Chapter 1:
(Three Years Later)
"It is Diwali. Yet so much darkness?" Queen Veena's voice rang with confusion, walking around the palace of Hastinapur, seemed all too bizarre.
It felt like she had entered some other world, one that spoke of sadness and grief.
As though every stone in the palace of Hastinapur, mourned. But what? Or whom?
Dhara turned towards her guest, her fake smiling slipping away from her lips, the all too familiar burn sizzled in her chest, her breathing hitched.
Sadness painting her expression.
"If lighting up lamps could light up the palace the way it was three years back, I would sell my soul to do so. . ."
The slight waver in her voice didn't go unnoticed, the blaze of ache thrummed.
An image of her friend flashing in her mind.
Drau.
Three years since the unfortunate night. Three years since nothing had been same. . .
"What do you mean Princess?" The title felt still all too peculiar to Dhara.
Marrying Duryodhan didn't still feel the same, nothing did. All the happiness seemed to have just forsaken Hastinapur.
"The flame of Hastinapur's happiness was lost years ago, your highness." Mahamahim's voice broke through the heavy silence, that had been stiffling, almost making it impossible for one to breathe.
"Pranipat Mahamahim."
Bhism nodded his acknowledgement. A forlorn expression reflecting on his face.
Gazing around at Hastinapur today, crushed his heart. The place that once seemed home, now was all too foreign.
Like a bizarre nightmare, that just won't get over. Not matter how much he wanted to.
Helplessness shackled deep in his bones, and that was not something, he struggled with everything.
The queen stared at the Kuruvanshi's.
She still couldn't pin point what had changed in past three years since her last visit? What had made Hastinapur sink in such darkness?
"Mahamahim, I do not understand."
A sad movement of Bhism's lips, in an upward curve was all the answer she received.
"Three years back we lost our daughter in law."
"Pandavas' Panchaali?" Asked the queen, she had heard all about the unfortunate event.
It was tragic.
She couldn't recall, exactly all the details, it was too far in her memory.
But it had been three years, man didn't take that long to remarry, a year the most.
"Surely the pandavas' are married by now."
"Marriage, is not a word. They would like to hear again." Bhism began.
"But Mahamahim it has been three years-"
"Draupadi is not replaceable."
Dhara snapped, her hands weaving with one and other, tears stinging in her gaze.
Fury tangled with the constant ache in her chest, arising from the depths of agony.
Her breathing came in shot pants, the burning sensation intensifying in her chest.
Memories after memories of Draupadi filtered in her mind, her giggles and that reassuring smile, twisting deep in her gut.
"Of course she is not. But the pandavas can't be alone forever now. Samrat Yudhisthir needs an heir-"
"Where your concern is much appreciated, it is completely unrequired."
Cold, icy words cut off Queen Veena's words.
The temperature in the room seemed to have dropped sharply, a silence falling over the place.
Heavy footfalls rang throughout the room, a murderous aura feeling the room.
Harsh commanding energy flowed through the room, making it difficult for others to breath.
His presence seemed to fill the room, a magnanimous persona, that filled the room, nearly making it chock.
The commanding aura of the eldest born of Kuruvansh, had magnified in past three years.
Bhism's gaze traced the features of his eldest grandson. The satin grey angvastr along with a dark heavy border sat on his shoulders.
Heavy dark neck piece of pearls sat proudly on his chest.
His wedding ring still sat proudly on his finger, a stormy grey precious stone jeweled in a wash silver ring sat proudly on his right hands middle finger, and thumb rings on either hands.
The darkness of his silk dhoti, matched with his silver crowns dark jewels.
Yudhisthir, like everything else in the palace of Hastinapur, had too changed.
And this change, was not something that Bhism appreciated.
All the colours seemed to have evaporated out of his life, just like all his happiness.
A grim expression marred his features, instead of the usual calm. Where once, there was serenity and calmness, on his eldest grandson's face. Now, was a seriousness, devoid of every emotion.
"Samrat-"
Yudhisthir raised his hand up, in a motion demanding silence.
He walked ahead.
His viscious presence, had the queen stepping back instinctively.
Fear sparkled in her heart, the man commanded respect, with just his mere presence.
Bhism noted the predatory march of a warrior, that his eldest grandson, seemed to have, now ingrained, almost like a muscle memory, that screamed others to stay back.
A warning.
A death sentence.
His muscles had bluffed up, his body now corded heavily with definition.
A result of his constant insistence of improving himself. One that Bhism knew, stemmed from Yudhisthir's guilt.
He blamed himself for not being able to save his wife that day. Everyday after that cursed night, Yudhisthir had spent more time on field, just like his brothers.
"I do not appreciate, people interfering in my personal matters." The words though simple, had an edge of warning.
A deadly one, if the queen was wise enough to interpret.
Sharper than a whip, his words cackled through the room. Cutting off every figment of doubt, and emotion.
Leaving behind just the throbbing stink of fear. That now seemed, a common response to his behavior.
Yudhisthir's hand traveled to his wedding ring. The all too familiar agony, that had now become more of an old friend, flared in his chest.
And he relved in that pain. It reminded him of his wife. His love.
One that he had lost, and his reason for existing too.
His hands itched, to grip the handle of his heavily darl jeweled, grey sword, that sat on his waist, proudly.
The long ago dead heart, pulsed with a fury, like it did everytime when he recalled how unjust world is.
How cruelly it snatched away his love. Her innocent eyes flickered in his mind, soul crushing ache had him breathing deeply.
Trying to reign in the instinct to destroy everything. When she didn't get a chance to live, why should others?
He knew his thoughts were lethal, that he was bitter, but he couldn't help it.
Hadn't he lost enough? His childhood. His two parents, and sacrificed everything.
What had he asked?
Just to stay with Drau, was it too much? Too hard for fate to follow?
"Sam-"
"Out."
Yudhisthir snapped, his voice sharp as a whip. Patience running low. Ironic, how once he was a master of it.
But once he was a husband too. . .
His throat tightened, images of his wife filling his mind. Her shy smile, the lowering of her lashes, and those innocent orbs.
His Drau.
"Pardon?" The queen asked shocked at the Yudhisthir's behavior. What had happened to him?
Where had the painfully polite and calm man vanished too?
Instead right infront of her stood a man, who looked like he was reigning in a storm, one that spelled destruction.
His icy cold exterior, and emotionless voice, was like a double edged blade, that threatened to slither, no matter which end one choose to touch.
The queen hurried out, after all he was the king of kings, who had the guts to go against him?
Yudhisthir turned on his feet, marching out of the room.
Not acknowledging anyone.
His heavy footsteps were all he could hear, as he walked to his and his brothers' area of the palace.
Taking turns after turns, the path to one place, that provided him, some amount of solace.
Where everyone except the pandavas were forbidden to enter. Where she once lived.
His heart twisted sharply, making his eyes sting.
Arya.
Her phantom call, nearly stubbed his life. He so desperately wanted to hear her say that word.
To call him. To shout. To scream.
Darkness was thickest here, not a single flame lit the area.
He hated light. What was the point of illuminating anything? When his life lacked his wife.
When there was nothing but darkness for him.
"Arya." Her all too familiar voice reached his ears, halting him mid step, his heart shuttered a halt, nearly toppling over itself.
His head turned sideways, desperately wishing his imagination to play it's trick.
To hallucinate him. He didn't care, as long as he could see her, he didn't give a damn.
He knew it wouldn't be real, but reality had no meaning to him now.
Nothing.
Holding his breath, he awaited.
The soothing sound of her anklets reached his ears, his eyes shut on their own accord.
Winters cool wind caressed him, bringing with it, her blue loutused fragrance.
He breathed in deeply, letting it flow through his system. Sooth the jagged edges, that cut him from within.
It didn't matter, even if the relief was momentarily. Even if this wasn't real.
He could see her, he would be with her. If it was in his imagination, than so be it.
He didn't mind going crazy, if insanity numbed his pain, and returned him his love, he didn't mind at all.
Through the second corridor walked his Drau.
He knew it was his figment of imagination, yet this were the moments of his life, that he really cherished.
Pathetic right?
But he didn't care.
"Drau." His features softened, the constant agony that thrummed in his chest dulled.
And for that one moment, his lungs opened up, allowing him to breathe a little easily, a little lighter.
Where the guilt and loss, didn't crush him every waking moment of his life.
Today she had worn a frilly long grey lehnga, a white odhni with a different little squeins, that looked like stars, scattered over her odhni.
Amplifying her natural radiance.
Her rosebud lips were curved up in a smile. Thick, dark lashes framing her doe shaped eyes, innocence peaking through them.
Three years, yet she was still the same.
His heart beated with anticipation, and excitement, awaiting her.
Not daring to move, though he wanted nothing more than to run and crush her to his chest.
But the terror of her disappearance, anchored him where he was. He awaited, unblinking.
Gazing at her.
Her dark orbs had the golden flames that sparked with familiar innocence.
Her thick hair flowed freely like a wild dark waterfall. Weaving around his heart.
She walked up to him, a little frown marring on her beautiful face, almost making him smile.
A little flutter of happiness, flickering in his chest.
"Arya, you scared the queen. " she chastised, her voice soft and melodic to his ears.
Yudhisthir just traced her features, memorizing every last of it to his mind.
Fisting his hands on his side, to stop himself from reaching out.
"I am so angry with you." Her rosy cheeks flared a darker shade of scarlet, making his heart skip another beat.
Warmth pulsing through him. Walking up to him, she straightened his angvastr.
Her soft fingers lingering on his chest, a sigh passed through his lips, as the constant chaos that ensued in his mind, calmed.
His natural calmness returning. Anchoring him to reality.
"Are you alright?" Concern filled her words.
"Without you? How can I ever be."
A soft sad smile curved up her lips, "I am always here with you. And it hurts me, seeing you so upset. I want you to smile, the way you once did."
"Than come back to me."
Brokeness rang through Yudhisthir's words, tears flooding his eyes, his voice thickened, emotions that he suppressed years ago, came pouring out.
His mouth dried up, making it impossible for him to swallow. Agony set ablaze in his heart, setting his very blood on fire.
"Oh Arya."
"Please return to me Drau. I love you too much. I can't go on like this." He pleaded, his voice wavering.
Desperation clawed in his chest, a lone tear trekked down his cheeks.
"Arya. . ." And just like that she faded, and with her, faded his life. . .
The mind shattering agony blazed through him, making his heart pulse with a vengeance of hatred.
The calmness shattered like an illusion, and with it, returned his agony, the chaos, all with a vengeance.
The once colorful world was once again dull, lifeless.
Why was he alive?!
He wanted to die.
He wanted to end everything, Yudhisthir walked on the sharp edge of death and life, on a daily basis now.
He was tempted to walk in the darkness, and melt in it for the rest of the eternity, but his brothers anchored him.
Their responsibilities and love rooted him. He couldn't be so selfish. Their needs always triumphed his.
"Drau." He whispered, he feet giving out.
The emperor of the entire Aryavart, the most powerful man to ever exist. One who had all the riches.
Yet he felt the poorest. His mask came crumbling down, memories of his wife hit him hard.
Sitting in the middle of the hallway, the emperor let his tears flow. Mourning his loss, mourning his wife, shattering into a zillion pieces.
Memories after memories rushed through his mind, his heart ached, he wanted to tug it out of his chest, and crush it on the floor.
"DRAU!!!!" He roared his pain out, shouting on top of his throat, tears tracing down her cheeks.
Without her life was torture. Where ever he walked, her memories followed him, reminding him of the life he had lost.
Of his wife.
She walked with him every moment of his life. She lived in him. And he died everyday.
He wanted her, as desperate as his next breath. For his existence, she was a must, the question remained, just how many days he would go on, before he could return to his Drau.
Before he could end his life, and be with her forever. . .
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Nakul stepped back, gazing at his wife's newly finished portrayed. Drau smiled back at him, looking at him through her lashes.
"You look beautiful." He whispered, scratching his thick beard. How many days had it been the last time he saw mirror?
Months probably.
She gazes looked around his room, hundreds of portrait, he had nearly painted every moment that he lived with her.
Yet they weren't enough. Nothing was.
Nakul stretched his gaze falling over his wife's mangalsutr, that now was his bracelet.
He could forget to breath, but that was always around his wrist. Just like her presence in his soul.
Deep, intricate and woven somewhere hard. Beating within him, like a second heart, reminding him of the bond, he once had forged with another soul.
A bond that had descended in his heart, and resided in his soul. One whose absence left him colder than snow.
Icy and frigid.
Unfeeling.
Everything except the constant thrum of agony that reminded him of his wife's absence.
Three years, two months, three weeks, two days, four hours and twenty six seconds.
Too long of a time Drau to stay away, please come home darling.
A soul deep agony thrummed through him, pulsing hard.
Wiping his hand off the colours, he moved towards his dressing table, sitting down on the chair heavily.
His shoulders sagging, like the weight of world settled over them.
His gaze settled on the man, that looked back at him through the mirror. Dark circles sat heavily under his eyes, beared had grown thick.
His face was a shade paler than healthy, muscles bulging with all the hours he spent practicing, fueling his frustration and pummeling his agony out.
The complete lack on accessories on him, along with bed ridden hair, would have given the three years back Nakul a heart attack.
But now, he just stared at the comb.
Maybe he should brush his hair. But what was the point? What was the point of anything anymore?
He no longer understood. Why was he going through this life? He didn't understand.
But he just moved through the motions, passing through his life. Where days were just blurs, that he spent painting his wife.
His Drau.
The constant beating pain, sparkled brighter remembering her name.
He could almost smell her blue loutuses fragrance. It was ingrained in his memory, and her melodic laugh.
The way she whispered 'arya'. The way those dark orbs sparkled with warmth whenever he was close, or the way her cheeks turned a deeper shade of scarlet.
"You know, nothing without you is same." He whispered, turning his head, eyes settling over his freshly finished portrait.
Draped in her heavy wedding lehnga, she sat there staring back at him.
Observing as always, unmoving.
His heart cracked, a sad smile blanketing his features.
"I miss you, Drau."
Brokeness reverberated through his words, his fingers ran through his hair, tugging at them, making them look all the further disarray mess.
"Nothing without you is same. Dev hasn't spoken a word in past three years. Not a single sound, you know. "
He swallowed down the knot, standing up, moving to the pallet of colours, picking it up and all the brushes.
"Bhraata Bheem, no longer enjoys food. Can you believe he hardly eats one time a day. And is angry all the time."
Walking up to the nearest basin, he began washing the brushes. The deafening silence of the room, was all the answer he received.
"Bhraata Arjun hasn't returned from the war. I think he is the worse. From white, his clothes too have turned dark as night. Not a single speck of colour."
The rough texture of the brushes scrubbed on his hand, as he washed it. Colours swirling down with the water, and down the drain.
The way all their happiness had drained along with Drau. His throat tightened painfully, tears stung.
Clearing his throat, he stomped down on the roaring agony. Trying to focus on work at hand.
"He is on war all the time. I have never seen him home. Three years completely on battle field, and the amount of blood that he has been spilling, is worrisome."
He bit his bottom lip.
Please answer.
He knew the hope was futile, but he held on, it was stupid. It was ridiculous. He knew but he still hoped.
His fingers went lax, the loud clatter of the brushes dropping in the basin, was the only thing she heard.
His hands clutched on the marble basin, gripping it hard. The roaring ache in his chest, had his breath hitching.
His scarlet eyes met her portrait through the mirror.
"And I? I feel like I am stuck in a limbo. On a full stop. Three years has passed, but my life, my time just seemed to have stopped at the one night, when you were with me."
He breathed heavily, trying to suppress the pain. His bottom lip quivered, a tear followed by another.
"Drau, please just please return home." He begged, his voice wavering. "It has been three years. Three years of complete hell. . ."
Words faded in his throat, a sharp bolt of agony ran through him.
He looked at himself in the mirror, a former shell of a man, that he once was.
When did she become so important? He had no idea. When he fell in love? He never realised.
But her absence crushed him everyday. Nearly killed him everyday, the complete numbness and nothingness of death was all too tempting.
Way better than the chaos, that his mind had become. Darkness pulsed through his veins, enticing him in it's embrace.
And if it wasn't for his brothers, he would have given years ago.
His watery gaze looked around now his room, previously Drau's. Things were still, the way they were.
The room looked lived in. If a stranger walked in, than they would assume, that a woman still stayed in.
Her jewelleries still lay harparzadically over the dressing table, sindur box still open.
Her odhni lay on a nearby chair, her natural fragrance still in air. Her wardrobe was still filled with her clothes, her slippers still sat in the corner.
The heena cone that she had laid on her bedside drawer, was still there. Everything was clean and pristine.
A little chaotic, just the way she had left it. Time for Nakul had literally stopped.
He had assured, that in this room it did. He painted his day away, talking to her, pretending she is out working in the kitchen, cooking something.
Or probably taking a walk. But she was near. That everything was fine. That it was completely normal, that he hadn't communicated to anyone except his brothers for past a year.
That past three weeks he hadn't let this room, and it was normal.
That everything was fine. That she was still around, that was what his life had been, a complete circus of pretense.
And he hated himself for it. He hated the way life had turned out, he hated everything.
He hated himself for breathing, when she couldn't. He hated himself the most. And the most ironic part? He had to live with himself everyday.
He had to wake up only to realise, that she wasn't there sleeping beside him. That he couldn't protect, the one woman he loved.
His knees buckled, Nakul slipped down on the floor, pulling his feet to his chest. Hiding his face in between them.
Drau.
Her name circled in his mind, in a constant motion.
Please come back. . .
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Hiya everyone!
I hope you liked the first chapter of book 2! That I have added as a sneak-a-peak.
So is Drau going to be reborn?
No!
-Why?
Because She never really died.
Then where is she? Why hasn't she contacted the pandavas?
And how does the pandavas not know Drau is alive?
And who is the attacker?
Any guesses?
Will return with all the answers to this questions soon, in book 2.
Bridal Crises
Do let me know your thoughts?
And did you like the cover. Lol, it's similar to book 1, but hey! I loved the girl. 😂😂😂
Will see you guys soon!
Do vote and comment!
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