MIRAGE OF HEARTSTRINGS

BLISSFUL SIN

"is it alright Rajkumar Sahadeva?"

"Huh?......yes, it is alright" The youngest Panduputra before continuing on his track as he observe his surrounding.

White marble carved with victories of Kings, royal embroidery that speaks thousand stories but none that compeer with serenity. The warm light of setting sun falling on the palace like raindrops on peacock, shining the palace like enchanted sun.

But everything hollow to the hazel eyes of the youngest Kaunteya who glanced back at the entrance upon hearing the children laughter. Wondering if it is just effortless to be happy or if it is just him feeling it to be complicated.

The younger man couldn't help but to think when it became complicated to be happy? Was it when he stopped being happy? Or was it-

"There is no dead body found but the confirmation of demise of Maharaj of Hastinapur and Rajkumar Lakshman is there"

Such an annoying sentence.

Why?
How?
When?

Everything went away with him.

There is nothing to ponder on when he, the youngest Madriputra couldn't even comprehend when it happened.

It - an unnamed emotion. An unknown feeling. An unknown pain. Or an unknown abhor. Or maybe something unnamed....

Nothing sane. Nothing familiar - yet painful and own like he is made for that pain.

The kind of pain that first came with that news - Maharaj Duryodhana is dead.

Sahadeva's world crumbled in silence that day when he walked beside his brothers, his steps slow, his eyes fixed on the ground. His heart thundered inside his chest, and yet it felt like the world had gone mute. Every word spoken around him blurred into meaningless noise.

"Duryodhana is gone," Arjuna muttered under his breath, his tone half disbelief, half, he couldn't comprehend.

Bheem only gave a sharp exhale, his fists clenched. His jaw was set, his eyes unreadable. Yudhishthir, the eldest, kept his face calm, though his silence spoke of weight he dared not show. Nakula walked quietly, gaze forward, too guarded to let slip what stirred in his chest.

But Sahadeva - the youngest, the silent observer of them all - felt something no words could hold.
Inside him, a storm raged.

The bond of that cursed celestial cloth had long been broken. Hidimba's wisdom had freed them. Yet Sahadeva knew the truth: he had never been free. Not from the memory of Duryodhana's gaze, not from the strange pull of his presence, not from the secret that clung to his heart like a wound he could never show.

He knew he could not tell his brothers. They would never understand. None of them knew what he carried. None of them knew he loved the man they called their enemy.

And now... that man was gone.

The news was confirmed by messengers. "The cliff," they said. "A fall no mortal could survive. Duryodhana, Bhanumati, and the child Lakshman..."

Sahadeva's breath caught at the name. The world tilted for a moment. He gripped a pillar to steady himself as the words echoed: Duryodhana. Dead. Gone forever.

Bhanumati. Lakshman. He had never wished them ill, it is just...........

But Duryodhana- The youngest Pandava bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. He forced his face to remain impassive. His brothers must not see.