I
swore fealty,
To the crown prince of this land.
Till the end of time.
I detest Hastinapur
however I wonder why.....?
Is it because 'tis
the birthing ground of the 'me'
who flickers amidst
existences? The son of
a charioteer? Royalty?
A
place where my pride
was shattered.... where mockery
reached my ears.... where I
was forced to select friends and
honour over family...
The
town which saw the
full view of my ugliness…
That same sin which set
my fate in stone.... which soiled the
specks of dignity in me.
The
kingdom which left
me awe-struck at the beauty
of the pitiful
tears of my mother; lovely
but shallow, unkind.
I
set out to the
battlefield; cursing this land,
Its many turrets,
Pillars, pathways, and walls; all
draped in shadows of red blood.
The
city which chained
my fate to redemption on
the war-fronts.... there, my
chivalry shall be tested-
Vows, valour put to question...
Yet,
yet... a small smile
tugs at my lips; how could I
forget the gesture
of my beloved friend; he
who shielded me from..... who knows....?
......Possibly....
that which
is identity crisis...?
How could I not bring
to mind that winning grin my
friend displayed in the dark hours?
Perhaps....
this land isn't
so bad after all.... I sought
my place..., desperate....
in this world, and was given
just that, HERE.... by Duryodhana!
Author’s note:
Mahabharata, in my opinion, provides us with a cross-section of every sort of breach in decency while bringing out the very best in each of the characters. I do not see the battle of the Kurukshetra as a conflict between good and evil. It is, for me, a battle in which both the sides are trying to assert their superiority with their own brand of 'righteousness'. After all, a war doesn't take place with one side’s knowledge of itself as evil. Wars take place because both sides believe they're just.
