A Different Path

Questions

His father finally noticed him standing there, staring at him like an idiot. For a moment, they just stood there observing each other. Minutes passed before Ashwathama jerked out of his reverie and kneeled in front of his father, seeking his blessings. Lightly, Drona grazed his hair mumbling words that he assumed were good wishes because Ashwathama wasn't really listening. He was far too busy trying to compose himself and not give in to the agonizing emotions that just wouldn't let him be.

And on his lips was the same question that Lakshman Kumar had asked him an hour ago.

Do you even care?

His mother came out of the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner and hugged him hard, tears forming in her eyes. He smiled at her, as he wiped them off her face and whispered "How are you, mother?"

Her mother didn't respond; instead, she burst out crying and buried her face in his chest. It surprised him because his mother Kripi, though never on the same level as Drona, had always been reserved and unsentimental no matter what adversity came her way. He wasn't sure how to respond because for the longest time he was certain that both his parents were made of iron and as such would never yield to something as fragile and feeble as emotions.

"Why didn't you come home early? Why did you stay with my brother?"

"I.....I was going to come but....uh, I was tired from the journey and Uncle Kripa...well-"

"A son's paramount concern should be his mother and father." Drona declared.

"Yes...I know..."

"I missed you so much." Kripi returned to her characteristic solemness for which Ashwathamma was glad and he gave her a wide, winsome smile. "I missed you more."

"Now that you are back, I am not letting you go anywhere. Not even to my brother."

Ashwathama chuckled heartily. This was one of the rare times when Kripi shed her customary aloofness to express her affection, her joy at having him back, and he was enjoying it very much. "There's nowhere else I want to be."

"Why have you not been responding to our letters?" Drona lowered the manuscript and arched his eyebrows at him. Kripi lay a soothing arm on Drona's arm, clearly not wanting things to go downhill. He wasn't sure if his mother was angry at him too, though if she was he wouldn't blame her.

"I ....was.....there were things I had to take care of in Uttar Panchala. It is my duty as a king."

"And what of your duty as a son?"

Ashwathamma frowned. This wasn't fair. He had been a good son in every way. "Forgive me father but I do not see where I have failed as a son. I know I should have replied, but things were not well in the kingdom" And he wasn't lying about that. The Great War had brought with it a tsunami of mayhem, destitution, and malversation, and he needed to act fast before his subjects were submerged under it. It was his dharma, as the ruler to act in the welfare of his kingdom.