Dharmyudh : The Rewritten Destiny

65.2 Conflicted Thoughts

Duryodhan sat on a cold stone bench in the royal palace garden of Dwarika, staring blankly at the dusky sky, his thoughts as heavy as the mace he wielded in training. The evening sky, painted in hues of deep orange and purple, offered a tranquil contrast to his inner turmoil.

The late evening air was filled with the scent of blooming night jasmines, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze were the only sounds that broke the silence, yet they did little to soothe his troubled mind. It was a stark contrast to the clashing of maces and the grunts of combat that had filled his days. Here, in the tranquility of the garden, he could finally let his thoughts roam.

He had come to Dwarika to train under Balram, seeking to perfect his skills as a mace wielder. Yet, tonight, his mind was far from the battlefield. A recent message from Hastinapur had shaken him to his core: Bhanumati, his estranged wife, had given birth to twins-a boy and a girl. The news should have been a moment of joy, but for Duryodhan, it was a bitter reminder of his failings and the chasm that had grown between them.

He looked up at the sky, its vast expanse offering no answers. Duryodhan's thoughts drifted to Bhanumati. He remembered their quarrel, the sharp words exchanged, and the way her face had fallen when he accused her of adultery. He had been so sure of her betrayal then, fueled by his insecurities and the venomous whispers of those around him. He recalled the moment his uncle had publicly questioned her, the humiliation she must have felt, and his own silence, which had only compounded her disgrace.

His uncle's words echoed in his mind, a persistent, gnawing voice that refused to be silenced.

"She never loved you, Duryodhan. She loved your rival. Her heart was never yours."

The accusation had stung more deeply than any physical blow. He had believed it then, in a fit of rage and jealousy, he had believed it. Now, with time to reflect, he was no longer certain.

Duryodhan :- What have I done ?

He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible above the evening symphony of insects. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every gesture. The regret was a constant ache, a wound that refused to heal.

His mind replayed the scene from months ago: Bhanumati's tear-streaked face, her pleas for understanding, and his own cold, unyielding demeanor. He had let his pride and his uncle's insidious whispers poison his heart. Now, as he sat alone in the garden, he questioned the very foundation of his actions.

And after months of separation, he had received news that she had given birth to twins-a boy and a girl. The messenger's words had been like a knife to his heart. He should have been there with her, supporting her, rejoicing in the birth of their children. Instead, he was here, in Dwarika, training under Balram to become an expert mace wielder, trying to bury his guilt and regret under the guise of honing his skills.

He lifted his eyes to the sky, seeking solace in the vast expanse of stars. Did he do the right thing by doubting her? Was his judgment clouded by his own fears and the manipulations of others? He had always prided himself on his strength, his ability to see through deception, but now he felt weak, lost in a labyrinth of his own making.

Duryodhan sighed, leaning back on the bench. The sky had darkened, stars beginning to appear, each one a distant beacon of hope or a reminder of his solitude. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain, but the memories were relentless.

The soft rustle of leaves drew his attention back to the garden. The shadows lengthened as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, leaving him in the gentle embrace of twilight. He thought of Bhanumati again, of her laughter, her kindness, and the way she had once looked at him with love and trust. Had he thrown all that away because of a moment of weakness?