Saga Of The Timeless (A Mahabharata Story)

13. In the Shadow of Fate

I looked around the dimly lit hut in Guru Parashurama's ashram, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. The damp clothes clung to my skin like a second layer, cold and uncomfortable. Every movement made them stickier against my body, and a cool breeze slipped through the cracks in the wooden walls, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my knees closer to my chest, trying to preserve what little warmth I had left.

Through a small window, I could see Guru Parashurama and Karna standing by the river, their silhouettes outlined by the soft light of dawn. They were talking, their heads bent close together, but their voices were too low for me to make out the words. I strained to hear, my curiosity piqued. What were they discussing with such intensity? My mind raced with possibilities, none of them particularly comforting.

"Putri, here are some dry clothes. Change into these," came a gentle voice from behind me. I turned around, startled, to see Mata Dharini, the wife of Guru Parashurama, standing there with a soft smile on her face. She held a bundle of neatly folded clothes in her hands. Her presence was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling in my mind.

I nodded, appreciating Mata Dharini's help, and before I knew it, a few other women from the ashram gathered around to assist me in changing into the dry clothes. I quickly slipped out of my soaked garments, grateful for the warm, fresh fabric now against my skin. The women worked swiftly, and soon I was dressed in a simple, yet elegant, sari.

"Why is it taking so long?" I muttered under my breath, my gaze drifting back to the window. Karna and Guru Parashurama were still deep in conversation by the riverbank. The way they moved, with Karna's head bowed and the Guru's hands gesturing firmly, sent a wave of anxiety through me. "Is Guru Parashurama angry? Has Karna made things worse? Was this really a good idea?" My thoughts spiraled, each one darker than the last.

"Don't worry, Putri," Mata Dharini said softly as she began to brush my hair, her hands moving with a gentle, practiced ease. She picked up some delicate flowers from a nearby basket and started weaving them into my hair. "They are just talking. You see, Karna is Guru Parashurama's most beloved student. They must be discussing something important."

I tried to force a smile. "Mata, why are you putting flowers in my hair? It's really not necessary," I said, feeling a little awkward under all this attention.

"Nonsense, Putri. You are a young woman, a beautiful one at that, and you should be adorned well," she replied with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling. "Besides, I never had a daughter of my own. Today, you have given me the joy of fulfilling a mother's wish—dressing up her daughter for the first time."

Her words were filled with such affection that I couldn't help but smile, albeit awkwardly. "I'm honored, Mata," I said softly, trying to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks.

Mata Dharini continued, "When I was younger, I always dreamed of having a daughter to dress up and take care of. I would collect the prettiest flowers, just like these, and imagine the joy of decorating her hair."

I glanced at her, noticing the faraway look in her eyes—a mixture of longing and contentment. "Mata, I'm glad I could fulfill your wish," I said hesitantly, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

She smiled softly. "Arya may seem strict, but he has a kind heart, especially for those who seek his guidance with sincerity. And Karna... he is a favorite of Arya. He was angry, yes, but more concerned. And today, Karna has proven his worth by coming here. I think some credit for that goes to you, Putri."

(Arya - noble one, term of respect and affection for her husband.)

I swallowed, unsure of how to respond. The warmth of her hands and the delicate scent of the flowers were comforting, yet my mind kept drifting back to Karna and Guru Parashurama by the river.