KRISHAVYAYAM

62. Restlessness

The flamboyant castle of Dvaravati housed gazillions of enigmas fluttering like bats in murky corners just as Shri, Hari, Shesha and Ksheera's resplendence painted it, for when diversity of separate clans muster at a place, so do disagreements and suffocation among the societal members, such is the human tendency.

But for the present day, let's just say the impending hailstorm was a little far and Kamalnayani had resolved to nullify her ability of clairvoyance, now posing as a haughty queen for mere amusement. "I am not as good as my beloved in maneuvering my way out of mind wars and tensions, you see," she had said to her husband, who snorted, entertained with her dramatic and coquettish feats but still heeding the motive with which she confessed, respecting them. "I shall not foresee the written destiny of AdiPrajapati and fall in the pit of agitation. Let's face the conundrum whenever it's at our doorstep, alright?"

"As my queen pleases."

"As my queen pleases," rumbled Bhimasena, moonstruck, his bashful wife linking an arm of hers to his, burying her face in his forearm as her cheeks heated up.

When she gained control over her blush, his fingers worked to weave a wreath with the daisies that lay beneath. The rivulets danced in the air above them, as garlands and bracelets and lariats and rings of fresh blooms were slipped on her arms which later tapered down in slender fingers; with just the right patience, so as to not overwhelm her. He gently set her tresses free, like dark serpents which ended at her hips, and was driven inebriated by the lotus whiff they were coiled in.

The private gardens gleamed when the lunar lord stood in the zenith in the abode of Deva Dyaus, with Daksha's daughters dancing around him. Such was the tenderness of the Dvitiya Pandava, that Draupadi found herself embracing him, hearing to the tunes of his heart that roared away the mettle of the enemy and thumped for his loved ones.

When Tejas halted in front of the white oak tree shedding its leaves morphing hazel, Kamalnayani throatily laughed at her compeers who groaned and whined for the nth time, struggling to catch breaths. Taming her curls that had absconded the tie she had pulled them into and were now freely mirroring paws of death on the gales' decree, the queen of Saurashtra tottered on her stallion until he nickered and continued with his little shuffling as her fellow horse-riders reached her.

"Krishu, have you seen a bear princess and her cub?" Nakula asked, too enthusiastic to sound genuine while pointing to Bhima (who was, doing nothing but slumbering soundly post a tiring day of work with Sahadeva sharing his bed, curled into a fetus at the other corner) as Kamalnayani slowly nodded, biting back a cheeky smile as Samba climbed to her lap, giggling when her fingers fluttered across his tiny ribs.

"No, thanks Bhrata. I live with them so their bear business is quite mundane to me."

Jambavati snorted her lemongrass and honey tea out of her nostrils, pixyishly disgruntled, "Dhruvi how dare you-"

"Very very daring, Jiji."

Eventides of horse-riding with the MadriNandanas and SatrajitaKumari were blithe. Sometimes she and Nakula would spend time pampering their mares and other pets, and other times Sahadeva and his beloved constellations quenched her thirst for productivity. He possessed a separate set of books for everything of his interest which swamped his chests and caskets, and as per his suggestion she'd taken a few books dealing with diplomacy, tagging along with Yudhishthira in his routine self studies.

The sister of Draupadi would often find herself with the Dharma-roopa, who carried himself regally with an aura of authority. In him, she saw the Samrat the kingmaker of Dvaravati too did, certainly in awe of his persona.