Since time told tales ...
Hatred, War and Blood were the words used to elaborate the relation between 𝔓𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔞𝔩 and ℌ𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔭𝔲𝔯.
Both the empires had it all.
The perfect family, Flourishing kingdoms, Powerful heirs to carry their name...
Evening festivities were in full swing at Dwarka. The Pandavas sat on one side of the long festive aisle, while the Kauravas sat on the opposite side.
9 majestic seats in the middle were for Vasudev Krishn and his eight principal wives but the king himself occupied only one.
All the women were chattering happily and moving around merrily. We, five brothers too were smiling and making conversations with the Royal Yadavs of Dwarka but it was not foreign to us that our full attention was on the magical woman who weaved in and out of the crowd laughing and commenting. The Pandavas had still not gotten a chance to talk to her since. One or Two things always seemed to pop up. I rubbed my forehead impatiently.
Impatiently? Wasn't I known for my patience?
I sighed as I got up to fetch a glass of cool chaas from the refreshment section to calm my throbbing head down or soothe my irregular heartbeat after that smile. Whatever way you see it.
The maid poured me the chaas as I nodded my acknowledgment and smiled gratefully. I was on my way back with a piece of mathri and a glass of masala chaas when I heard the low tones of Dusshasan and Durjaya taking beneath the nearby tree. I was about to move ahead when a name suddenly caught my attention.
Draupadi.
I knew, eavesdropping is terrible but honestly who cares. Not when it includes that woman. I sharpened my ear, trying hard to listen but was interrupted by a melodious voice. So were the two Kauravas and literally everyone else present there.
Music filled the serene evening air. Suddenly my body was moving on its own as were my brothers. We moved enchanted by the voice towards the center where the players sat with their veenas accompanying the dancing and singing beauty, the Pandavas could feel their hearts beat faster and sink deeper.
Mohe rang do laal
Her long black tresses blew in the air and shimmered as if they were fire itself. The soothing smell of blue lotus and jasmine surrounded the dancer.
Mohe rang do laal
Her soft skin glistened under the moon shone like gold.
Nand ke laal laal
Chhedo nahi bas rang do laal
Her alta-stained palms, twisted gracefully to form the flower mudra putting flowers themselves to shame.
Mohe rang do laal
Her cherry lips parted slightly ever so frequently when the flawless tunes flowed out of her.
Dekhu dekhu tujhko main hoke nihaal
Dekhu dekhu tujhko main hoke nihaal
Chhu lo kora mora kaanch sa tann
Nain bhar kya rahe nihaar
Her slim hourglass waist moved rhythmically, entrapping the five in a spell that they knew not cure of.
Mohe rang do laal
Nand ke laal laal
Chhedo naahi bas rang do laal
Her mesmerizing black lotus eyes shone with promise, with passion and an unexplained warmth with her every dance step.
Then those VERY eyes turned to them, and suddenly it felt as if their soul had abandoned their body.
The black of her eyes bore into the brown of theirs and with this, it hit the Pandavas.
They were totally screwed.
Author's Note: Yes, I lied about the update schedule. Algebra strikes once again. Peace.
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