The SPEAR of DHARMA : an OS Collection on Yudhishthir

1❄️An Adobe of Solitude❄️

The thrumming motion of Pandu stops by coming at the edge of Nandankanan. His eyes too rests by glancing the frontal view of himself.

Thousands over thousands years has passed, still, Pandu feels like nothing has changed, his eldest child seem always that much little to him only. His eyes still feel those tiny-tiny fists, holding his finger walking on the slopy vallies or twitching the fair nose and broad eyes vaguely gazing and listening at him or the ever cheerful giggle is echoing in his ear-drum.

"What are you thinking Maharaj?" A heavy hold of hand felt by Pandu on his right shoulder.

Pandu smiles. "All your serene reflection, Dharma, which not only the world, but also the whole creation never be able to forget."

Dharma smiles, "Dharma never able to, but Adharma!," he sighs a little.

"Our Yudhishthir is unaware about that, so why we would think about that!" Pandu smiles on whose response Dharma/Yama too smiles.

The golden luster of light penetrating through the tender leaves and pink blossoms has been plundering on the soft green grass bed, on which a serene handsome fair figure is sitting. The cyan blue cloak hanging from his broad shoulder ruffling by the wind, and that gentle breeze swinging its low brownie hair locks aroubd his sharp-pointed nose and with his hazel eyes, he is looking down at some small fallen flowers.

"Still my Yudhishthir gives me same vibes." Pandu's voice becomes heavy and his footsteps slowly proceeds more into the garden.

"When I first viewed him, it feels like the whole heaven has appeared in front of me." Pandu continues. "Kunti gives me my tiny handful Yudhishthir on my hands. Though, everyone says that first-born in very special, as it gives the couple the feel of parenthood, but, honestly, my Yudhishthir has some special, which I felt but my words can't able to express that."
Pandu's eyes becomes moist and vaguely looks at his eldest child.

Yudhishthir is still playing with those fallen flowers, just like any little child as his father is describing.

"Maharaj, isn't it your nurturing which makes Yudhishthir as 'The Yudhishthir'?" Dharma asks Pandu, fixing his red eyes on his pale-golden face.

Squeezing his coppery eyes, Pandu smiles. "Yudhishthir has everything in himself. He grows everything in his own. His everything used to capticates me, amazed me, pleased me."

"Mine too." Dharma utters. "Whenever I have visited him, watched him, judge him, questioned him, in his happiness, lonliness, pain, sorrow, grief, anger or war, I always used to find him same- the same, exactly the same. Even in his last journey" Dharma takes a long breath and pauses.
Maybe, the red terrible eyes has now fill with little-little drops of tears. Converting his banging footsteps into timid one, he disappears from the scene.

❄️❄️

Yudhishthir picks a tiny pink flower with his big fingers, gently. The breeze is shivering the tender petals of the flower and its sweet fragrance is hitting his nostrils and closing his huge golden-hue eyes, he is intaking it wholeheartedly.

All silence around him. Some leaves has been falling around with a slight crumbs on the grass enhancing the serenity of the surroundings.
A long-long years ago, a long-long distance beyond, at the lap of Shatasringa, a couple felt this serenity ever.

Suddenly, Yudhishthir opens his eyes, like he has woken up from the dream. A faint tingling has been coming and constantly it's becoming more and more prominent. A mesmerizing aura is also coming, and he is sure that's it's not coming from the flower holding in his hand.