Hidden behind those red blindfolds, were curious eyes that once saw the world, soaked it's hue and carried dreams like every other girl. Gandhari, mother of 101 kids, sister of Shakuni but most importantly, she was yet another bird shackled by rules...
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Stumbling on a block of wood, I tried to breathe but the smoke was everywhere. My lungs were burning in need of air but no relief was granted to my withering self as perhaps, the Gods were punishing me for the wrong decisions I took throughout my life. I could feel the pain, the pain of the embers marking my skin, it had an unpleasant warmth to it. Dancing on my clothes was enjoying my inability to escape or as a matter of fact, do anything. The sheer pain was making my mind foggy, my thoughts were clogged and even the smallest tug on my skin was somehow registered. I wanted to pass out but it wasn't permitting me to do that either. The dreadful smell of flesh burning was driving me crazy. Slowly, the fire was engulfing everything, my body, my clothes, my senses, and finally my will to live.
"Gandhari!! Stay conscious, we are going to get out of this." I heard the voice of the person for whom I had spent my whole life, he was my joy, my love, and also my sorrow. He was, is, and will always remain my everything. Wrapping his arms around my waist and whispering gently into my ears he mumbled again, "We are going to get past this."
I heard a sob escaping Kunti's lips who was standing near us but I was too occupied focusing on my husband in the last moments of my life. Just me and him, a dream that I was unable to achieve in my life. My knees gave up and fell on the ground, the crunch of dry leaves next to me indicated he sat down to support me. The pain of being engulfed by the flames, the pain of burning alive was traumatizing but I cared about it in the very least as finally, my husband was there, there for me, there for Gandhari not the mother of his children or queen of Hastinapur. I pressed my head on his chest. His irregular heartbeat due to smoke and worry was melodious to me as if someone was playing some sort of beautiful musical piece or perhaps a lullaby to nudge me towards the calming embrace of death. Albeit, it was laced with agony but the comfort of his presence was gladdening, relieving to some extent.
He continued to croon things about escaping and having a beautiful life ahead but that was not what I wanted to hear, at least not at the moment. My hands were feeling sore but I still managed to raise them and put a finger on his lips. I could have never imagined doing this bold move but in the end, I want to cherish every moment I had for him. I gave a small smile to him and said
"It's okay Arya Putra..... at least we are... together." I coughed out, trying to calm him.
"No Gandhari, not yet." He tried to convince me but all my will had depleted now. The death of our sons has taken a huge toll on me as well as on him, but he always tries to put on a façade. He had always been like this, a child who built a wall around him which is hard to climb but once you cross that you would see him, scared, curled up, who is just looking for a little safety and a little care.
"Aryaputra, it is now over. We have nothing to live for." I said the whole sentence trying not to cough in between. The smoke was affecting my ability to speak. The anguish of blazes on the body was searing through my abdomen as if someone was branding me. Without meaning it, I curled into a fetal position, tears dripping from my eyes and soaking the strip. It is the same strip that gave me an identity to me, the one that became my sacrifice and the source of my pain. In my last moments, he was accompanying me.
