Anya's ancient antics: a mahabharat tale

chapter 18

Nakul stood in front of the mirror, gently humming as he combed his luscious, silky hair. Each stroke made his hair gleam in the sunlight, and he admired his reflection with a satisfied grin. His hair was his pride, and he treated it like a crown.

Meanwhile, across the room, Bheem was busy munching on a giant plate of laddoos, crumbs falling onto his chest as he devoured each one with zeal. On the other side, Sahdev, ever the opportunist, was quietly trying to steal a laddoo from his distracted brother’s plate.

Bheem suddenly glanced at Nakul, raising an eyebrow. "Nakul, why are you grooming yourself like a woman? You’ve been standing in front of that mirror for ages!"

Nakul, not taking his eyes off his reflection, gave a dramatic flip of his hair. "Brother, I am the most handsome man in Aryavart. I have a reputation to uphold. Beauty like this doesn’t just happen—it requires maintenance!"

Bheem snorted, crossing his arms over his massive chest. "Handsome? What’s the point of being handsome? Do you have muscles like me? Look at me—eating all these laddoos makes me stronger!" He flexed his biceps proudly, as Sahdev made another failed attempt at stealing a laddoo.

Nakul rolled his eyes, putting down his comb with exaggerated elegance. "Oh, Bheem Bhaiya. Women don’t care about muscles; they are attracted to beauty! While you're busy stuffing your face with sweets, I’m the one turning heads with my looks. Trust me, women love a well-groomed man, not a laddoo-eating giant!"

Bheem glared, half offended, half amused. "Nakul! What's so important about being handsome? Will it help you in a fight? Can you defeat enemies with your hair?"

Nakul smirked, flicking a strand of hair back. "Why bother fighting when I can charm my way out of anything? Beauty, my dear brother, is its own weapon."

Bheem laughed heartily, thumping his chest. "Well, charm won’t save you when you face a real opponent. You should focus more on your muscles and less on your hair."

Before Nakul could retort, Arjun walked in, a sly grin on his face. He looked at Nakul with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Nakul, you might want to rethink that ‘most handsome’ title."

Nakul raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh? And why’s that, Arjun Bhaiya? Have you suddenly become interested in fashion and beauty tips?"

Arjun’s grin widened as he leaned against the doorframe. "Apparently, the girl you like prefers *bald* men. Says they’re low maintenance."

Nakul froze, his hand instinctively flying to his perfectly styled hair. "W-What? Anya likes bald men? No, no, that can’t be! My hair… it’s beautiful!" He began to inspect his reflection in the mirror, touching his hair in horror. "My hair is my crowning glory! She can’t prefer bald men… that’s impossible!"

Arjun chuckled, crossing his arms. "I didn’t say Anya though." He gave Nakul a teasing glance, watching his brother panic.

Bheem burst into laughter, slapping his knee. "A bald man, Nakul! Looks like all that grooming is for nothing if she prefers no hair at all! Maybe you should shave your head and see if you get more attention!"

Sahdev, finally succeeding in grabbing a laddoo, popped it into his mouth and chimed in, grinning. "Yeah, Nakul Bhaiya! Imagine how much time you'd save without having to comb your hair all the time!"

Nakul’s eyes widened in horror. "No, I refuse! My hair is my pride! It’s what makes me, *me*! I’d rather—" He paused, running his fingers through his hair again. "I’d rather lose a battle than my hair!"

Arjun couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. "Don’t worry, Nakul, I’m just teasing. But if you don’t believe me, you could always ask Draupadi. She’s been hearing some interesting things lately."