Was & Will

The palace of Panchala was decorated with the finest flowers. Skilled musicians were called. They occupied a separate stage in one corner of the room. The melodies of the traditional instruments set the mood. The gathering hall was prepared well to host hundreds of kings and princes. King Drupad, the ruler of Panchala, had arranged his daughter Panchali's swayamvar. Swayamvar is a royal ceremony where the princess chooses her husband amongst various suitors. But this was not like any other swayamvar. The challenge of deciding the eligibility of the suitor was tough. After all, even Panchali wasn't an ordinary woman. She was the one born from the ritual fires. She was special. It was an archery challenge. The suitors had to string the holy bow and aim at the eye of the rotating fish hung on the ceiling by looking at its reflection in the water below. It was difficult, but not impossible. At least not for Karna. Karna was the king of Anga. He was the adopted son of charioteer Adhirath and Radha. Originally, his birth parents were the Sun god and Queen Kunti, but that was not known to anyone. Even Karna had no idea regarding his birth parents. Belonging to a lower cast, he had to struggle to achieve his existing status. In spite of his exceptional inborn archery skills, no teacher was ready to accept him as a student. With all the hardships, he somehow managed to learn from sage Parshuram. He became the best student and a brave Archer and now a wonderful ruler. In the sabha mandala, the gathering hall, he sat with his best friend Duryodhana, the prince of Hastinapur. When Panchali entered the court, every eye turned to admire her beauty. Incling Karna. She looked like a goddess from the Heavens. Her eyes moved over the entire court. She acknowledged King Drupad, her subjects and the suitors. Finally, her eyes rested on Karna. She continued gazing at him. He noticed it too. He smiled. She returned it with equal enthusiasm. Even Duryodhana noticed it. He teased his friend. It was a rare occasion. Karna was blushing. Duriyodhan told him that he would not participate in the swayamvar. The procedure and rules of the competition were explained. The bow was holy, a gift from the gods themselves. Only the worthy bearer would lift it. Nobody dared except Karna. He got from his seat and walked to the bow. He acknowledged it by folding hands in Namaskara. He easily lifted it and stringed it. Before aiming, for once he looked at the princess for her permission. She was grinning. With due respect, he positioned himself on the ground. Focusing on the fish's eye, he pulled the string. Before he could release the arrow, a sharp voice stopped him. He looked up. It was hers. It was the princess. She said out loud, "I would not marry a low-born." He looked at her with blood shot eyes. His heart broke. He thought the princess too wanted to marry him. He could not believe his ears. She repeated and he had no choice but to leave. He respectfully placed the bow where it was and headed out. Duriyodhan rose in furry; he had an entire army to avenge his best friend's dishonor. Karna singled him not to attack and left the court silently. That would be the biggest insult of his life from a person he loved. He ordered his charioteer to move. The horses ran at the highest speed possible. Soon they crossed the boundary of Panchala. It started raining. He ordered the charioteer not to stop. The wind blew strongly. Suddenly, a roadside tree uprooted, directly falling over the chariot. The horses could not stop and the chariot crashed into the woods. Karna fell down. His eyes seemed heavy and finally they were closed. ~•~ It was a pleasant morning. Nisha's favourite song played on her phone, her alarm. She popped her head out of the cocooned blanket. The sunrays filled her room through the French window. The curtains were off. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her body. Her body moved to the rhythm of the song. This was her way to start the mornings. Set your favourite song as an alarm and have a great start to your day. It worked for her. She got down from her bed and moved to the bathroom. Nisha was a 20-year-old college girl. She was doing her major in physics. She came out. Her long hair wet behind her back. She used her purple towel to dry them. Then she carefully placed the towel on the hanger beside the full-length mirror. She took a transparent bottle of hair oil. Poured 2 to 3 drops on her palm, rubbed it onto the other and applied it to her wet hair as a conditioner. Her simple hair care tricks. Then she moved to her desk, switched on her laptop and sat on the nearby chair. She managed a lifestyle blog. She also had a good number of followers. Her life was very disciplined. She had a way of doing everything. Her life was simple and she loved this simple life. Hence, she had moved out of her house. The royal palace at Jodhpur, Rajasthan. Her home, half of which is a museum. Can't be called a home when 24×7 strangers keep visiting. Royalty brings too much drama, she believed. What is the need of the royals in a democratic country? She asked. She believed that royalty lies in serving the subjects. To see for the welfare of your people. In the 21st century you have a government to do that. Royal families are just the show off of their inherited riches. It was 7:45am, and she finished her writing. Had her breakfast and grabbed her bag. She moved to her mini library, where she had many books, especially novels. She grabbed one of them. Then she locked the door to her apartment and waited for the college bus to arrive. Soon she was sitting on her favourite window seat, with her headphones over her ears and the novel in her hand. She loved reading on the bus ride. For her it was a great escape when the cool breeze grazed her face. She could roam in the world of the novel for 30 minutes, till she reached her college. She was lost in reading when suddenly the bus took a sharp turn. Something did come in front of the bus. The bus went out of control. There came a series of screams. Nisha was startled but she maintained her seat. The driver tried hard to gain back control. It was of no use. Two more sharp turns and the bus overturned in the woods. That's what Nisha remembered before she lost consciousness.