A String Of Pearls

The End Nears

The fifteenth day dawned harsh and chilly, the cold holding down the smoke from last night's pyres, some of which still continued to burn.

The army was tired after the elongated battle of the past day. It was visible in their lethargic movements and in the way the soldiers dragged their feet.

Bhanumati forced herself to go through the routine of applying the sacred tilak on the foreheads of all the men in her family, trying not to pay attention to how few of those remained compared to the beginning. It was almost impossible though. Thirty five Kauravas remained and only thirty nine of her nephews compared to the original one hundred fifty three.

She knew that she shouldn't lose hope till the end, till Guru Drona and Bhrata Karna were still alive and fighting, but she couldn't help but feel like they were going to lose the War.

Well, she and so many other mothers had already lost the war.

Duryodhan and Dronacharaya had gotten into another argument that dawn about the older man supporting the Pandavas. Once again it had ended with Guru Drona swearing to prove his loyalty to the Kaurava side.

Feeling bone weary, she headed towards the healing camps once the men had departed for battle hoping to keep herself distracted by helping there.

Defeat had started sinking into her bones prematurely. It did not suit a Kshatrani to feel as though her side of battle would be defeated until a moment before it did, but Bhanumati couldn't help it.

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That night when the warriors returned, there was a subdued hush all over.

Defeat seemed to echo in their footsteps.

Only eighteen Kaurava brothers remained. And twenty five children. In five days, eighty-eight Kauravas and a hundred and twenty eight of their children had died. But Bhanumati had to numb herself to the pain so that she could comfort her sisters.

Banasena had been killed by Bheem as well. Vrushali di was dead on her feet by now.

But that, it seemed, was not the reason for the defeated nature of the army.

In the center of the returning party, laden by pall bearers was the body and severed head of Dronacharya.

Bhanumati gasped. Another commander of theirs had fallen and yet Drishtadyumna was still alive and unharmed even as his and Yagyaseni's father had been killed by his once friend.

Ashwathama followed behind and Duryodhan had an arm around his shoulders. Ashwathama's steps were slow but his face was thunderous.

It seemed that once again the Pandavas, the so-called upholders of Dharma in this war, had broken the rules and killed an unarmed Dronacharya after lying to him about his son's death.

Bhanumati was horrified. How could one lie to someone about their child's death? Especially to their Guru?

All the cousins fighting in this war were capable of fighting because of Guru Drona's training. Guru Drona had always favoured the Pandavas. He had always loved Arjun. And the Pandavas did this to him?!

Even the so-called Dharmaraj Yudhishtir lied? To his teacher?! It was unfathomable. And Bheem and Arjun had both lost a son each. They must have known what that grief felt like. And they still committed such treachery.

Everybody lies, Bhanumati thought, when they say that the Pandavas are upholders of Dharma.

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