MIRAGE OF HEARTSTRINGS

RHYTHM OF SMALL HOURS

AT NIGHT

A serene rhythm of breathes echoed inside the guest room of Indraprastha as small hands clutches the mushy fabric of Angavastram of his father.

The Eldest Kaurava glance towards the clutched fingers before slowly placing his hands upon them, feeling the grip loosen.

For a moment, nothing breathes before the father of small child sighs looking at the luxurious ceiling. As his thoughts wander off to the recent events and then for a sudden punishable flash, towards his family.

Maybe if he would had the courage to protect his son, he would had been inside his palace with his family, his friends, his newly found elder brother. And maybe then, this wouldn't had been like this.

Awkward.

Flawed.

Erroneous.

But he didn't had courage. And he still does not have it even after so much time.

How much time has it been since he has entered Indraprastha? Weeks? No, Months.

Eight months.

By now, his friends would had been visited for about fifteen time in that ruined palace. But now?

They would be probably worrying or panicking over his and Lakshman's sudden disappearance. And frantically searching for them.

Even though he is scared of facing them with this decision, they have every right to know about this. They have earned that place. They have earned that position, that right to scold him because they are his family.

His family whom he has himself abandoned. But did he? Even he himself doesn't know what he is doing now?

Taking a shaky breathe, the former king of Hastinapur glance towards the paper and ink lying on the table after used by his son.

He pick them slowly before starting to write - telling them to not to worry about them and that he is currently staying at a different place. Safe? Don't know. But he is not telling them the location. No, he doesn't want his worst scenario to come true.

After writing, he once again reread the letter before standing up, leaving the Angavastram still in clutches on the bed.

He walk towards the dresser to pull out thread to tie the letter before this eyes catches the reflection in the mirror.

It took a painfull long time for Duryodhana to realise that his breathing has fasten as he took deep breathes to calm himself down.

Gathering up the courage, he once again look towards the mirror at his reflection. The reflection of a Man he himself is unable to recognise. The last time he saw his reflection, he was with his son and his wife alias best friend.

However, now- The man in front of him is someone who has lost so much yet gained many things. A man who has survived another day and fulfilled his promise. He looks a recluse with no home to turn back at. He noticed his demeanor has changed but he didn't realise how much his physical appearance has also changed.

It made him stun, how much he has changed over these four and half years.

Like a warrior to Survivor.

This sudden revelation also made him think whether his brothers has also changed. Even though he had heard from Karna, is his little brother handling Hastinapur properly? Are they also thinking of him?

It would be probably good if they don't, Duryodhana doesn't know whether he will be able to handle another ache of hurting his family further more.

Coming out of the trance, the elder man tied the letter with thread before opening the window, looking for a messanger bird with catching unnecessary attention.

He stood for a long time but upon finding none, he decided to just postpone it for a while. Just as he was about to close the window, a messanger bird came toward the window making Duryodhana relieved as he carefully tied the letter onto the bird's leg before flying him above.

As he watched the bird until it disappears from his sight making him close the window.

The father figure once again moved toward the bed, climbing slowly to not to disturb the sleeping child. As he laid down beside the sleeping figure, placing his protective arm over the fragile child body.

Closing his eyes, Duryodhana decided to await for the reply to the return in few days.

Unaware of the truth that instead of flying of at the destination given by Duryodhana, the bird has flown towards the open window just above once floor of the palace.

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A fair hand spread in the air as the bird sat down on the hand while the other hand open the letter.

As the figure read the letter, an imperceivable smirk made its way to his face while he thought of the next step in his plan.

The week has already been past hectic, but it seems that the tomorrow is either going to be end of all or start of wreckage.

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