tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40720641687677697192024-03-13T11:55:02.017-07:00ReflectionsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-79014158327765897182020-07-10T08:54:00.000-07:002020-07-10T08:54:05.556-07:00GOOD NEWS!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Pradyutita made it to the semi finals of SPFBO!! So freaking happy!!<br />
<br />
Got an amazing review that you can read <a href="https://fantasybookcritic.blogspot.com/2020/07/spfbo-second-diminution-semifinalist.html" target="_blank">here</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-28586271189433141502019-10-23T09:14:00.002-07:002019-10-23T09:15:44.488-07:00Fragments from a shattered Image: Fragment 14<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Kripa
welcomed Drona with open arms. Kripi too was happy to be with her
brother, in the land where she grew up. Drona tamped down on the
resentment he felt as he saw Kripa's house. How fortunate Kripa was!
He was all but adopted by the King and was now the Guru to princes.
He lived in luxury.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">In
contrast, he, Drona, spent his days in stark poverty. In spite of
being superior to Kripa in both knowledge of weaponry and in skills,
he was in the position of having to depend on his brother-in-law! It
was galling.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Aswathama
showed no visible enthusiasm for the changed surroundings. But he was
grown now. The years that Drona spent with Parasurama seemed to have
driven a wedge between him and his only son. Aswathama was a stranger
to him now. But Drona was too caught up in his own plans to notice
that.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Drona
was resolved to change his situation. He would become the guru to the
princes. And he knew Kripa well enough to know that he would not
mind. He might even be glad.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br /></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-45128621115747626702019-10-11T08:42:00.001-07:002019-10-11T08:42:53.760-07:00Fragments of a Shattered Image: Fragment Thirteen<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The palace of Panchala was too big.
Drona had to crane his neck to see the standard of the King that flew
from the ramparts of the surrounding fortress. The palace was nestled
inside, a building that seemed to occupy as much space as his entire
village.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The
palace was built almost entirely of stone that had been polished so
much that it shone like gems. Beautiful gardens surrounded it. The
path leading to the palace was flanked with shady trees. The path was
crowded just then, full of people going to meet the King's ministers
or the council and to submit their grievances. Drona felt superior to
them.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The guards looked at him with
contemptuous sneers, but he did not mind that. He was above all that.
He was the King's own friend. He chuckled inwardly as he thought of
the expression on these guards' faces when Drupada would embrace him
as a friend. Of course, he would tell Drupada he did not need half
the kingdom. Revenue from one or two villages would be enough. And
with the knowledge acquired from Parasurama, he could start a
Gurukula where he could train Kshatriya princes. He would become
famous all over the world as a teacher par excellence.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He was asked to wait a while when he
said his business was with the King. He did not mind waiting. He
refused to give his name to the heralds. He would go in unannounced,
like an unknown Brahmana. How surprised his friend would be! He would
probably jump up from the throne and come to embrace him!</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He smiled to himself as a courtier
beckoned him forward. The hall was very long and he paid no heed to
the condescending, pitying or sneering glances by those who were
seated there. He felt no shame about his patched clothes or beggarly
appearance. He was in his friend's presence!</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drupada gave him a disinterested
glance.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Speak, Brahmana," said
he, politely. "What do you wish from me?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drona smiled widely. "My
friend," said he, "I am Drona. Do you not recognize me?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drupada's gaze turned cold.
"Friend?" His voice was like a whiplash. "How is it
possible for there to be friendship between one such as you and one
such as me? Friendship is possible only between equals. Do you not
know this yet, Brahmana? Now tell what it is you desire! I have
weightier matters to attend to!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drona
stared at his friend, stunned. Was Drupada serious? Was he testing
him, perhaps? How could he speak so to him?</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"But," he stammered,
confused now. "We were in the Gurukula together! You said you
would give me half the kingdom when you become King..." His
voice trailed off as he saw Drupada's gaze becoming fiery.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"For uttering such words,"
spoke the King, "I ought to throw you in prison! Had you been of
any caste but a Brahmana, I would have you beheaded for that!"
Drupada controlled himself with an effort. "However, I am
generous. I forgive you. If you require alms, state it. I shall be
happy to provide such!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drona felt his face burning. Blood
was pounding in his ears. Unbidden, came to his mind the mantra to
invoke the most destructive weapon he knew, but he thrust it away. He
could destroy this entire kingdom if he so wished, but that was no
fitting punishment for the arrogance of Drupada.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I do not come as a beggar!"
Said he. "I come as a friend and you have seen fit to insult me!
So be it, Drupada! But a day shall surely come when you shall be too
glad to accept my hand in friendship!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
turned around and walked away, trying to ignore the guffaws by the
courtiers. He would show them! The outline of a plan began to form in
his mind. But he needed a powerful patron. And students. And not just
any students. Kshatriya students.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The
solution came to him just as he was crossing the threshold of
Drupada's palace. Hastinapura! His brother-in-law, Kripa was the
teacher of the princes of that kingdom.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">His eyes were blazing with joy as he
left Panchala.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-52757300673731017052019-10-02T09:21:00.000-07:002019-10-02T09:21:19.334-07:00Fragments from a Shattered Image: Fragment Twelve<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drona was panting by the time he
reached the abode of Parasurama. It was the rumours that sped him
hence. He had heard that the warrior sage was giving away the wealth
he had amassed over his life time to Brahmanas. And he had come there
in the hopes of getting something, at least a cow or two. His face
twisted as he thought of his abortive attempts to gain a cow till
then. No one in their part of Bhatatavarsha seemed able to gift a
poor Brahmana with a cow. All were too poor! His lips curled in
contempt. The advent of Kali was too near if this was how Brahmanas
were treated!</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
wiped the sweat of his brow, catching his breath. The area was quite
deserted. He wondered if he'd been hoaxed. Surely, if the sage was
giving away his possessions, there ought to be a crowd of Brahmanas
there? Had he been made a fool of?</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Just then, a man came out of the
hut. Even though Drona had only heard tales of the great sage, he
could recognize him. The warrior-like stance, the scars on his arm,
the fierce gaze, all told him that he was in the presence of the
great Parasurama himself. He hurried to the sage and greeted him with
folded palms.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I am a poor Brahmana,"
said he. "Drona, the son of Bharadwaja. I have come on hearing
that you are giving away your possessions. Please do not send me away
empty-handed!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">A
shadow crossed the serene face of the sage. The fierce eyes became
sad.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"You have heard right, O Drona.
But you have come too late. I have no possessions left in the world
now."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Disappointment,
starker than anything he'd known before filled Drona's heart. There
was a bitter taste in his mouth.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"However," the sage
continued. "I cannot send you away empty handed. Therefore I
offer you to choose between the only two possessions I have left in
this world: my life or my knowledge of weapons. I have nothing else
to give you."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Knowledge
of weapons? Drona had never aspired to that. He knew enough of
warfare to impart basic training to any student who might come to
him. But what Parasurama offered went beyond that. It was knowledge,
the likes of which, he had never even dreamed of. The sage was the
student of Lord Siva himself. The knowledge he could give was going
to ensure that Drona would be unique. His skills and knowledge would
be coveted. He would be sought after by all.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He bowed low, "Accept me as
your pupil, O great one, and impart to me your knowledge of weapons."</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-14048986758152200242019-09-19T09:21:00.000-07:002019-09-19T09:21:57.557-07:00Fragments of a Shattered Image: Fragment Eleven<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The
Brahmana was young, but not youthful. He was of medium height, and in
spite of his young age, his hair and beard were shot with grey. He
was thin, though not emaciated.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">His clothes were simple and
patched in many places. The bundle he was carrying was also in a
similar condition. He clutched it in one hand, the other held a
begging bowl, which was half full of rice. The bundle held the
vegetables and fruits he received in alms.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">As
he turned the corner, he could hear the loud laughter of the
children. He smiled to himself as his steps quickened almost
automatically. He could distinguish the laughter of his own son,
Aswathama. Soon, the children came into sight. Aswathama came running
to him.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Father!" He cried in
delight. "Father, I drank milk today! I drank milk!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The suppressed giggles of the older
children were not lost on the Brahmana. He looked at his young son
with affection as he transferred the bundle to his shoulder and the
bowl to the hand holding the bundle. Then he stooped down and picked
up his son, carrying him in the other arm.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Tell me all about it,"
said he, forcing a smile and feigning an enthusiasm he did not feel.
He could hear the loud snickers of the older children, but he ignored
them. The mocking glances sent his way confirmed his suspicion that
his son had been made the butt of a practical joke, but he did not
want to dampen his child's joy or his enthusiasm.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">As he entered his small one room
hut, his sharp ears caught a whisper one of the children, "The
learned Drona's son can't even tell the difference between milk and
water mixed with powdered rice!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He felt his face burning and his
hand clenched tightly on his bowl. Aswathama who was chattering away
about how tasty the 'milk' he drank, was oblivious of his father's
turmoil till then.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Father," said he, "it
pains,"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Drona noticed then that he was
holding his son in a vice like grip too. He relaxed his grip, and put
down the child.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I didn't want you to fall,"
said he, putting the bowl and the bundle down and rubbing the boy's
midriff gently.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Kripi came in just then, bringing
water for him to wash his hands and feet.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">That night, after Aswathama had
slept, Drona told his wife that he was leaving.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I see no benefit in the life
we are leading now," he told her. "I shall go out into the
world and make my fortune. My friend Drupada will surely help me."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Kripi kept her eyes lowered and
Drona failed to see the anguish in them. He was too lost in what had
happened that day to pay attention to her.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-88965412833488881122019-09-11T09:28:00.000-07:002019-09-11T09:28:37.767-07:00Fragments of a Shattered Image: Fragment 10<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
came to, slowly, opening his eyes with difficulty. Everything
appeared blurred. He was feeling disoriented and groggy, not feeling
as he normally did. He also felt weak. There was a roaring in his
ears. He tried to move and found something was restraining him. He
was cold too and he shivered.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Slowly
his vision cleared. He found he was lying on a grassy bank by a
river. Some wild looking men with snake symbols tattooed on their
bodies were standing around him. He was bound by cords.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He strained and the cords snapped.
He tried to get up. One of the men pointed a spear at him and he
swatted it aside. The man laughed and extended it again. He realized
the man was trying to help him up. He caught hold of it and the man
pulled him up.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He stood there looking around in
confusion. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
“<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Where
am I?" He asked, his voice a hoarse rasp.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He was a boy and yet he was taller
than most men. His face was beautiful, not unlike most children of
his age, but now his face reflected bewilderment as he looked at the
strangers.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The men too looked at each other in
confusion. Then there was a commotion. The men bowed low as they
parted way for an old man to come through. He was wrinkled and old.
The image of a snake with raised hood was tattooed across his entire
body giving him the appearance of a snake.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The man stood before him. "Who
are you child, to venture into the land of the Nagas?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He swallowed, hiding his fear and
confusion behind bravado as he stood straight and answered, looking
the man in the eye. "I am Bheemasena, son of Pandu and Kunti,
the Prince of Hastinapura."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Son of Kunti," murmured
the old man. "Your mother is related to the Nagas by blood,
though the relation has been forgotten by both our families. Vasuki,
the King of the Naga people welcomes you to this land."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He turned to the others and said
something in another language. The men broke into words in the same
language. Vasuki's next words were sharp and the men said something
in an emphatic tone. Vasuki turned back to Bheema, his face grim.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"You had been drugged and
thrown to the river according to my men. You had also been bound with
cords." He paused. "My men rescued you, not without
difficulty, as you were fighting them in your unconscious state."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He sounded pleased and proud though
Bheema felt abashed. But he was also angry. It did not take him much
reflection to piece together what must have happened. It was obvious
that his cousin had attempted to kill him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>Watch
out Suyodhana! </i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
thought. </span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>I am coming for
you!</i></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">His hands had clenched into fists
and his face was grim.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Vasuki looked at him with a smile.
"Come, my child." He said. "You rest for today. I
shall arrange for your return to Hastinapura soon."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Bheema
lived with the tribe of Nagas for some time. He was too weak to
return yet, Vasuki told him. Though he felt fine, he accepted the old
man's argument. It was better to let Suyodhana think that he had
succeeded. Bheema chuckled to himself thinking of the expression on
his cousin's face when he would walk in.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Of course, thought he, Suyodhana
won't have too much opportunity to be surprised. For Bheema was going
to pound him to the floor as soon as he reached. He would break every
limb of that loser.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The food was one added reason that
tempted him to remain. It was the best he had ever tasted. The spices
and condiments and herbs that the Nagas used were completely unknown
to the cooks at Hastinapura. And the drink that they gave him every
night after the meal tasted like nectar.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"It is a Naga medicine for
restoring health," Vasuki told him. All Bheema could think was
if all medicines tasted so good, he for one, would not mind being
sick.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The Nagas also taught him how to row
a boat and to make loops from rope. In the little time he had, he
mastered the basics of whatever they taught him. He also haunted the
kitchens often enough that the cooks too took to teaching them their
way of cooking.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">One
day, Vasuki came to him and told him that one of his men will take
him to Hastinapura.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> </span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"He will take you to the palace
where your mother and brothers are," he said. "Do not
confront anyone till you have met with them. I have informed your
mother that you are safe in my care. But it is for you to apprise her
of how you came here."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 0; widows: 0;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Bheema nodded. Pounding Suyodhana
could wait after meeting with his mother. He could wait. He had time.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-65075757676999076362019-09-08T08:41:00.000-07:002019-09-08T08:41:00.157-07:00Fragments of a Shattered Image: Fragment 9<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya
sat down on a couch. Her limbs ached.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">'I'm growing old,' she thought. But
that was only to be expected. She grew more tired but less sleepy.
She also felt less hungry these days, though her memory was still
sharp.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>Small
mercies,</i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> thought Satya.
</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>Small mercies</i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She sighed. Her tiredness and
physical aches were less than the grief of her heart. The last rites
of her grandson was over. His five sons were so small. She wondered
if her step son and grandson would care for those.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had no energy left to worry for
them now.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She looked up as her son was
announced.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Krishna," she smiled at
him. He was called Vyasa by all these days, Veda Vyasa. But to her he
would always be Krishna.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Mother," he bent down to
touch her feet.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Ayushman
bhavah" she blessed him.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Mother," he said as he
sat down next to her on her invitation. "It is time you left the
palace. It is time for you to leave the world behind."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She gazed at him. He was right of
course. She should leave for the forest. It was the way of things, of
life.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She sighed again. She had buried her
husband, two sons and now a grandson. She did not want to watch more
deaths. Her son was right. She should leave.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She
gave him a faint smile and nodded.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"It is time," she echoed.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-38421617899586278372019-03-23T22:48:00.000-07:002019-03-23T22:48:32.195-07:00Movie Review: Evening Shadows<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RCpHoh__43M/XJcZQvT9AuI/AAAAAAAA4BE/94YYLUPAUyIMP0ePnolNXIp4Sb0rLZbXwCLcBGAs/s1600/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="180" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RCpHoh__43M/XJcZQvT9AuI/AAAAAAAA4BE/94YYLUPAUyIMP0ePnolNXIp4Sb0rLZbXwCLcBGAs/s320/maxresdefault.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Sridhar Rangyan is
known for his championing of LGBT+ rights and his movies depicting
the challenges faced by the community in India where, till recently,
homosexuality was a crime. His latest offering, Evening Shadows is a
coming out story. But more than that, it is the story of a bond
between a mother and her son and how she struggles to come to terms
with the revelation that her only son is gay.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gBAUU_0pYvA/XJcZk9JmO1I/AAAAAAAA4BQ/3TIPDpiHHUsMb_5T4iKIMnE05_qTTrwMQCLcBGAs/s1600/23434797_360650064381596_391570014489356087_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gBAUU_0pYvA/XJcZk9JmO1I/AAAAAAAA4BQ/3TIPDpiHHUsMb_5T4iKIMnE05_qTTrwMQCLcBGAs/s320/23434797_360650064381596_391570014489356087_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The film is set in a
conservative small town family in South India with Damodar (Ananth
Mahadevan), a tyrannical father who believes that homosexuality is
against Indian culture, values and ethics,;Vasudha (Mona
Ambegaonkar), the mother who is the typical Indian housewife, one who
obeys her husband, and whose life revolves around taking care of her
family and their gay son Kartik (Devansh Doshi) who is a photographer
in Mumbai and is in a committed relationship with another man, but
hasn’t told his parents yet. They think Aman is his roommate.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c25DvtcPeGE/XJcZZwIuY2I/AAAAAAAA4BI/zeuN0WsriSU8uqZJKnO9IaYgC4mP0ApmQCLcBGAs/s1600/21766743_344901402623129_7560129740347687530_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="630" data-original-width="754" height="267" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c25DvtcPeGE/XJcZZwIuY2I/AAAAAAAA4BI/zeuN0WsriSU8uqZJKnO9IaYgC4mP0ApmQCLcBGAs/s320/21766743_344901402623129_7560129740347687530_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
In the backdrop is
the aunt, Sarita (Yamini Singh) who has left her abusive husband and
is crticised by Kartik’s father for her inability to manage her own
life and marriage when she attempts to advise him not to force Kartik
into marriage; the uncle Ramesh (Abhay Kulkarni), a closeted
homosexual who has married to satisfy his family, and who had
sexually abused Kartik in childhood, and who still seems to have a
thing for his handsome nephew; Aman (Arpit Chaudhary) whose mother
has not talked to him since the day he came out to her; and there is
the 2013 SC judgement which reinstated section 377 overturning the
Delhi HC verdict. In view of the recent SC judgement declaring
section 377 as unconstitutional, the 2013 verdict is now moot, but
the reactions of Kartik and Aman to the judgement and Kartk’s fears
on how it will make it even more difficult for his mother to accept
his reality are all brought out well.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The film does seem
to border on propaganda at times, but considering its theme, that’s
only natural. The propaganda part is not “the-in-your-face” kind,
but subtle and is incorporated naturally into the dialogues. The bond
between Kartik and his mother is natural and easy and both actors
have done an amazing job in their roles. Though some of the changes
in Vasudha does seem based on the ideal rather than the real, her
acceptance and support of Kartik in the end leaves no one
unsurprised. As she tells her husband, whatever or whoever Kartik is,
he is hers. If only more mothers had as much strength to stand up for
their children!</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Kartik’s relation
with Aman is mostly phone calls to and from, but the audience is left
in no doubt about the depth of their feelings for each other or of
how committed they are to each other. They support each other, and
have plans to grow old together. They are a cute couple in the only
scene we get to see them together. Both Devansh Doshi and Arpit
Chaudhary are excellent in their roles.</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cohcocxc4GA/XJcZwS0DPcI/AAAAAAAA4BY/0-oS64uhRIcLx_UOwxfn0buf5km4ECfQQCLcBGAs/s1600/20728221_328675407579062_2644853453847485482_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cohcocxc4GA/XJcZwS0DPcI/AAAAAAAA4BY/0-oS64uhRIcLx_UOwxfn0buf5km4ECfQQCLcBGAs/s320/20728221_328675407579062_2644853453847485482_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Ananth Mahadevan as
the ultra conservative Damodar who kicks out Kartik and performs his
funeral rites has also rendered a noteworthy performance and the
supporting cast are also good, but the star of the movie is
undoubtedly Mona Ambegaonkar who is simply stellar as Vasudha.
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Evening Shadows is
heartwarming and beautiful. It is more than a film about
homosexuality – it is about the bond between a mother and a child,
and how that bond is capable of withstanding even things beyond the
mother’s comprehension. As Vasudha tells Kartik towards the end,
she may never comprehend homosexuality, but she will always accept
and support him. And ultimately, what more can anyone ask for? This
is a movie that’s definitely worth watching whether you are gay or
not, whether you support LGBT+ rights or not, because the themes
depicted are universal, the struggle for acceptance in a world that’s
too eager to tell people who they should be and is too quick to judge
them for being different.
</div>
<br /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HQcxb76OqF8/XJcZ5VpCJtI/AAAAAAAA4Bg/D0QRlw6fC-ULjM5tZ2RLe5QaH-pXg6KXACLcBGAs/s1600/50064319_574175776362356_7735797332062502912_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-HQcxb76OqF8/XJcZ5VpCJtI/AAAAAAAA4Bg/D0QRlw6fC-ULjM5tZ2RLe5QaH-pXg6KXACLcBGAs/s320/50064319_574175776362356_7735797332062502912_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-80590716749707091932019-03-10T07:24:00.000-07:002019-03-10T07:24:15.020-07:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 8<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu
found the burden of his heart only increasing. The days passed in
affairs of the state but the nights were nightmares. His wives were
patient and understanding, neither uttering even a sound of reproach.
He wished they would at least shed a few tears. But they kept smiling
as if his impotence did not cause them any heartburn.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Their
attitude only made him feel worse, not better. No one spoke a word,
but he felt the crushing weight of their expectations. The bards sang
his praises, the citizens extolled his greatness and all it served
was to remind him of what an utter failure he was. His whole life
seemed meaningless and futile.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
left on a Dig Vijaya. It was an escape, he knew, but he did not want
to be in the palace anymore. He did not want to be in the proximity
of the two women who had chosen to share their lives with him and to
whom he had been unable to give anything. He did not want to wait for
the inevitable question of when he was going to give an heir to his
Kingdom. He did not want anyone to know that he was unable to do what
even a mindless beast was able to.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">So
he went to war. And he vented all his anger, all his frustration in
the battlefield. He had been ruthless, trampling his enemies to dust.
He was not satisfied with defeating; he had to destroy.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">For,
in the battlefield, he could fool the world that he was a man.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
enjoyed the battlefields; he reveled in the trumpet of elephants, the
neighing of horses, the clanging of swords, the twanging of
bowstrings, the whoosh of the arrows and spears. He rejoiced at the
smell of blood intermingled with that of sweat, metal and the
excrements of men and beasts. He laughed at the carrion birds
circling high above, waiting for the day’s battle to end.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">At
the end of one day’s battle, he came upon one of his soldiers,
retching by the side of a tent. He was a young man and it was evident
that it was his first campaign.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The
young man was embarrassed by his weakness and had mumbled an apology.
But Pandu was staring at where the soldier had emptied the contents
of his stomach on to the grass.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
had done the same on his first campaign. He had never imagined that a
battlefield could be a place of such brutality, where men turned into
killing machines, where life had no sanctity, no value. His uncle had
placed a hand on his shoulder and had told him. “Do not be ashamed
of the horror you feel. It is not your weakness, but your strength.
We are Kshatriyas and we cannot shun warfare. But the day we lose our
compassion for those we kill, the day we stop being horrified at the
brutality of our acts, that day we lose our humanity and Dharma as
well.”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu
looked around him with sightless eyes. What had he been reduced to!
What monster it was he had become!</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
had come to escape, to prove himself a man by ruthlessly destroying
his enemies. But all he had proved was that he had become a monster.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">And
he returned, smiling outwards, but chagrined inside. All the wealth
he had conquered, he had placed at his brother’s feet. His brother
who should have been King if he had not been born blind; his brother
who would have been a better ruler, who would not have reveled in the
fearful screams of his enemies. His brother who wanted to be King,
who resented him for stealing his birthright.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The
decision to leave the palace for the forest had been taken on that
day. The day of his return. He told everyone he was going on a
hunting trip to the forest with his wives. No one objected. After
all, they had had so little time together.</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">His
wives suspected something. Kunti it was who asked him, “Swami, why
are we here?”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
drew a deep breath. “I am abdicating the throne Kunti,” he said
calmly. “I am not worthy to be King. I am not going back,”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">And
what reason would you give your people? Your elders?”</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">I
killed a couple of deer today,” he said. “I’m going to tell
everyone that it was a sage and his wife sporting in the form of
deers, and that they cursed me to fall dead if I ever touch a woman
in desire again!”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Convenient,”
Kunti observed. “It resolves all your difficulties. But have you
spared a thought to us? Your presence in our lives is all we demand.
Is that too much to ask for?”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
looked at her. He had never loved her more than he did at that
moment.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">If
my presence is all you require,” he said. “Then you must
accompany me. God knows there isn’t much else I can give you!”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
“<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Don’t
speak like that!” Madri’s hand was over his mouth. “We do not
require anything more for our happiness!”</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
nodded. He was powerless to resist their demand.</span></span></span></span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-58835494713706474222019-02-28T22:56:00.000-08:002019-02-28T22:56:09.659-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 7<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu often felt stifled in the
palace. His grandmother was obsessed with the continuance of their
line. From his early childhood, Pandu could remember her
disproportionate fear if he or his brother caught so much as a cold.
If not for his uncle’s firm yet loving hand, Pandu and his brother
might have grown up without ever having set foot outside the palace.
His uncle was concerned about the succession, but he was not obsessed
with it.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu was told that his own father
had died childless, endangering their line and he and his brother
were the result of Niyoga. His grandmother told him the story so
often that Pandu felt like screaming. She had told him how his mother
and aunt had agreed to Niyoga, though it was repugnant to them. “It
was their duty,” she told him. “And they knew it.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Duty was the watchword by which he
grew. His duty to Hastinapura, to the Kurus, to the people. From
childhood Pandu knew that his duty was not just to be a Prince, but
to produce heirs to ensure continuance of the line. Being blind, his
brother was spared all those lectures on duty and succession. But
Pandu was not so lucky.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But though he wasn’t happy about
the constant harping on the importance of having heirs, he knew
better than to show it. Self-control and discipline were among the
first lessons his uncle had taught him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">A Kuru! A Bharata! He was not only
heir to the throne, but heir to the expectations inherent with the
post of King. And in his case, it was not enough that he become a
good King or an all-conquering one. He had to prove his virility too.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu knew his brother held him in
contempt. And he also knew that his brother coveted the throne. There
were times when he felt like telling his brother, “Take it and be
happy, and at least I can have a life that is mine!”</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He thought how ironic it was that
his brother who wanted the throne was denied it and he who was
apprehensive about his own worthiness, should be given it.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">What was worse was his brother knew
his deepest anxieties and fears. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Why
don’t you take one of the maids to bed?” Dhritarashtra asked him
one day. “You must be the only crown prince who’s still a
virgin!”</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He blushed deeply but did not
answer.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He did not go to any maids either.
His virginity was his wife’s. He would not despoil himself.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Then he won Kunti’s hand in the
Swayamvara. It had made him more relieved than happy. He would
finally be able to fulfill his obligations to Hastinapura by giving
it an heir. But- what a fiasco it was, his marriage night!</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He did not even look at her or speak
to her as he got dressed and stalked out of the room.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He drank himself to a stupor and did
not know when he fell asleep. In the morning, he woke with a
splitting headache and a guilty conscience. He rose from the couch on
which he had spent the night and went to her. Kunti was still asleep,
and his sense of shame and guilt increased as he saw the dried tear
tracks on her cheeks.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He sat down next to her. She was so
beautiful. What had been her fault anyway? To have chosen him? He had
been the one at fault. And yet, he had run off without a word,
demeaning her choice of him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He touched her cheek gently and she
woke.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Swami?”
She whispered and then her face clouded.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Kunti,”
he spoke softly. “I know I am at fault. Please forgive me.” He
paused. "I do not know why I ran off like that. I did not mean
to degrade you. You should never have chosen me, Kunti. You should
have chosen someone else.”</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
“<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Please
do not say that, Swami,” she had implored. “It does not matter. I
am your wife. I am strong enough for this,”</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But there was a shadow in her eyes
that told him that it mattered. It mattered a lot.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He did not try anything after that
night. He slept in the bed and she on the couch since she was adamant
that he should have the bed. But no matter how hard they tried to
keep it a secret, the servants and the spies took the news to his
uncle. What conclusions uncle Bheeshma drew, he did not know.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But a month after, his uncle
arranged a second marriage for him and got him married to the sister
of the Madra King.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Pandu had not objected. He was in
despair. But there was a part of him that was eager too, a part of
him that still hoped, that with another woman, perhaps he might
succeed. That part of him whispered to him that he was whole.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But after his second marriage, no
part of him had any doubts. It was his problem. His alone, and he
could not find a solution to it.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-88961275715944055102019-02-26T22:56:00.003-08:002019-02-26T22:56:44.561-08:00New Series in Channillo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Check out my new series in Channillo, and don't forget to leave a comment!!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://channillo.com/series/never-a-good-time/" target="_blank">Never a Good Time</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-73926356317712548512019-02-17T21:02:00.000-08:002019-02-17T21:02:47.701-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 6<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya could hardly contain her joy.
The two Princesses were beautiful and seemed quite docile. Unlike
their eldest sister. Satya wanted to forget the unpleasantness caused
by Amba. Vichitravirya's marriage was the perfect opportunity.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She smiled at her step son.
Bheeshma's expression was inscrutable, but she felt that he was just
as happy as she was.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She was grateful to Bheeshma for
procuring such excellent brides for his brother. With two young and
beautiful wives, her son would surely develop a sense of
responsibility.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">It was not long before all Satya's
relief and joy evaporated. Her son seemed to be interested only in
spending time with his wives. The affairs of state were left to be
managed by Bheeshma and herself.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had seen the worry on Bheeshma's
face and knew it was reflected on her face too. She was steadily
growing more anxious. But Vichitravirya seemed not to care.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Neither she nor Bheeshma could do
anything other than counsel him. And yet, their words seemed to have
no effect. Satya tried to get her daughters in law to counsel their
husband. But they were too docile and too much in love with him. If
they spoke, he overrode them with no difficulty.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya resolved that she would give
her son a piece of her mind. It would not be meet. But she was
Rajamata. And she had responsibilities.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She was on her way to her son's
apartments when the soldier came running. "Rajamata," he
gasped. "The King!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She ran the rest of the way, heart
hammering.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Rajayakshma," the
physician said, rising from the side of the bed where the lifeless
body of her son lay.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Bheeshma stood impassive. The queens
lay on the floor at the foot of the bed. They were beyond tears now.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya sat on the bed, stroking the
cold face of her son.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; page-break-before: always; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I am sorry mother," there
was a finality in Bheeshma's tone. "My vow is irrevocable."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya slumped in her seat. Her last
hope was gone. But she made one last attempt.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Do it for Hastinapura, for
your line,"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He shook his head. "I would die
for Hastinapura," he said. "But I would not break my vow."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Your death is of no benefit to
Hastinapura," her voice held a touch of asperity. And your life
is of no benefit too, she added silently. Not unless there was an
heir to the throne. Bheeshma had refused to be King yet again. And he
had also refused to impregnate his widowed sisters in law as per
custom.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Hastinapura needs a King. It
needs an heir."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I cannot provide that heir.
But I can tell you how an heir may be possible."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She looked up at his words, hope
fluttering in her breast.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"When my Guru, the great sage
Parasurama, purged the earth of Kshatriyas, all the Kshatriya lines
faced a similar problem. But the women were advised to approach sages
or Brahmanas to impregnate them through the custom of Niyoga. Thus it
was the Kshatriya lines were continued." He paused. "If
you, mother, can think of a suitable sage or Brahmana, we may
approach him for Niyoga on my sisters."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Vyasa," she said. "My
son, Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">And she told him about how her
Krishna had come to be born.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"We
are truly fortunate that such an illustrious sage is to propagate our
dynasty," Bheeshma said.</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Send word to him
immediately, mother. Let us not waste any more time."</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She sent for him, and he came, just
as he had promised her. He had changed, she saw. His austerities had
made him darker, thinner and his hair was now matted. He had never
been very tall and next to Bheeshma, he really looked short.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He had agreed but insisted that her
daughters in law should do austerities for a year. But Satya was in a
hurry. She was not prepared to wait.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Then, they will have to
embrace me as I am," he had said. "For I cannot clean my
body for them."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya had agreed. She would talk to
Ambika and Ambalika. They would understand. They had to. It was their
duty to Hastinapura and the Kurus.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">It was Ambika who received the sage.
But her son was born blind. Satyavati was distraught. What ill luck
it was that plagued the Kurus! How could a blind man be King! In
desperation, she sent for her son again.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Krishna agreed to go to Ambalika.
She too gave birth to a son. But he was unnaturally pale and seemed
weak.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya again sent for her son. On her
pleading he agreed to go to Ambika again. He came to Satya in the
morning.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"It was her handmaiden who
received me," he said. "You must ensure that her child is
given education befitting a prince too."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"But," Satya said, "You
cannot go. I will talk to Ambika."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"For a sage," he said.
"Being with a woman more than three times is forbidden. I am
sorry mother. I cannot help you any further."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The maid gave birth to a healthy,
beautiful baby, leaving Satya to reflect bitterly on the perfidy of
fate. But a part of her also rejoiced, for this child alone she could
claim as her Krishna's.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-39593010352499109172019-02-14T21:26:00.000-08:002019-02-14T21:26:01.461-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 5<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She watched with misty eyes, the
coronation of her youngest son. Vichitravirya was young, having just
turned sixteen. Yet, Bheeshma and the priests had deemed he was old
enough to assume his responsibilities as King.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Her worries should have been over,
but they were not. Vichitravirya had not been trained for Kingship.
He was indolent and pleasure loving and had been pampered too much.
Chitrangada had his brother’s firm but loving hand to guide him
throughout his life. Vichitravirya was left to her, and she had
indulged him too much.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">It was only after Chitrangada's
death that Bheeshma had started taking Vichitravirya to hand. And his
firmness had had its effect, but Satya worried that with Kingship
would come the disinclination to follow his brother's advice.
Bheeshma could advise, but no longer impose his will.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>We
should have waited</i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">, she
thought. </span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>We are being
hasty. We should have waited till he is more mature. Physical age
isn’t everything.</i></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"You are worried, mother?"
Bheeshma asked as he came near her. "You are frowning."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Yes, Bheeshma," she said.
"I fear he is too young. The power and authority may go to his
head. He is not duty bound to obey you or me any longer. We are duty
bound to obey him!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Bheeshma nodded. "You are
right. Maybe we should think of getting him married. Marriage will
teach him responsibilities, and if we choose wisely, his wife may be
able to guide him too."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya opened her mouth to say the
number of wives who guided their husbands were so few. But she did
not. Vichitravirya was so young. If he marries a woman slightly
older, she might try to guide him and he might actually listen to her
too.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"The King of Kasi has announced
the Swayamvara of his daughters," Bheeshma said. "The Kasi
Princesses would be suitable wives to the King of Hastinapura."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satyavati nodded. "What do you
propose? Vichitravirya has not been invited."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"No. The King of Kasi has
slighted us by not inviting us to the Swayamvara. I propose to go to
Kasi as my brother’s representative and win those princesses for
him. That would avenge our honour too."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She nodded. "May you be
victorious."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The blessing was only tradition.
Bheeshma was going to be victorious anyway.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-83700097102718312102019-02-12T07:40:00.000-08:002019-02-12T07:40:34.793-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 4<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Her eyes were dry now. She was past
tears. What more could fate have in store for her! First her husband
had died, leaving her widowed and with two small sons, not yet old
enough to take the reins of the Kingdom.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But Bheeshma had been there. In
spite of her tearful pleading to be King, he had refused, choosing to
be regent instead. He respected her and sought her advice and it
surprised her to no end when he started following her advice.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya had bloomed under her
husband’s love and affection and when Chitrangada was born, she was
content. Vichitravirya was an added blessing. She had contemplated a
happy and contented old age when she and her husband could leave the
Kingdom in Chitrangada's able hands and leave for the forest. With
Bheeshma to guide and advise him, she had no doubt her son would lead
the Kurus to even greater glory than before.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But all those dreams had been dashed
to pieces when her husband had died so unexpectedly. Though he was
very much older than her, she had never paid much attention to the
difference in their ages. But at the moment of his death, she had
noticed how worn and tired he looked. She had stopped her tears till
his death, because he had always wanted to see her happy and smiling.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Devavrata," he had
whispered. He was the only one who still called Bheeshma by his given
name. Devavrata had knelt by the bedside.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I will take care of my
brothers, father," he had said. "Chitrangada shall be a
worthy successor."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya had seen the flash of anguish
in her husband’s eyes as he gazed at his eldest son. Instinctively,
she knew that Shantanu wanted Bheeshma to be King after him, and she
too felt that it was the right decision. She had pleaded with him,
even ordered him, but he was adamant. His vow was no light matter. He
would not break it.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Then had come her father's death. He
had sent for her from his deathbed. It was Bheeshma who took her to
him. She had also taken her sons along.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"They are fine boys,"
Dasharaja had wheezed. "That elder one will make a fine king."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Why, father?" She had
asked him. "I would have been content even if my sons had to
remain as princes. Bheeshma deserves to be king. He is worthy in
every way."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Maybe," he had said. "But
it was my right to demand that for you. They could have refused."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I don’t deny you had the
right. But why such an ambition? Why King?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He had looked at her, "I had
the right," he had said finally.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had sighed. "I do not,"
she had said.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He had fidgeted and then said. "You
are the daughter of a King. I am only your adoptive father."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had stared at him in
consternation, believing his words and yet disbelieving.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I am not going to tell you who
your real father was. But you are a Princess. You have the right to
be queen and your sons have the right to be Kings!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had turned from him, her
thoughts in turmoil. Daughter of a King! Adopted by a fisherman. That
spoke volumes for her status! She might have been a King's daughter,
but there was no doubt that she was illegitimate. She was suddenly
infinitely grateful to her father, not the unnamed King, but to the
man she had called father all her life.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He had died the next day and she had
returned to the palace after the funeral, not revealing the truth to
anyone, not even to Bheeshma.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She had thought all her travails
over when Chitrangada was crowned King. She had also seen the
palpable relief in Bheeshma's normally impassive face. He had felt he
too could relax his vigil.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">And now this. Satya sighed. She had
no more tears left to cry.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Mother," Bheeshma walked
in, still dusty and disheveled from his journey. He had not stopped
to change. He had rushed in to see her straightaway.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She held out her hand and he took
them, kneeling before her.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"If you had been there, he
would not have died," it was not an accusation, but a simple
statement of fact. Bheeshma was invincible in battle. Had he been in
Hastinapura, the Gandharva would never have dared challenge her
Chitrangada to a battle.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Bheeshma's hands tightened over
hers. "Shall I get the Gandharva’s head for you?" His
voice was even.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She shook her head. She had had
enough tragedies, enough fighting, enough death. Revenge would not
bring her son back. "Your brother needs you. Hastinapura needs
you. Till Vichitravirya is old enough to be King, you should be here,
by his side. And afterwards too."</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
had gone to put down a rebellion in the eastern provinces. They both
knew he had had to go. The rebellion had been crushed and he was on
the way back when the news of his brother’s death had reached him.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Chitrangada
died in battle, as befitting a Kshatriya," Bheeshma said. "Be
comforted, mother."</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She nodded. It was cold comfort to a
mother, but her son had not shamed his heritage, fighting valiantly
till the end.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-29162012717517250022019-02-08T23:08:00.000-08:002019-02-08T23:08:09.186-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 3<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Many times during her journey to
Hastinapura, Satya wondered if she was in a dream. She, Satya was
going to be queen of Hastinapura! It had to be a dream.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Devavrata rode alongside the
chariot. She wondered about him. The oath he had taken, to remain
celibate for ever, never to know a woman, to have a child… What
sort of a man makes an oath like that? She was awed by him. He called
her Mother but it seemed to her as if she should be bowing to him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He
seemed not aware of the magnitude of the sacrifice he had made. How
could he! He was young yet. And still, he had made it with a smile.
But from the resolution implicit in his jaw and the steely glint of
his eyes, Satya knew he was never going to retract it.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>Does
he hate me? </i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She wondered.
The thought oppressed her. One couldn’t really blame him if he did.
But it would still be unfair, thought she. She had had no role in
what happened. She was only an instrument.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She
resolved that from henceforth, she would not be a passive spectator
to life. She had allowed Parasara to take advantage of her out of
fear. She had allowed her father to make her into a bargaining chip
out of obedience. And in so doing, she had deprived Hastinapura of a
good King. Now, it was her duty to see that the Kingdom did not
suffer for it. </span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>No matter
what happens,</i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"> she
thought, </span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;"><i>I will always put
the interests of my Kingdom before anything else. </i></span><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">It
was the least she could do for Devavrata who had chosen to make this
sacrifice.</span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She sat up straight. She was going
to be married. She might not be excited about it, but she was going
to try to be happy. And she was going to make sure that neither her
husband nor her step son was ever going to have any reason to regret
the oath that her father had caused Devavrata to make.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But she was still afraid. She
wondered what Devavrata would say if he knew of the sage and of her
Krishna. And the thought of Krishna made her sad. She would not be
able to see him again. But he had told her the last time that he
would come to her whenever she needed him. All she needed to do was
to send word to him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Though the memory of those words
comforted her, she still felt sad. Krishna hadn’t anticipated this
parting any more than she had. And she would not be able to see him
or call him to her at her whim. She was going to be a wife. More than
that, she was going to be a queen. And she would not be able to
indulge in whims for any personal gain.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The chariot lurched to a stop. Satya
sat up, quaking, waiting for the chariot door to open. The door
opened suddenly and for a moment she was blinded by the sunlight. A
shadow filled the doorway and she shrank back in fear.</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Mother," it was that
respectful voice again. "We have reached,"</span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm; orphans: 2; widows: 2;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She saw that he was holding out his
hand respectfully. She placed her hand in his as he helped her
alight.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-90178754832151827712019-02-05T04:08:00.000-08:002019-02-05T04:08:29.572-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 2<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya
wondered why she was destined to meet this man that day of all days.
It had been a busy day for her, and she had returned from ferrying
the last of her passengers across. She was still waiting, in case
someone came along. No one generally came, but sometimes a stray
traveler would come seeking a way across the river.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Sometimes
Krishna would come, accompanied by his father. Sometimes he would
come alone. He was old enough now to travel on his own. She did not
resent it that he was close to his father or that he wanted to be a
sage. She knew her resentment would only drive a wedge between
herself and her son, so she swallowed it and learned to let go of it.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But
on that day, the one who came to her was a total stranger and he was
seeking, not a way across the river, but Satya's home. He was tall
and majestic and she could see that he was almost as old as her
father. But he was not wrinkled or stooped, but handsome still and
stood straight as a sapling. He was like the Kings in the tales that
the village story teller used to tell her so many years ago. He had
gazed at her in wonder and then had asked her for her name and asked
about her father and asked where he could find him.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She
had told him, wondering if he had come to buy the new boat her father
had built. Boats were her father’s passion and his boats were
bought by Kings and Princes from far.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Seeing
his grandeur, Satya wished he had found her in the morning before she
started her work, before she became all sweaty and her hairs all
blown out of the coil in which she had wound them in the morning.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya
had forgotten all about him by the time she returned home that day.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">For
the next few days, Satya noticed a sense of impatience coupled with a
suppressed excitement in her father. She wondered why that was; she
had never seen him like that. But her questions elicited no straight
answers. He made vague references to good fortune and Goddess Lakshmi
from which Satya could understand that he had had an opportunity for
realizing his ambitions. She always knew her father was ambitious,
though what exactly his ambitions were, were a mystery to her. She
wondered if some coastal chieftain or ruler had hired him to build a
fleet of boats.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">All
speculation ended the day the chariot bearing the standard of
Hastinapura came to their hut in the morning. Her father had hurried
out eagerly, but had stopped with face pale as he saw the man who
stepped out. Satya had looked at the stranger. He was dressed in
white and was young, though she could not tell if he was older or
younger than her.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Something
about him reminded her of the man she met the other day. But there
was an arrogance about this man that was lacking in the other one.
She stood just inside the door as he looked around with a kind of
surprised wonder.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Are
you Dasharaja?" he asked, his voice deep and resonant. Her
father had nodded and asked him to come in. Satyavati went into the
kitchen as her father led their guest to the room which served as
their dining and bed rooms, spread a mat and bade him to sit.</span></span></span></span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-51226092136797317812019-02-03T03:10:00.000-08:002019-02-03T03:10:40.785-08:00Fragments from a Shattered Image<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Fragment 1<br />
<br />
<br />
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The girl wiped off the sweat from
her brow. She gazed up at the sky. The sun was too bright that day
just as it had been the past week. Yet, the village astrologer had
predicted rains. She snorted as she thought of him. Him and his
rains!!</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She looked all around. The woods
were still. An occasional breeze skimmed the grass and reached the
trees, only to die a strangling death among their branches. The
river's surface too was unmarred by ripples.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She sat down wearily on a rock on
the shade of a tree. She was grateful for the shade. It was boring,
this work of ferrying the occasional passenger across. And tiring
too. She looked at her arms in distaste. They were tanned brown from
the hours she spent in the sun. And she was already dark to begin
with.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">She would not have felt so bad if
she hadn’t heard the stories of princes and princesses told by the
village storyteller. Beautiful they were, according to the story
teller, fair and shapely with ornaments adorning their limbs and
fragrant with oils and unguents. Not like Satya who was dusky and
smelling of fish. And the princes were handsome and brave wearing
golden armor and divine weapons, quite unlike the men in Satya's
village who carried fish nets and looked taciturn.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Absently, she picked up a blade of
grass and began to chew on it. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">It was thus the sage found her. In
the first blush of her youth, her lovely eyes fixed on the faraway
horizon, a blade of grass between her teeth, her pose was languid and
seductive.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The girl was unconscious of the
picture she presented. She was aware of her arms and body, baked
brown from the sun, of her clothes which she was beginning to grow
out of and which were patched at several places, of the fishy odour
which refused to leave her no matter how many times she bathed, of
the calluses in her hands and feet from her hard labour and miles of
walking.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The man saw the shapely limbs, the
clothes barely adequate to cover her youthful body, her curves
straining against them. He saw the straight nose, the firm jaw, the
dimpled cheek. He saw her as a temptation and wondered if he should
leave. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But he had to cross the river and go
to the ashram that day. That decided it for him. He was a sage with
control over the senses, he told himself. He was not going to lose
control over some fisher girl ferrying the boat no matter how
attractive she was.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Even the odor of fish that clung to
her combined with the musk of her sweat was intoxicating him.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">'Stop it, Parasara,' he told himself
sternly.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satyavati saw the young sage and she
rose from where she sat. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"O venerable one," said
she. "Do you wish to go across?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The sage nodded. He was nice
looking, she noticed, or would have been if his expression was not so
forbidding. There was a look in his eyes that made her tremble,
though not from fear. And yet, there was something frightening about
him too.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He boarded the boat in silence, his
eyes not leaving her. She felt as if his eyes were devouring her
whole and she shivered though the day was hot. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Where to, O great one?" </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The question was only a formality.
They all came here to go to the ashram on the north east. It was a
journey Satya did not like, for sometimes the fog banks would roll in
and once they did, they would stay for hours. It would be impossible
to guide the boat and Satya would have to drop anchor and wait it
out. It would get so cold that she would shiver and worst of all
would be her passengers who seemed totally unaware of the situation
and would sit still and silent without saying a word.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"The ashram." His voice
was a croak, as if his throat was dry. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">No wonder, thought she. It was such
a hot day.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">As she pushed off from the bank, she
noticed the fly caught in a spider's web on the grass near the
landing. No time to free that now, she thought, feeling agitated. Her
passenger would not like waiting. With a sigh, she dropped the pole
and picked up the oars.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">In later years, Satya asked herself
many times if she could have done something differently. Something.
Anything. But her mind never gave any answers. It mocked her for
being a fool. He was a powerful sage. What could a fisher girl like
you have done? It asked her. Why do you even think that you had the
power to do anything?</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">When the fog rolled in, Satya had
expected another boring wait. In retrospect, she would have exchanged
that afternoon for all the boredom in the world.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I am a powerful sage," he
had told Satya when it was over. "As such no sin will come to
you for this." </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Satya had heard his words, but had
not believed them. She had lost her belief in sages. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Her father had been aghast when he
learned the truth. He had been angry but he was practical enough to
know that Satya was helpless to stop what had happened. He was also a
shrewd man. He had sent Satya to his sister who lived in one of the
islands that dotted the great river. And he had also tracked down the
sage. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Her father had made a big gamble
counting on the sage's youth when he threatened to publicize his act
unless he took responsibility for the baby that was growing inside
Satya. The sage had less to fear from exposure. Satya's father knew
this. If the sage had called his bluff, there was nothing else he
could have done but to bury his dreams and his grand ambitions. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But his reading of human nature was
not faulty, as it turned out. Parasara was contrite. He agreed to
take responsibility for the child. He would have been happy never to
see Satya or her father again. It was Satya who stipulated that the
child's whereabouts be informed to her. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">All that was a thing of the past
now. Years had passed. Satya still had nightmares of arms holding her
like vices… of hot breath fanning her body… of a knee nudging her
legs apart... and in her nightmares, her voice was not stolen by fear
and she screamed her “No!” so loud the skies echoed them back. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">But in spite of the nightmares, all
Satya felt was a curious kind of indifference when she thought of the
sage. She was grateful to the sage for two things. The first was the
child. Her son Krishna, the dark one who was named Dwaipayana by his
father as he was born on an island. The second was for teaching her
how to get rid of her body odor and the fishy smell. The sage had
told her how to extract fragrances from flowers and herbs and how to
use them so that her body would remain fragrant for hours. In fact,
she became known as Yojanagandha among her people who were amazed at
how fish smelling Satya suddenly became so sweet smelling. Her aunt
thought it was the sage's magic. Satya never attempted to correct
her. She knew that her aunt's superstition was the best protection
for her reputation.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-13136803299962323962019-02-01T07:05:00.000-08:002019-02-01T07:05:05.110-08:00Blurb for Elitist Supremacy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Been fiddling around to create a blurb for Elitist Supremacy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="western" style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The galaxy of Cynfor is ruled by the immortal despot Cesar Thaxter
and his Elite, a highly trained squad of immortal warriors. The
Resistance has been trying unsuccessfully to undermine Thaxter’s
rule for 800 years, but with no way of neutralizing the Elite and
lacking the resources to fight, the Resistance is confined to small
pockets in the Galaxy. Forced into hiding, Zain Baako, their leader
comes up with a plan to build themselves a safe haven away from the
all encompassing reach of the State. But for the plan to succeed,
they need to ally themselves with Alexander Selwood, a successful
businessman, who is hiding a terrible secret of his own. The
Resistance needs Alexander to achieve their goals, but Alexander has
his own agendas. Allying with him might be their only chance to
further their goals, but what if it places them in even more danger?
With his past, how far can they trust Alexander?</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-3553105673645318172019-01-20T04:36:00.001-08:002019-01-20T04:36:10.220-08:00My new FB author Page<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Check out my new author page in FB <a href="https://www.facebook.com/GeethaKrishnanbooks/" target="_blank">here</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-18645533631347327582018-10-29T05:15:00.000-07:002018-10-29T05:15:34.940-07:00The Banished Secret: Chapter Eight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya sat in a corner, feeling out
of place and bored. He and Abhi had arrived at Shyam and Vina’s
house at six and had been ushered into this room. It was a large room
which was already full of people the same age as Abhi and Aditya had
immediately felt out of place. He had found a seat in a corner and
Abhi had stayed at his side for a while before Aditya told him to go
and have fun. Abhi had resisted before gravitating towards his
friends. There were a lot of Aditya’s students among the guests,
and they came over to greet him before going back to mingle with
their friends. Abhi was dancing with a girl whom he remembered having
seen once or twice around the campus. Vina was flirting with one of
the boys from their class named Aakash and Shyam was nowhere to be
found. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He was wondering if it might be
polite to leave and was looking around to see if he can spot Shyam
anywhere when a stranger came and sat down on a chair next to him. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Hi,” said the man. “You are
Abhi’s brother, aren’t you?”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya looked at the man. He had
never seen him before. He was tall, with a pleasant open face, and
pair of very keen eyes. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Yes,” Aditya said. “But how
did you know?”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The stranger chuckled. “Easy to
spot the resemblance. I’m Savit, by the way. I’m not from the
college, I’m a family friend of Shyam. That’s how I met Abhi.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya nodded. “Nice to meet you,”
he said, before relapsing into silence. What did one say in
situations like this? He had never had any skill in making small
talk. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">You’re a professor, aren’t
you? What do you teach?” Savit asked.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Economics,” Aditya replied,
nearly suppressing a groan. It looked as if Savit wasn’t going to
leave soon. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">I’m a total ignoramus where
that is concerned,” Savit grinned. “Just scraped through with
pass marks in school.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya smiled faintly, not knowing
how to answer or if any answer was expected.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">You’re not drinking,” Savit
observed.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">I have to drive home,” Aditya
answered.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Hmm… and your parents are on
holiday, I heard.” </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Not exactly. They have gone to
visit our grandparents.” Aditya wondered how Savit knew about their
parents not being home, but he did not explain that his grandmother
was ill and his parents would not be returning in the near future,
not till she improved anyway. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">I see,” Savit said, smiling.
“Well, nice talking to you, Aditya. Be seeing you around.” </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya heaved a sigh of relief as
Savit disappeared into the crowd of dancing youngsters. But the sigh
turned into a groan as Aakash sat down onto the vacant seat with an
ingratiating smile.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Here you are," an unknown
girl with a bright smile grabbed hold of Aakash before he even
greeted Aditya. With a muttered apology, Aakash went with the girl.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Enjoying yourself?" Shyam
took the seat.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Would you feel offended if I
say no?" Aditya was tired of trying to make conversations. At
least with Shyam, he didn’t have to pretend. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Shyam shrugged. "Not really.
Abhi did warn me you were kinda anti-social."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I'm not, but I'm not
comfortable with people I don't know." Aditya was offended. He
wasn’t anti-social. He just liked his own company or those of his
books more. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Sounds anti-social to me,”
Shyam teased. “If you’re tired of the party, go and have dinner.
Buffet is arranged outside. You can go home afterwards."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Abhi planning to stay here
tonight?" Aditya asked. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I think so. We'll be glad to
have you too, you know." Shyam said.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I think I'll go. I dread
having to make small talk to people I don't know." Aditya hadn’t
meant to have said it, but he wasn’t regretting having said it
either. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Shyam laughed. "Well, Saina
saved you from Aakash, didn't she? You didn't have to make any small
talk."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Not with him. But there was no
one to save me from that Savit guy."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Savit?" There was a
slight frown on Shyam’s face. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"He said he was a family
friend." Aditya said.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Oh him! Yea. He's a bore. Come
to think of it, he wanted to stay the night too. And so did a couple
of others." Shyam frowned. "I’m beginning to see that we
don’t have enough room. Abhi will need to go home. How am I even
going to explain that?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Aditya chuckled. "How fortunate
l did not take you up on your invitation!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"I'm bad at organizing,"
Shyam grimaced. "I will probably need to sleep on the couch too.
Never mind. You go have your dinner. I shall bring Abhi too."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"He won't be happy,"
Aditya muttered.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"No, he won't. I'm hoping
he'll..." Shyam's brow cleared. "I got it! I'll come with
you two. I just need to throw a few things in a bag. How lucky
tomorrow is a holiday!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"What? But it's your birthday!
You can't just leave your guests and go like that!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Vina will manage them. She
owes me one anyway. And mum and dad won't mind too much. You did meet
them today, didn't you?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Yes, when we came in. Why do
you ask as if they’re strangers to me?”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Just ‘coz they’ll be asking
me later if you and Abhi attended. They’re not familiar with most
of this crowd, but they know and like the two of you.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Well, I haven't seen them since I
came in." Aditya couldn’t really make head or tail out of
Shyam’s explanation.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Oh, they'll be around
somewhere. They don't enjoy this crowd, but they enjoy parties. I’ll
just go and tell them I’m coming with you, and we’ll all have our
dinner and we’ll go.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Well, if you're sure, you're
welcome to come with us." Aditya gave in.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Thanks big bro." Shyam
flashed him a bright smile. </span>
</div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-77967443276839011102018-10-20T00:13:00.001-07:002018-10-20T00:14:10.422-07:00Book promo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Free book promo ending soon! Grab your copies now!!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07GZM6C6S" target="_blank">Pradyutita</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-17160021557847472392018-10-16T05:20:00.001-07:002018-10-16T05:20:58.485-07:00Free Book Promo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Free book promo (kindle edition) is now active. Please buy, read and review <a href="https://www.amazon.in/dp/B07GZM6C6S" target="_blank">Pradyutita</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-70839437172260342002018-10-14T22:11:00.001-07:002018-10-29T05:13:46.208-07:00The Banished Secret: Chapter Seven<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Arnava stepped into the room
cautiously. He was carrying his bow and arrows, his dagger and his
sword. The room was empty. The entire building was deserted as was
evident from its dilapidated condition. Yet, he had been told to come
here. He pushed open the window, which protested with a creak, but
one pane still opened. One of the panes was stuck, and Arnava
desisted from using force to open it. The slanting rays of the
evening sun filtered in through the half open window. Arnava moved to
the other side and pushed aside the moth eaten curtains. The dust
made him cough, and he lifted his uttariya to his face to cover his
mouth and nose. There was a balcony beyond the door of which had been
boarded up.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He was not certain if he did the
right thing in coming here. Was it foolish of him to just come here
on the basis of an anonymous note? He wondered who had placed the
note on his room and why. Why had he been asked to come here? And by
whom? There was something fishy about it. The note had burned to ash
as soon as he had finished reading, but he still remembered what was
written on it. It had directed him to come here at sunset if he
wanted to save his brothers and his kingdom from disaster. What
disaster? He could not understand, but if any unknown danger
threatened his brothers or his kingdom, he could not just ignore it.
But seeing the condition of the building, and that there was no one
there, he was wondering if he made the right decision. He was glad he
was armed. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He heard a noise and whipped around,
arrow nocked. A hooded and cloaked figure stood just inside the room.
He felt a prickle that might have been fear. He had not heard its
approach. It? He did not know why he thought of this person as it,
but the person was standing so still, and the faint breeze that came
through the window and disturbed the dust and caused Arnava’s
uttariya to flutter caused no movement to the man’s robes. The hood
and cloak were both black in colour and covered the figure so
completely that not even a sliver of flesh was visible anywhere,
face, hands, feet all were covered.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Who are you?" He
demanded, not lowering his bow. "Are you the one who asked me to
come? How did you get the note to my room? What disaster threatens
us?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"Impatient," the voice
sent shivers down his spine. It was like no human voice he'd ever
heard; it reminded him of something slithering across the floor. "So
impatient you are, yet, some things are revealed only at the
appropriate time."</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"So, it was you who asked me to
come.”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The hooded figure bowed his head in
agreement. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">If you don’t intend to tell me
anything, why did you ask me to come?"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">To tell you of your purpose,”
the voice dropped to a whisper, becoming almost a hiss.</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"What purpose?” Arnava asked
impatiently. “Who are you to give me orders, or tasks?”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Who I am is irrelevant, but the
task you’ve been set is important. Do not question it! It is the
will of the gods!”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Gods?” Arnava scoffed. “I’m
sure there aren’t any who look like you. If you’ve called me just
to waste my time, I’ll be leaving.” Arnava half turned to leave,
when the figure spoke again, sounding agitated, the inhuman voice
becoming grating. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">The usurper you have taken into
your midst must be killed! You must kill him! Or he will be the death
of you all!" </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"What usurper?" Arnava
frowned as he turned to face him again. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">"The one named Bhaskara! Kill
him! Or he will kill you all!"</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">What?” Arnava was incensed.
“He’s my brother! How dare you!”</span></div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
“<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">He’s death and destruction!
He’s not worthy! He must die!” The figure took a step forward. </span>
</div>
<div align="justify" class="western" lang="en-US" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 1.27cm;">
<span style="font-family: Book Antiqua, serif;">Arnava took a step back, and
released the arrow, fury coursing through him. The arrow passed
through the figure and buried itself on the wall. The hood and cloak
crumpled to the floor. There was nothing underneath. He lowered his
arm and wiped his brow. His heart was hammering. He had no idea what
he just faced, or even what exactly had happened, but he knew he had
to get back to the palace before his father or brothers noticed his
absence.</span></div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-13265438633145294252018-10-14T22:09:00.000-07:002018-10-14T22:09:04.320-07:00Free Book Promo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Having a free book promo (kindle edition) from 16th to 20th. Buy, read and review <br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.amazon.in/dp/B07GZM6C6S" target="_blank">Pradyutita</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4072064168767769719.post-83147336972831232752018-09-06T07:06:00.000-07:002018-09-06T07:06:17.870-07:00A judgement for humanity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/gay-sex-is-not-a-crime-says-supreme-court-in-historic-judgement/articleshow/65695172.cms" target="_blank">SC Judgement on Article 377</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0