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─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
ACT. 4 — SCENE 7.
Third Person's POV
In Hastinapur
"Glory to Mahamahim Bheeshma," the guard interrupted Bhishma, who was currently reading a letter from the youngest queen of Dvarika, inviting him for the wedding of her beloved nephew and his great-grandson.
"Maharaj is coming to see you," the guard left.
"Maharaj?" Bheeshma asked himself, surprised that his nephew wished to see him after such a long time.
"Putra." Bheeshma said as he guided Dhritarashtra.
"Pranaamtatshree," Bheeshma blessed him as he made him sit on the couch.
"Khush raho putra. Now tell me, what made you think of me after such a long time?" Pitamah asked in a tired voice.
"It is my misfortune tatshree, that even you think that I am against the Pandavas," Pitamah sighed, knowing that his nephew was here to advocate for himself and his sons.
"Don't raise the issue of what I think and what I don't," Pitamah cut in as he walked away from the king. "Nowadays, I don't even trust myself."
"Forget about me," Pitamah now faced Dhritarashra. "If my words carried any weight Duryodhan would have agreed that the day, he faced Arjun was many months after the conclusion of the Pandava's anonymity."
"I have been accused of being partial to my own land. I am isolated now, son. I am totally alone." his voice cracked.
"No tatshree," Dhritarastra immediately got up.
"Both the Pandavas and Kauravas are yours." he consoled. "And I am at your service."
"I don't need any service son. It is Hastinapur which needs your service. Hastinapur which is the legacy of our ancestors." Pitamaha looked at his nephew with a hopeful glint in his eyes, hoping he would understand the old man's inner turmoil.
"Dhritrashtra, putra, just think about it. Warriors fight battles. Some emerge victorious and some are defeated. Some return victorious while some die in the battlefield but the state with its roots intact stands like a tree and bears the wounds. It can't even die like a defeated warrior. The state can only cease to exist over a period of centuries. Sometimes I get scared thinking what if this this city discovered centuries later and the history raises questions about me, and you what answers will it provide? Will we be considered good people? The ones who defended the truth and ethics." Dhritarashtra looked away from his uncle.
"I don't think so putra. I don't think so." Pitamaha dejectedly said. "And look at my misfortune putra. I'm fated to go on living. The girl who worshipped me as her god whom I cherished as a child of my own, refuses to even recognize. There is probably not a single moment of happiness left for me in the future now." He held Dhritarashtra by his shoulders.
