1 Battles of the Past, Reflections of the Present

Amidst the sprawling battlefield of Kurukshetra, a sea of armored warriors, their gleaming weapons raised high, advanced with unwavering determination. The sun cast a fiery glow upon the vast expanse, setting the stage for a cataclysmic clash between righteousness and tyranny.

The thundering hooves of war elephants shook the earth as they charged forward, their mighty tusks adorned with deadly blades. The air resonated with the clamor of war drums, conch shells, and the resounding battle cries of valiant warriors. Banners bearing the symbols of various kingdoms fluttered in the wind, rallying soldiers to their respective leaders.

Arrows, like a dark cloud of death, filled the skies, unleashed by archers of unparalleled skill. They streaked through the air, seeking their targets with deadly precision. Shields clashed with swords, and the clash of steel upon steel created a symphony of war, echoing across the battlefield.

Amidst this chaos, heroes of unmatched valor stood out, their noble steeds carrying them into the heart of the fray. The battlefield was a canvas painted with the blood of fallen warriors, where courage and fearlessness were as common as the dust beneath their feet. The gods themselves watched in awe as mortals displayed their unwavering resolve to uphold dharma (duty) and fulfill their destinies. Amidst this epic struggle, a divine chariot glided through the chaos like the sun dispelling darkness, its presence illuminating the battlefield. 

Arjuna's chariot was a marvel to behold, a symbol of his virtuous and heroic nature. Crafted by the divine hands of the celestial architect, Vishwakarma, it radiated a celestial aura that set it apart from the mundane chariots of mortal warriors. Its design was not just a mode of transportation but a manifestation of his divine destiny.

The chariot's frame was adorned with ornate carvings and embellished with precious gemstones that sparkled in the sunlight. Its wheels, like giant golden discs, turned effortlessly, carrying the weight of the world upon them. The axle, crafted from the very bones of the universe, seemed unbreakable.

A silken canopy, emblazoned with the emblem of Lord Krishna's divine conch shell and discus, shielded Arjuna from the blazing sun. This celestial umbrella offered not only physical shade but also the assurance of divine protection. Additionally, a flag bearing the form of Lord Hanuman fluttered above, safeguarding the warrior from malevolent forces.

At the helm of the chariot stood Lord Krishna, Arjuna's divine charioteer and guide. The reins of the chariot were always held firmly in His hands, signifying His control over the course of destiny. With each movement of the reins, the chariot responded swiftly and gracefully, carrying Arjuna into the heart of the battlefield.

In the stead of the valiant warrior of justice, Arjuna, there stood a father grieving for his fallen son. In his eyes, one could witness an unfathomable blend of seething rage and profound despair as they scanned the battlefield, relentlessly seeking out the perpetrator for a reckoning of divine justice. He had solemnly pledged to exact vengeance before the sun dipped below the horizon, vowing that failure would lead him to choose the path of self-destruction.

Under the command of their revered teacher, Guru Dronacharya, a threefold formation was deployed to safeguard Jayadratha from the relentless pursuit of Arjuna: The Shakata Vyuha, resembling a cart; the Suchimukha Vyuha, akin to a needle; and finally, the Padma Vyuha, a formation resembling a lotus. Despite these formidable defenses, the combined might of Bhima, Satyaki, and Arjuna carved a destructive path through the Kaurava ranks.

Yet, as the relentless tide of warriors fell back to shield Jayadratha, it became evident that Arjuna would not reach his target before the setting sun. At this climactic juncture, with daylight nearly extinguished and thousands of defenders still standing between Arjuna and Jayadratha, Lord Krishna took matters into His divine hands. He summoned His Sudarshana Chakra, which eclipsed the sun, creating the illusion of sunset, and thus, a momentous opportunity to fulfill Arjuna's oath presented itself. The Kaurava warriors rejoiced in what appeared to be Arjuna's defeat and eagerly anticipated his impending demise. Jayadratha, who had been in hiding, felt a surge of relief at his own narrow escape, momentarily overlooking the sacrifices of many valiant warriors. Emboldened, he emerged from his protective formation and openly taunted Arjuna.

Suddenly, the sun emerged from behind the eclipse, casting its brilliant light upon the battlefield. In this crucial moment, Lord Krishna extended His divine finger, directing Arjuna's attention towards the concealed Jayadratha. With unwavering resolve, Krishna instructed Arjuna to sever Jayadratha's head and send it hurtling into the lap of Jayadratha's father.

In a swift and precise motion, Arjuna drew upon the power of the Pashupatastra, a weapon known for its potential for utter annihilation. He launched it directly at Jayadratha, cleaving his head from his body. Jayadratha's severed head, carried by the formidable force of the arrow, soared far from the battlefield, ultimately finding its chilling resting place on the lap of his father, Vridhakshatra. His father had been granted a boon that whosoever would be responsible for his son's severed head falling onto the ground would have his own head burst into a hundred pieces. Therefore, when Vridhakshatra, horrified at having his son's head fall in his lap hurriedly got up, it fell to the ground, killing Vridhakshatra himself at that very moment.

This is how Jayadratha met his end: a powerful king, blessed with divine favor, ultimately met a tragic demise driven by a dangerous blend of arrogance and recklessness, tragically ensnaring his beloved father in the vortex of destruction.

Although I've read this epic countless times, I still find the fate of this king oddly amusing. As a 21st-century teenager, deeply immersed in novels and anime, I've encountered many stories where young scions of prominent families meet their downfall due to hubris and imprudence. It's almost comical that such an ancient character exemplified a timeless archetype.

Jayadratha had entered the war on his brother-in-law Duryodhana's side, driven by a desire to seek retribution for the humiliation he suffered. This humiliation had stemmed from his own reckless desires when he, despite knowing Draupadi's identity, had boldly proposed marriage to her. Initially, Draupadi had welcomed him as a Pandava's brother-in-law, but she vehemently rejected his proposal. Enraged by her refusal, Jayadratha resorted to a grievous act – he abducted Draupadi and began to move her toward his kingdom.

His audacious move did not go unanswered. Arjuna swiftly intervened and confronted Jayadratha. In the ensuing confrontation, Bhima, the formidable Pandava, subjected Jayadratha to a brutal beating, leaving him near death. However, in a gesture of magnanimity, Jayadratha was eventually spared, albeit with a shorn head, as a sign of his humiliation and defeat.

I couldn't help but wonder how a king could be so remarkably foolish. As I mulled over this thought, I realized it was one of those tendencies of overthinking that often plagues introverted teenagers like me. Having grown up as an orphan and spending most of my life alone, I've developed the habit of overthinking. Although my life has been marked by its fair share of struggles, it hasn't been overwhelmingly challenging. I was discovered abandoned near a temple in Ujjain by a Brahman, the temple priest. He swiftly became a father figure to me, as he was the one to name me Soumya, which translates to "Peaceful" and "Gentle," also signifying Lord Shiva. I often faced teasing and taunts due to my name, as it is sometimes used for girls. Nevertheless, I remain immensely grateful to my beloved baba (father).

I was fortunate enough to receive scholarships and secure a tuition-free seat in one of the country's top engineering colleges. Filled with high spirits and a determination to score a girlfriend as soon as possible, I had just embarked on my bachelor's degree journey. My baba always cautioned me about my tendency to assist people who perhaps shouldn't have been helped. I couldn't quite understand why he said that, but it may have been because there were numerous instances where I found myself in situations thinking, "If only someone would help me." Consequently, when I had the capability to help someone else, I often did so without overthinking it. My thoughts took an abrupt turn, and the reason for my contemplation became unmistakable—I had been struck by a truck while rescuing a disabled person.

"Where is he? Is he safe?" I tried to move my head groggily. To my surprise, I spotted a person with crutches in hand and a bandaged leg. Astonishingly, he stood on both his legs, accompanied by someone wielding a camera. As our eyes met, they hastily retreated. A weak chuckle escaped my bloodied lips. How ironic it was that a life that seemed poised for a pleasant turn had met its end due to a social media prank. I couldn't help but despise the influence of social media and yearn for simpler times when such things didn't exist.

Maybe, had I been in the place of the foolish king, Jayadratha, I could have saved the lives of thousands of valiant soldiers who perished while protecting him. My vision slowly began to dim, and as I teetered on the brink of consciousness, I realized there weren't many regrets in my life. Perhaps I died like one of those anime protagonists, forever untouched in matters of love. It wasn't as if I expected another chance; this was it.

Yet, I felt a pang of sorrow for my baba. He now had to carry the weight that was once my responsibility. I held onto a glimmer of hope that if an afterlife existed, I might have the opportunity to encounter some gods. Not that I had any expectations, for I was merely a poor orphan who had clung to faith as a source of hope. With that thought, I closed my eyes.