Anya's ancient antics: a mahabharat tale

chapter 39

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The room was still filled with laughter from Anya's dramatic proclamation, but Krishna wasn’t done teasing. He had a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he turned to face Anya, who was grinning brightly, clearly satisfied with how things had turned out.

“Anya,” Krishna said with mock seriousness, tapping his chin, “you do realize that your ever-loyal servants and all of us worked tirelessly to prepare for your grand wedding, don’t you? I mean, the decorations, the flowers, the arrangements… Everything was perfect.” He glanced around as if surveying the palace, then smirked. “And now it’s all gone to waste because you ran off and got married *so unceremoniously*.”

Anya’s eyes widened as she gasped dramatically. “Oh no, that’s terrible!” she cried, placing a hand on her forehead in mock despair. “I can’t believe I robbed everyone of the grand wedding experience. But wait…” She dropped her hand and flashed a mischievous smile. “I’m not done yet. I am going to marry again—this time with all the grandeur I deserve! I’ve always wanted a big, fancy wedding with flowers everywhere, music, dancing—just the works!”

Duryodhan, standing beside her, couldn’t help but chuckle at her theatrics. “Another wedding?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Anya, we’re already married.”

She waved him off with a dismissive hand. “Details, details. Just because we’re married doesn’t mean I can’t have my dream wedding.” She spun around to look at Devaki, her face lighting up. “Right, Mata? I should get my grand wedding, right?”

Devaki, who had been watching the playful banter with a soft smile, nodded eagerly. “Of course, my dear. I also want to see you married properly, with all the celebrations and traditions.” Her eyes twinkled with excitement. “A grand wedding in Dwarka would be wonderful.”

Krishna couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “I agree! In fact, we should start planning immediately. After all, it’s not every day that we get to witness such an important occasion.” He winked at Anya, clearly enjoying her excitement.

Anya clasped her hands together, her face full of glee. “See, Duryodhan?” she said, turning to him with a triumphant smile. “Even Krishna agrees! It’s settled—we’re getting married again. This time, we’ll do it right, with all the pomp and grandeur Dwarka can offer!”

Duryodhan raised a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “As long as you’re happy, Anya,” he said with a smirk, though there was a warmth in his tone that hinted at his affection for her.

---

Days passed in a whirlwind of preparations. Dwarka buzzed with excitement as everyone eagerly awaited the grand wedding. The palace was adorned with magnificent flowers, golden drapes, and intricate decorations that stretched as far as the eye could see. Musicians practiced their melodies, and the finest chefs prepared feasts fit for royalty. The air smelled of sweet jasmine and sandalwood, with colorful rangolis gracing the palace floors.

On the day of the wedding, Anya stood in her chamber, gazing at herself in the mirror. Her wedding attire was nothing short of breathtaking—a deep crimson lehenga embroidered with gold thread, shimmering as she moved. The heavy jewelry she wore—glistening bangles, a large nose ring, and a maang tikka—added to her radiant appearance. Her blonde hair was adorned with fresh jasmine flowers, and her kohl-lined eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Oh, I look like a queen!” Anya exclaimed, twirling around in front of the mirror. She turned to Tara, her maid, who was busy adjusting the pleats of her lehenga. “Do you think Duryodhan’s going to faint when he sees me?”

Luna gave her a sideways glance and smirked. “If he doesn’t, I’ll make him.”

Anya laughed loudly, enjoying the playful banter. “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s get this show on the road! I’m ready to make the most dramatic entrance ever!”

Outside, in the grand courtyard, Duryodhan stood with Krishna and Balaram, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Duryodhan wore a royal attire, dark and regal, with gold detailing that matched Anya’s outfit. He exuded calm confidence, but there was an unmistakable softness in his eyes as he thought about the woman he was about to marry—again.

Krishna leaned over to Duryodhan and grinned. “Are you nervous?”

Duryodhan raised an eyebrow. “Nervous? No. But I am curious about what new drama Anya will create today.”

Krishna laughed. “Ah, you’ve already learned the first rule of being married to Anya—expect the unexpected.”

Balaram, standing nearby, shook his head in mock dismay. “My sisters and their penchant for making every event memorable.” But there was a proud smile on his face as he spoke.

The sound of drums and flutes filled the air as Anya made her grand entrance. The crowd gasped as she stepped into view, radiant and beaming. Duryodhan’s eyes locked onto her, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Anya flashed him a playful wink as she approached, and Duryodhan couldn’t help but smile.

The ceremony was nothing short of spectacular. The priests chanted holy mantras, the fire burned brightly, and the sounds of bells echoed through the courtyard. Anya and Duryodhan circled the sacred fire, their hands bound together by a garland of marigolds. Each step they took was met with cheers from the crowd, and Anya, true to her nature, added her own flair to the occasion.

As they exchanged garlands, Anya leaned in and whispered to Duryodhan, “You’re not regretting this grand wedding, are you?”

Duryodhan chuckled, shaking his head. “Not for a second.”

Anya grinned. “Good, because I’m already thinking about what we’ll do for the anniversary celebration.”

The entire gathering laughed as the ceremony concluded, and the couple was showered with blessings and flower petals.

---

**Nakul’s POV**

While the grand wedding unfolded, Nakul remained absent. Sitting by the banks of a river, far from the celebrations, he stared at the rippling water, lost in his thoughts. His heart was heavy with emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.

He had known for a long time that Anya’s feelings for him weren’t romantic. She had always treated him as a friend, and he had tried to come to terms with that. But seeing her marry Duryodhan—of all people—was something he hadn’t been prepared for.

*How could she choose him?* Nakul wondered, clenching his fists. *How could she choose Duryodhan over me, over all of us?*

He had avoided the wedding, not because he didn’t care for Anya, but because he couldn’t bear to watch her marry someone else, especially someone like Duryodhan. The memories of all the pain Duryodhan had caused his family haunted him, and the thought of Anya being with him was unbearable.

But deep down, Nakul knew that Anya was happy. He had seen it in her eyes, in the way she looked at Duryodhan. She had made her choice, and as much as it hurt, Nakul couldn’t deny her the happiness she deserved.

*I hope he treats you well, Anya,* Nakul thought, his heart heavy. *I hope he makes you happy.*

With a sigh, he rose from his spot by the river and walked away, leaving behind his unspoken feelings and the memories of what could have been.