Arjuna: Each Scar Narrates A Tale...

Episode 5

Spring, it was. As soon as I got up from my sleep, a heavy blow greeted me from the behind, with the voice of my fellow brothers wishing me. I realised, it was my birthday.

This was one of those days when Yudhishthira would hold up his scoldings for all the fun and pranks we did. One of the days, Bheema would let me eat all his delicacies. The day when Nakula would allow himself to get teased by me and the very day, Sahadeva wouldn't bother lending me his dearest of books.

Father, along with my mothers, would do all in their power to make these small moments, memorable — from having things for today prepared beforehand to letting me ask them the answers to as many questions as my curiousity could lift.

However, the breeze today, had a different scent. No matter what we did, something always seemed amiss...

Our cottage was filled with ascetics. All of whom were the residents of Shatasringa itself. Our identity seemed auspicious to them — though I didn't knew why — but they all took us in great respect as if the demigods themselves.

Mother made the best out of resources to feed these ascetics of high devotion.
So was it this afternoon. Us, brothers served them the food while mother sat beside the stove.

As we were about to call father and mother Madri — who had went for a stroll in the forest — to celebrate, we heard a loud wail.

The voice, recognisably of mother Madri. She was yelling in a gibberish language, or probably the distance made it seem so.

Terrified, we ran towards the forest however, at a distance, Step-mother asked mom to leave us at there and come all by herself.

As a matter of reassurance, mother Pritha asked us to go back to the cottage, till she is back with others. On the way back, I decided to just take a breathe of relief...

Don't know, if I should consider myself childish to think that father was actually planning a surprise gift for my birthday. Or to consider myself as just trying to bind my thoughts.

I ran to the back of our cottage, to get my bow. I wished to surprise father instead, before he could take me by shock.

The bark of an old dry tree, was my target. No matter how many arrows I shot, the haunting feeling just wouldn't leave.
Mastering the new skill of archery that I wished to display father, but how come I felt reluctant even to shoot. I had the desire to show father that I have grown up...

Some bustling noises arose from the front of cottage. The ascetics who were having meals earlier, had gathered around, and nothing was clearly visible.
I guess father was back, and excitement had me pace up towards him, pushing the crowd sidewards.

Father was lying on the ground, mothers crying... For one instance, I felt if I lost my conscience. I yelled at him for not pranking on me like this. It was not a good idea...

It was supposed to be just a prank, however he didn't arose even after minutes have passed by. I thought I was dreaming but everything seemed too realistic. The bow slid off my hand, so did the golden memories.

I never realised when I had fallen on my knees, not able to intake the reality. Maybe...maybe father's just asleep?

Crawling over to father's leg, I massaged them gently, tears also scanned through my cheeks.

"Mother, he's just asleep, right? Let me massage his feet, he might have been tired that he fell asleep outside the cottage," I chuckled, followed by a sigh. I was laughing on my own fate.

Soon enough, Nakula also crawled over, massaging his knees, accompanied by Sahadeva.

It was raining, lightly. How I loved the rain. It is also confused with it's feelings. Bringing joy to some, while witnessing someone cry. What a irony.

I was small, merely a kid, but I was not foolish to not understand what was going on, I just wished that I could refuse to believe it.

Wouldn't it be good if we can be like before? I wanted to see him everyday, to that day when I have truly grown up, I could atleast show him that it was his shed that protected me aganist thunderstorms. It was too late to do that, now...

Today, here he lay, lifeless.
"Will you not protect me from thunder, now? I promise, I would be a good boy, just wake up, please! It's enough of the prank."

No reply...

The ascetics had to take his body for cremation, I didn't let him go. How I imagined that he would wake up anytime and hug me, saying between his giggles, "I was just teasing you, my Krishna!"

Eldest and Bheema had to drag us away from him. It wasn't that they weren't sad, but probably they had too many responsibilities on their shoulder that some tears couldn't be displayed.

All I heard was wails, whispering of some mantras, and a funeral pyre, ignited by Yudhisthira.

Mother Madri, slowly ascended into it. Father have company now, but what about the broken shed over us? I know it was never his intentions, but he used to say that the best test is always in the worst condition.

Mother Madri, might be known for her devotion to father, but for us, she was that mother who would use her own saree's end to wipe our sweat. Mother Kunti was left alone. She had her own challenges too.

Is it always like this? Some sacrifice, for the better while the other lives their life as a sacrifice. Who have left, don't know the pain of the living. It's better, atleast they could enjoy their afterlife without having the same pain even after sacrificing themselves.

This was the first time I realised that I had always been a child. And so was the very time when I realised that being mature doesn't necessarily means being happy.

Father left us, so did mother. Shoulders held high responsibilities. They won't be there to witness us, work out on the path of Dharma, just like they did.

My physical self was still intact, however my heart had a scar. And this scar was as a alarm that my journey have just begun...

~~~~~~~~x~~~~~~~~
🥺I can't—

~Parthvi❤️