10."A Homecoming of Heartfelt Embrace"
"Embrace the endless journey of learning, for within life's constant teachings lies the profound essence of growth, the stirring melodies of wisdom, and the poignant echoes of our own evolution. In the dance between the student and the world, let curiosity be our guide, resilience our compass, and passion our fuel, as we traverse the boundless landscapes of knowledge, forever entwined with the rhythm of existence."
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Avalok's POV
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds of Maharishi Bharadwaja's ashram, my father, King Bhismaka, and I stood at the chariot stand near the gate, readying ourselves for our journey to Hastinapur. My father turned to Vikram with a furrowed brow, his voice tinged with concern, "Vikram, are we truly prepared for our departure? Have we overlooked anything?" Vikram, ever dutiful, responded with a reassuring tone, "Fear not, Maharaja, all preparations have been made. We simply await the formal farewell with Maharishi Bharadwaja."
My father's gaze turned solemn as he broached the subject of Maharaja Pandu's passing, a weighty topic hanging in the air like a shroud. "Have we gathered all that is required for Maharaja Pandu's funeral rites?" he inquired, his voice heavy with sorrow. Vikram nodded somberly, "Yes, Maharaja, everything necessary for Maharaja Pandu's final rites has been arranged."
The news of Pandu's untimely demise had reached us with startling speed, leaving us all grappling with the swift hand of fate. My father, a man of wisdom and insight, puzzled over the actions of King Dhritarashtre, his brother's passing casting a shadow over the impending meeting. "Why would King Dhritarashtre proceed with the meeting amidst such tragedy?" he mused aloud, his voice heavy with contemplation. Vikram offered a tentative explanation, "Perhaps, Maharaja, they seek to address the succession before Pandu's heirs arrive in Hastinapur." My father nodded thoughtfully in agreement, a silent acknowledgment of the political machinations at play.
As we discussed our impending farewell to Maharishi Bharadwaja, our surroundings seemed to grow eerily quiet, save for the distant rustle of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze. In the fading light, we noticed a small group approaching us, their figures silhouetted against the dying embers of the day.
I turned my gaze towards the approaching group, recognizing them immediately as Maharishi Bharadwaja, Dronacharya, Ashwatthama, and Devi Kripi. With a sense of respect, we bowed to them, offering our greetings, "Pranam, Maharishi Bharadwaja, Dronacharya ji, and Devi Kripi." Their responses were warm, filled with blessings as they returned our salutations with a heartfelt "Kalyan ho."
As Ashwatthama stepped closer, his countenance reflecting a palpable sense of melancholy, he addressed me with a hint of sorrow in his tone, "Avalok, so the time has come for your departure. Will our paths intertwine once more? You once called us the best of friends, so I wonder when fate will reunite us again."
Upon hearing Ashwatthama's barrage of inquiries, I responded with a serious tone, "Ashwatthama, ask one question at a time. To address your concerns, yes, we are indeed best friends, and our paths may converge again in the future. However, it may not be in the immediate future. Remember the lessons I imparted to you; if you adhere to those teachings, you will always find yourself on the right path. But before you make any promises, consider them carefully. Reflect on whether what you are committing to is truly right or wrong. Understand?" My words carried the weight of experience and wisdom, urging him to tread thoughtfully along life's journey.
Hearing this, he replied, "Yes, Avalok, I understand what you're telling me. I'll try my best not to stray away from the right path." After that, I said, "Okay, now take this locket and wear it. It's my gift to you as we become friends." This locket, summoned using my ability in Ethereal Weaponry, is imbued with a hint of cosmic energy that I'm able to harness. When something bad happens, this locket can create a shield that normal weapons cannot break. I know that with my influence, Ashwatthama won't walk the same path he intended to. I'm giving him this for safety.
Seeing me giving him the locket, his eyes became teary, and he started to cry a little, saying, "Thank you, Avalok. I'm going to take good care of this locket." Seeing him like this, what am I going to do? He's just a little kid, not the immortal Ashwatthama he's destined to become.
After placing my hand on his shoulder, I comforted him, saying, "Alright, alright, don't cry." His tears subsided, and a moment of quiet settled between us. Just then, Maharishi Bharadwaja's voice echoed through the air, breaking the silence. "Hey, Avalokiteshvara, I wish you a safe journey. I eagerly await your return to my ashram." Chuckling, I responded, "Hahaha, Maharishi Bharadwaja, I too look forward to that day. It'll be a time when the greatest warriors of Aryavart gather to learn in your ashram. I'm curious to see what they have in store for me."
Hearing Maharishi's words, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. "Your divine play, you know, Prabhu," he said. "I am just waiting for that time." His sage-like demeanor added weight to his words.
Turning to Dronacharya, I asked, "So, what's your plan, Dronacharya ji?" His eyes held a mixture of determination and resolve.
"Hey Avalokiteshvara," he replied, using the title Maharishi had bestowed upon me earlier. "After this, I'm heading to Panchal to meet Drupada."
The mention of Panchal stirred a sense of foreboding within me. "Do you understand the consequences of going to Panchal?" I inquired cautiously.
Dronacharya's response was measured yet resolute. "Yes, I'm aware of what might unfold, Avalokiteshvara. But even if it's my destiny, I want to witness it firsthand."
Acknowledging his decision with a nod, I said, "As you wish, Dronacharya ji." With our farewells exchanged, we embarked on our journey towards Hastinapur, the weight of uncertainty lingering in the air. As we traveled, I couldn't help but wonder, 'How long will this journey truly be?'
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As the chariot rumbled to a halt just outside the imposing gates of Hastinapur, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation and apprehension. The Pandavas, Kunti, and Vidur disembarked, their faces etched with a myriad of emotions – grief, determination, and perhaps a hint of resignation. The dusty road behind them spoke of a long journey fraught with challenges and heartache, culminating in this pivotal moment. Pandu's recent passing weighed heavily on their minds, casting a shadow over their return to Hastinapur, the city that held both their heritage and their destiny.
Vidur, ever the wise counselor, surveyed the scene with a discerning gaze, his mind already calculating the intricate web of alliances and conflicts that awaited them within the palace walls. Kunti, the matriarch of the family, drew strength from within, her resolve unyielding in the face of adversity.
The children, too young to fully grasp the weight of their circumstances, looked to their elders for guidance, their innocent faces a stark contrast to the turmoil that surrounded them.
As the chariot came to a stop, Vidur's brow furrowed in confusion. He turned to Kunti, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Sister-in-law, why did you halt the chariot here? Before reaching royal palace"
Hearing the question, Kunti replied solemnly, "The first time I entered Hastinapur, it was on a chariot. But this time, I am the culprit of Hastinapur. I couldn't protect its king. I have no right to enter riding on this chariot."
Vidur, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Sister-in-law, even today you are the queen of Hastinapur and the future Rajmata."
Kunti's eyes held a flicker of doubt as she contemplated his words. "Who has ever known what the womb of the future gives birth to, Vidur?"
Undeterred, Vidur persisted, "Hence, I request you, sister-in-law, to enter the kingdom as the queen. Fifteen years earlier, when you had gone to the forest, those circumstances don't exist anymore. Today, against these five boys, a hundred boys are standing there. If you surrender your rights, sister-in-law, then the rights of your sons too will be lost."
Kunti's heart ached with the weight of responsibility and the burden of the past. She knew that every decision she made would shape the future of not only her sons but also the entire kingdom.
Hearing what Vidur was saying, Kunti replied, "That which is lost is ambition, not rights. My husband has taught my sons the right values."
With determination etched on her face, Kunti approached the Pandavas and said, "Sons, Hastinapur is your home. Henceforth, your father figure will be your grandfather Bhishma. Dhritarashtra will be your uncle, and Gandhari your aunt. Serving them will be your duty. Here, you have a hundred brothers; be loving towards them. Reciprocating their love will be your duty. Here, there will be no differentiation between Gandhari's hundred sons and Kunti's five sons. Here, there will be the hundred and five sons of the Kuru clan."
With her words hanging in the air, Kunti led the way towards the royal palace, her steps steady and purposeful. The Pandavas followed closely behind, their hearts heavy with the weight of their newfound responsibilities. As they entered the palace grounds, they knew that their journey was only just beginning, and the challenges that awaited them would test their resolve like never before.
As Kunti, the Pandavas, and Vidur approached the gate of the royal palace, it slowly opened, revealing Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, and Kripacharya, along with other family members, who came out to welcome them. As they drew nearer, Kunti and the Pandavas respectfully touched their feet. Observing this gesture, Bhishma offered his blessing, saying, "May God give you patience and faith, child."
In response, Kunti addressed Bhishma as "Taatshree" and continued, looking at the Pandavas, "These are my five sons. I've brought them here for your guardianship."
Hearing this, Bhishma said, "No, Kunti, please don't say that. They are not outsiders; this is rightfully their home." Looking at the Pandavas, he beckoned them closer, saying, "Come here, sons." Opening his arms wide, he enveloped them in a warm embrace.
Meanwhile, Kunti approached Gandhari and embraced her, her emotions overflowing as tears streamed down her cheeks. The poignant moment was interrupted by Vidur's voice, cutting through the atmosphere gently, "Sister-in-law, it's time for you to enter the temple. The priests are waiting for you."
Upon hearing Vidur's words, Gandhari nodded in agreement, saying, "Let's go, Kunti. The attendants will take the children into the palace. Before entering the palace, you also have to perform the purgation ceremony and then the ritual of entering the temple. Let's go."
Just as everyone was about to proceed inside, they were startled by a playful yet sweet and childish voice. "What a heart-touching scene! I am about to cry hearing all of this. What a great family!"
The unexpected interruption drew amused glances from the gathered group, as they turned to see the source of the voice. It was a young boy, his innocent eyes sparkling with mischief as he observed the emotional reunion unfolding before him. His presence added a touch of lightheartedness to the solemn moment, reminding everyone of the innocence and joy that children bring to the world.
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