MAHABHARAT--- Though the fighting between the Pandavs and Kauravs remain at the heart of it, the epic revolves around the conflict of Dharma. In this work of fiction I present to you the human emotions, conversation, thoughts of everyone as they mee...
A/N: Heya fellas! I posted a special update upon reaching 10k before it named 'QnA session' where y'all can ask me anything- ranging from where I get the plot ideas or what gave me the initial idea to write, or related to myself, my writing plans or any stuff, I will answer without any filter. I like answering to your queries and also listening to your views. So hop up there. Happy reading!
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The rustling of winds and the brushing of leaves gave birth to a symphonic bubble hiding the mighty figure of Bheem in its tune. He could feel his heart drumming against his ribs as in sync with the melodies of the nature. Family. He always held his family among foremost of him. Be it taking revenge by tearing his cousin's chest or following his elder brother to the path of death, not once did his hands falter for them.
However, why his feet were plastered to the ground not daring to take one a step further now? Was it the dread of not seeing them for a painfully long time? Or was it the pain that strung love together?
When Bheem came to this mysterious land, he didn't know he would meet them again. That he could listen to Nakul's high pitched and witty remarks, or the subtle jokes of Sahadev, or even Kunti's loving embrace. The Pandav never thought that there were another world, where he could be strung all over again. However, it wasn't same. The picture of his perfect family differed now, because he was feeling anxious by someone's gaze towards him.
However, deep in his being, he subconsciously knew it wasn't his twin siblings or his Maa who were making him anxious. It was a particular man with lean figure, pale skin and piercing black eye. The man which was now looking at him intently with an arm extended inviting him to a hug. Vrikodar feverishly wanted nothing but to accept the man's arms, but wasn't his father dead? Wasn't Bheem the one to carry the sandalwoods for the pyre? Didn't his Jyestha, with red eyes and aching heart set the pyre ablaze?
"Vrikodar"
Bheem upon being called again looked to Pandu hesitantly. The name which literally meant 'wolf-bellied' sounded so gentle in Pandu's melodious voice, as if the mere pronunciation of his name name itself crumbled all the walls of the anxiety building within himself. Pandu's voice which seemed ancient to Bheem brought forth the fateful day where he had lost the father figure he looked upon the most, and the day that marked the start to Bheem's journey to protect those who were unfortunately left behind.
The river, the ever flowing river. Pandu once taught the five Kuru children to be like the river. 'No matter what impurities the water is polluted with, it flows with them and then mixes with the big mighty sea.'
Bheem noticed with time all his brothers, one way or not, somehow resembled the calm and serenity of the river. But he didn't want to be a flowing river, he didn't want to carry around the dirt. Bheem simply wanted to uproot the whole obstacle from his path. And he did, and Pandu admired him for his rebel nature.
