DaanveerPutri

Anagha's Rumination

"Straighten the curl of your arm here," came the soft yet deep voice of the Kuru army's commander in chief. He who was currently present as the trainer, amidst the vast troops located upon the sandy training grounds of the palace courtyard. "The correct posture makes all the difference."

Despite the beads of perspiration rolling mercilessly down their temples, and grazing the curves of their deeply tanned necks, the heads of the warriors nodded obediently in command to their revered Madhya Pandava, as he issued orders of appropriate instructions upon the ranks. A day's worth of strenuous training and unflinching attention, resulted in the drooping of quivering limbs, and flickering eyelids - the darkened patch of skin beneath dotted by beads of perspiration. Training long hours was never unusual under the guidance of their Athi Maharathi, known better as the Mahanayak of Mahabharata. The Gudakesha who had conquered sleep, and could be sighted upon the grounds, be it training or warzone, during both the scorching heat of the days and nights; with Chandra dev and his reflecting rays of the day's reminder as the sole companion.

Yet the past few days, had in fact been unusual.

Vijaya held the bow of one of the new recruits, positioning it expertly for the learning purpose of his audience. The charcoal-hued coat of the slim bamboo-made instrument appeared toy-like between the large, calloused hands of the Pandava Prince. He who hoisted unending fame upon his broad shoulders for his showering of magnificent arrows upon the battlefield. Their iron heads shimmering in the bright light of the Sun God, as their reed and bamboo-made shafts quivered beneath the jolts of triumph pulsating beneath the veins of the ever-victorious Vijaya.

The droplets littering the perspired skin of his upper body, unsheathed by the usual dove-white garments, sparkled as diamonds beneath the evening rays of Surya, who cast down a golden glow upon the Princely son of Indra. His illuminating rays of splendour further defining the curves of the warrior's taut shoulder muscles, as they rippled beneath the voluntary flexing of Mahabahu's mighty arms. With his lengthy fingers expertly wrapping themselves around the sinew thread of the bowstring, pulling it back towards his strong jawline, and allowing the rears of his scratched knuckles a caress against the layer of unkept stubble his taut skin now sported. The starstruck gazes of his trainees, unwaveringly following each move. Their worshipping eyes refusing to part with the narrowing of his sharp ones, as the latter zeroed in on the imaginary target beyond his immediate sight.

And there she appeared anew in all her glory. Uncontainable within either his far or near sight, as she flitted by all sides. Dancing with blithe in her steps, even behind the closed lids of Partha. Dainty fingers gripping the mid-lengths of her ivory white lehenga, as she pirouetted in uniform circles, laughing gleefully as she observed her father's affectionate gaze, unwaveringly upon her visage. The linear pattern of rubies, belonging to the 'corundum' family of stones; revered for their loyal position as the 'King of all Gemstones,' dazzled magnificently. While offsetting glares of luminosity, as they warmed against the rays of light showered down by the hot ball of glowing gases they were astrologically related to.

Loosening his grip on the string, Arjuna straightened once more as he turned towards his troops. Internally condemning himself for having lost his focus upon the mirage of his dear daughter once more, who was currently situated miles away from the shadowing marbled corridors of Hastinapura.

"Now that you've observed my demonstration, I want you all to take up this position."

Walking up and down the lined ranks of the new recruits, some more skilled than others, Dhananjaya's mind wandered off to the moments before their departure, where he had held the two princesses who possessed his heart, within the confines of his arms. The slender arms of his Vijaya Nandhini wrapped around his strong torso, while the alta-dyed palm of his Yadava sweetheart; the princess of Dwaraka, rested atop the skin sheathing his beating heart, wherein she resided a Queen. A few days visit it would be, they'd promised. Yet, the longing heart of Vijaya, who'd immersed himself unendingly in state affairs and training of soldiers to harness the horses of his wandering mind, knew alone the extent of the wait. An eon itself had passed within a heartbeat.