Mending Broken Bonds

Change in Mindset?

"Mere Bhanje. [My Nephew.]" Yellow teeth were revealed as thin lips curled upwards in a sneer, sinister aura surrounding the man who had uttered the words in a soft tone. "It has been a long time since you paid me a visit."

"Forgive me for that, Mamashree [Uncle]." The man lounging on the couch apologized sincerely. "I was engaged."

"Your reason for engagement was tending to Panchalraj." Gandhar Naresh's tone was almost mocking and it made Duryodhan frown.

"Ashwatthama is my friend, Mamashree." He replied, his voice dripping with dislike. "And he was hurt. I had to make sure he was alright."

"Pandavas say the same thing about him." The ageing man limped to the chair next to the centre table, where a chausar board was set, calculating the number he needed for the next win, twirling his dice between his skinny fingers. "Tell me, who do you think he will side with?"

"Of course, me." Duryodhan grumbled, surprised at the notion of Ashwatthama leaning towards the Pandavas. "Why would you even doubt that?"

"Duryodhan, I have never seen a bigger fool than you." Shakuni casted his eyes on his nephew, disapproval swimming in them. "Why are you so sure of that?"

"Because he is my friend!" Duryodhan almost yelled, desperation coursing through him.

"Oh really?" The King leaned towards his ear, words coming out were barely above a whisper but it rang in Duryodhan's mind. "Why would someone want to be friends with a dirt born child?"

Why indeed. He was merely a Prince considered a bad omen, while the Pandavas were a part of cherished Gods. It seemed natural who any sane person would favor.

Shakuni smiled, knowing that his words were having the desired effect on the eldest Gandhari Nandan. His eyes were hazed, brows furrowed in deep thought.

"Be cautious of whom you trust, My Son." Shakuni rolled the dice for one final time before letting them fall on the board. "Six!"

The dice fell elegantly with a soft sound, bearing the desired score on the top of them and the Son of Subal watched the brainwashed man walk out of the tent, a wicked gleam in the former's eyes.

_

"What did he say his name was, Kumar?" Supriya asked curiously, her gaze soft as she kept looking at the boy who was in the Second Pandava's gigantic arms, sleeping soundly, tired by the day's events.

"Darsh, Devi." Bheem replied happily, a big smile painting his soft features. "Isn't he like an angel, hmm?"

"He is." Supriya smiled. Indeed. The way his upper body was wrapped in Bheem's angavastram as he drooled on his was adorable. "Don't you agree, Angaraj?"

"What?" Karn's head snapped up at the mention of his title, looking as if he was pulled from another world. "Yes, yes, he is!"

They were returning from the temple of Avanti, not with the prasad, no, but something more precious. A child! He was to be punished because of all the false rules of society even before Karn and Supriya had reached the place, but thanks to the Mace fighter, no such thing had happened.

From the onlookers of the scene, they had known that Bheem was against any cruelty taking place against that innocent boy, who had been clinging to Bheem's legs as the man stood like a shield in front of him. The soldiers looked plainly terrified of him as he hissed at them to back off. They did so and Bheem had made a royal departure from the spot, taking the little child in his arms.

It surprised Karn. He had always held the notion Vrikodar was a simple man who always stood with the white among the black, for he held no concept of grey. But he was proven wrong. Seemed like he had more layers than the ones he put on show.