Destiny or Accident?

Episode: 19 || Bluff!

"For you, a thousand times over."

Kunti was in her chambers, the stillness of the pre-dawn hours enveloping her. It was unusual for her to wake so early. Normally, she rose with the sun, her morning prayers beginning an hour after sunrise alongside Maharani Gandhari. Today, however, something stirred her from her sleep long before the sky began to lighten. Dawn was only just approaching, the first hints of deep blue softening the pitch-black horizon.

Kunti dressed in her simplest attire, the soft silks of her saree rustling as she moved. She took her pooja thali—a brass plate polished to a gleam, containing offerings for her morning prayers. But today, the thali held more than usual. Beside the regular flowers, incense, and sandalwood paste, there was a silver kalash filled with Ganga water, a rare sight outside the palace's pooja-ghar. More curious still was the small bowl of badam halwa, freshly prepared by her own hands before even the palace servants had stirred.

With a sense of purpose, Kunti stepped into the corridor. The palace was still wrapped in a cocoon of silence, the only sound the soft echo of her anklets on the marble floor. She moved quietly, as though not wanting to disturb the sanctity of this early hour.

As she passed her sons' chambers, she paused, drawn by the quiet comfort of their presence. The door was slightly ajar, and she peeked in. There, sprawled across a large floor mattress, were her sons—her beloved Pandavas. They slept together in a tangle of limbs, huddled close like they had in their younger days during their exile in the forest. The sight tugged at Kunti's heart, a nostalgic smile creeping across her face. It reminded her of the days when they were boys, seeking warmth and comfort in each other during the cold nights spent away from the luxuries of a royal life. Those were times of hardship, but also deep, unshakeable love.

She lingered at the door for a moment longer, watching their peaceful faces. Yudhishthira, with the calmness of a sage even in sleep; Bhima, sprawled protectively across his younger brothers, his both hands on Nakul and Sahedev who were sleeping on his either sides, their face scrunched a little probably from the huge weight on their chest; and Arjuna, still clutching his bow even in his rest.

With a soft sigh, Kunti tore herself away, knowing she had somewhere else to be. She slipped through the palace gates, stepping into the cool embrace of the morning. The path to the river was narrow, flanked by thick trees whose branches formed a natural canopy overhead. The forest was alive with the soft stirrings of dawn—the rustle of leaves, the distant cry of birds waking for the day.

As she walked, her mind wandered back to the events of a few days ago.

It was a few days after Kalapradarshan. The morning was serene, much like today. Kunti had just finished her Ganga Poojan, the cool breeze from the river still clinging to her skin, the sacred water droplets from the ritual still fresh on her forehead. The scent of sandalwood and marigold lingered in the air. She held the prasad in her hands, walking back slowly with her thoughts as calm as the river flowing beside her.

Up ahead, she noticed a group of children playing, their laughter filling the air. Something stirred in her, and she thought of sharing the prasad with them—perhaps a simple act of kindness to mark the end of her pooja. She began walking toward them, her steps light. But in that instant, everything changed.

But in a flash, everything changed.

Two arrows cut through the air, hurtling toward the unsuspecting boys. Kunti gasped, her hands trembling as she dropped the prasad. Time seemed to slow, her breath catching in her throat, when suddenly, a man stepped forward. He shielded the children with his body, stopping one arrow with his bare hand and taking the other with his back. But it didn't pierce him. No, something extraordinary happened—a golden armor emerged from his skin, shining as it absorbed the blow, splintering the arrow into pieces.