Mahabharat: Shiva's Last Variable

(A/N):

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After spending some time at the Shiva temple,

Dhritarashtra and Madri eventually returned to the royal palace with their children.

The Kauravas were still talking among themselves about the story they had heard about Devara dancing with Mahadev and Goddess Parvati, each of them trying to imagine what that moment must have looked like.

Later, Dhritarashtra found himself sitting with Devara in one of the quieter sections of the royal gardens.

The garden was away from the main palace, where the noise of the visiting families and servants was barely audible, allowing the two men to speak without being disturbed.

Devara had been noticing something about Dhritarashtra ever since his arrival.

He knew about the additional sight Dhritarashtra had gained through his penance, the third and fourth eyes that had granted him abilities far beyond ordinary human perception.

Yet despite possessing such a gift, Dhritarashtra rarely seemed willing to use it.

At first, Devara had assumed that he simply preferred not to rely upon it.

But after watching him for some time, Devara realized there was something more behind it.

Eventually, while the two were speaking about the journey and the kingdom, Devara brought up the subject.

"King Dhritarshtra, may I ask you something?"

Dhritarashtra turned slightly toward him.

"Of course."

"I have noticed that you don’t often use the additional sight you gained through your penance."

Dhritarashtra became quiet.

Devara continued carefully.

"You have that ability for a reason, but whenever you use it, you seem uncomfortable afterward. Is there something wrong?"

For several moments, Dhritarashtra didn’t answer.

His hands slowly tightened against the armrest of his chair.

Finally, he released a long breath.

"There is a reason I avoid using it."

Devara waited patiently.

Dhritarashtra lowered his head slightly.

"Ever since my childrens were borned, I have been seeing the same dream again and again."

Devara’s expression became serious.

"What dream?"

Dhritarashtra remained silent for a moment before answering.

"Hastinapur."

His voice became heavier.

"I see Hastinapur burning."

Devara didn’t interrupt.

"I see the palace reduced to ruins. I see the streets filled with smoke and fire, and I hear people screaming. The banners of the Kuru dynasty are lying on the ground, burning along with everything we built."

His fingers tightened again.

"And then I see our family."

Devara listened carefully.

"I see the Kuru lineage destroyed before my eyes. I see people I know lying dead. I see the children of our family fighting one another, and somehow, no matter what I try to do, I cannot stop it."

Dhritarashtra’s voice cracked slightly.

"That is the worst part."

He turned his face toward Devara.

"I am there, watching everything happen, but I cannot change anything."

Devara remained silent.

Dhritarashtra continued after a moment.

"At first, I thought it was simply a nightmare. But then I began noticing something."

"What?"

"The visions became stronger whenever I used the sight I received through my penance."

Devara frowned hearing it.

"So you believe the visions are connected to it?"

"I don’t know."

Dhritarashtra shook his head.

"That is what frightens me."

He looked toward the garden.

"Sometimes I wonder whether Mahadev gave me that sight so that I could see something that was already destined to happen. Perhaps I wasn’t given those eyes merely to see what is happening around me."

His voice became quieter.

"Perhaps I was given them to see the future."

Devara’s expression hardened slightly.

Dhritarashtra continued.

"And if that is true, then what I have been seeing may not simply be a nightmare. It may be a warning."

He lowered his head.

"Every time I use those eyes, those images come back. Hastinapur burning. Our family being destroyed. The Kuru lineage ending before me. I know I shouldn’t allow a dream to control me, but after seeing it so many times, how am I supposed to simply forget it?"

Devara looked at him for a long moment.

"So you stopped using the sight."

Dhritarashtra nodded.

"I thought if I stopped looking, perhaps the visions would stop haunting me."

"And have they?"

Dhritarashtra gave a tired smile.

"No."

He looked down at his hands.

"They still come."

For a while, neither man spoke.

The garden remained peaceful around them, completely different from the burning Hastinapur Dhritarashtra had described.

Finally, Devara spoke quietly.

"King Dhritarashtra, I understand why you are afraid."

Dhritarashtra looked toward him.

"But don’t assume that seeing something means you are powerless to prevent it."

Dhritarashtra remained silent.

Devara continued.

"Perhaps what you saw is the future. Perhaps it is only one possibility. Perhaps it is a warning meant to show you what could happen if certain choices are made. Until you know which one it is, you shouldn’t allow the vision to decide your life for you."

Dhritarashtra slowly nodded, though the worry in his expression remained.

Devara looked toward the palace where the children were staying.

"You have a family here. You have people who trust you. If there is truly a danger waiting for the Kuru lineage, then we should find out what it is rather than allowing fear to keep you from using a gift that might help you protect them."

Dhritarashtra was quiet for a long time.

He knew Devara was right.

But somewhere deep inside him, the image of Hastinapur burning still remained.

And that vision had begun to feel far too real to simply dismiss as a nightmare.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the royal gardens,

Far enough from where Devara and Dhritarashtra were speaking that their conversation could not be heard, the women of the royal family had gathered beneath the shade of a large flowering tree.

Gandhari was seated comfortably with Kunti beside her, while Queen Madri, Rajmata Satyavati and Devara’s other wives had joined them.

The atmosphere was much lighter than the serious conversation taking place elsewhere in the garden, with the women enjoying the rare opportunity to sit together without having to worry about court matters.

Their attention had gradually turned toward Kunti, who had spent the last several years living away from the comforts of royal life.

"You have to tell us what those years were actually like,"

one of Devara’s wives said, clearly curious.

"We have heard so many different stories about life in the forest, but most of them come from people who were never there."

Kunti smiled faintly.

"There wasn’t anything particularly grand about it. It was simply our life."

Madri looked at her with sympathy.

"You lived there with Pandu and the children for all those years. It couldn’t have been easy."

Kunti’s expression became quieter.

"It wasn’t always easy, but after some time, you stop thinking about what you have left behind. The forest becomes your home."

Gandhari listened carefully.

"What did you do all day?"

Kunti laughed softly.

"What do you think? I had five children to look after."

That immediately made several of the women laugh.

"That alone sounds harder than ruling a kingdom," Lata remarked.

Kunti smiled.

"It sometimes felt that way."

She began telling them about their daily life in the mountains, the small hut they had shared, the way the children would disappear into the surrounding forest whenever they were allowed to play and how she would have to call them back before they wandered too far.

Bhima, naturally, had always been the most difficult to keep track of.

"He was forever hungry,"

Kunti said, shaking her head with an amused expression.

"If I cooked enough food for everyone, I could be almost certain that Bhima would somehow finish his share and then start looking around to see whether anyone had left something behind."

Gandhari laughed hearing her.

"Even now,"

Kunti replied.

Madri smiled as she listened.

"And Yudhishthira?"

"He was different. Even as a child, he was always trying to understand why something was right or wrong before doing it. Sometimes I felt as though I was speaking to someone much older."

Satyavati listened with interest.

"And Arjuna?"

Kunti’s face softened.

"Arjuna was always curious. He wanted to know how everything worked. If he saw someone doing something with a bow, he would stand there watching until he understood every movement."

She then continued talking about Nakula and Sahadeva, explaining how different the two boys were despite being twins.

Nakula had always been drawn toward animals and cared greatly about his appearance even as a child, while Sahadeva had a quiet nature and spent more time observing than speaking.

The women listened with growing affection, occasionally interrupting with questions.

Kunti spoke about the simple meals they prepared, collecting fruits and herbs, gathering firewood, the children learning from sages who occasionally visited the mountains and the quiet evenings when the family would sit together outside their hut.

There was sadness in some of her memories, particularly when she spoke about Pandu, but there was also warmth.

"It wasn’t the life I imagined when I was young, But there were peaceful moments. Pandu loved being away from the court. He felt free there."

Gandhari gently touched Kunti’s hand.

"I am glad you have those memories."

Kunti nodded her head.

Satyavati watched the two younger women for a moment before speaking.

"You have both lived very different lives. Gandhari came to Trivenivrata and built a new home here, while you spent years in the mountains raising your sons. Yet somehow, both of you ended up sitting together in the same palace."

Kunti smiled.

"Life has a strange way of arranging things."

Gandhari looked down at her stomach and smiled.

"And now we are both waiting for the next generation."

That brought another round of smiles from the women.

For a while, the conversation continued naturally, moving from Kunti’s life in the forest to the children’s childhood stories, then to Gandhari’s pregnancy and the preparations already being made for the coming months.

It was an unusual gathering, bringing together women from different parts of the Kuru and Gandhara families, yet there was little of the formality one would normally expect from a royal court.

For that afternoon, they were simply mothers, daughters, sisters and wives sharing stories while enjoying the rare peace of the royal garden.

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(Author note:)

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