Chapter 1: The Rising Tension

The soft strains of music filled the air as Mirchi presented a special feature, "Times of Music." A voice echoed with the gravity of ancient tales, "If you break your old grudges and go to him once to pray, he will immediately agree." The words hung in the air like a solemn promise, as if the universe itself listened in anticipation.

In a distant palace, whispers of treachery stirred. "Duryodhana has built a house of wax to burn us alive," a voice declared, thick with malice. The Pandavas, unaware of the sinister plots against them, moved forward on their path. In the world of kings and warriors, becoming a prince and gaining the throne were indeed worlds apart. Yet, Arjuna, the valiant archer, had already shown his might by defeating the formidable King Saur in battle. "The Pandavas, along with Kunti, will be completely ruined, and no blame will fall on us," the conspirators planned, their hearts set on dark deeds.

The Mahabharata, an eternal epic penned by the sage Vedavyasa, had been retold through the ages, capturing the imaginations of many. Scholars like Rajshekhar Basu and Kaliprasanna Singha had translated the epic into Bengali, ensuring its stories lived on. Now, a simple version unfolded for the young minds eager to learn of the past.

In the grand assembly hall, a momentous event occurred. Arjuna, refusing to duel with Karna due to his lack of royal lineage, saw an unexpected twist. Duryodhana, with a cunning smile, gifted Karna the kingdom of Anga. The sight of Karna, now a king, left Kunti, Arjuna's mother, in stunned silence. Meanwhile, Arjuna had captured King Drupada of Panchala, offering him to Dronacharya as a teacher's fee. Victory upon victory seemed to follow the Pandavas.

The sound of triumphant music heralded the return of the heroes. King Dhritarashtra, blind but not unknowing, turned his attention to Chief Minister Vidura. "What is that sound, Chief Minister Vidura?" he asked.

Vidura, ever loyal and wise, replied, "Arjuna and Bhima are returning to Hastinapur after defeating King Saur in battle, O King. The people are overjoyed with this incredible news."

King Dhritarashtra nodded, a sense of pride swelling within him. "King Saur, whom neither my father, Vichitravirya, nor my mighty brother Pandu could defeat in battle, was performing a three-year-long sacrifice to harm the Kuru dynasty. Arjuna has defeated that Saur in battle."

Vidura continued, enthusiasm in his voice, "Yes, O King, Arjuna alone has defeated Saur, whom even the most powerful kings could not conquer in battle. Not only that, but Bhima and Arjuna have also made all the kings of the western region acknowledge Hastinapur's supremacy. They have returned to the Kuru kingdom with great wealth after defeating them. These priceless treasures will adorn the coronation ceremony of Yudhishthira."

The time had come for the coronation of Yudhishthira as the crown prince. Vidura spoke with reverence, "O King, it is time to welcome Yudhishthira as the crown prince. Yudhishthira himself is the epitome of righteousness and justice. The other Pandavas are no less. Bhima's strength and speed make gods, demons, and humans seem like mere toys. Arjuna is unmatched not only with the bow but also with the mace, spear, sword, arrow, and club."

He paused, then added, "Nakula has gained great skill in weaponry under Guru Drona's teaching. He has effortlessly mastered various battle strategies, earning him the name 'Vichitra Yodha' or 'Unique Warrior.' He is also known as 'Atiratha' among warriors for his ability to fight numerous heroes alone. Sahadeva was a great warrior, but he loved studying books more than fighting. He knew all the scriptures by heart. He, along with his three brothers, took great care of Yudhishthira and respected him deeply. To them, whatever their eldest brother said was like a command from the scriptures. Even their mother, Kunti, respected her eldest son."

The grand event of Yudhishthira's coronation drew near. Many kings, relatives, friends, and wise sages from various lands gathered to bless him. Among them was Krishna Dvaipayana Vyasa, witnessing the grandeur of Hastinapura. King Dhritarashtra, with a voice filled with authority, declared, "I, King Dhritarashtra, the great-grandson of King Shantanu and son of Maharaja Vichitravirya, declare with the consent of the wise, elders, council members, friends, guests, and citizens, that my beloved brother Pandu's eldest son, Kunti's son Yudhishthira, will be the crown prince of Hastinapura. Yudhishthira, being the eldest of the Kuru family, is the rightful heir to the throne. I declare him the sole heir with the sun, moon, and gods as witnesses."

Yet, in the shadows of the grand hall, a voice of dissent rose. "The throne of Hastinapura is mine, for my son Duryodhana. I am King Dhritarashtra's eldest son, so how can Yudhishthira become the crown prince? Yudhishthira's father, Pandu, gave up all rights to the throne, so how can the Pandavas claim it?" The air grew tense with unspoken conflict.

A soothing voice intervened, "Calm down, my son." The music swelled, echoing the tumultuous emotions that lay beneath the surface, hinting at the battles yet to come.

Chapter 2: The Whisper of Shadows

The grand hall shimmered with the light of a thousand lamps, casting long shadows that danced with the flickering flames. Duryodhana stood amidst the gathering, his anger simmering beneath the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. His uncle, Shakuni, laid a calming hand on his shoulder, his voice a gentle murmur against the growing tension.

"Calm down," Shakuni said with a reassuring smile. "There are many important people here, Duryodhana. It's not good to be so upset now. Just watch quietly for now; that's the best thing to do. Understand?"

Duryodhana's eyes blazed with defiance. "Watch quietly? Watch quietly?" he echoed, his voice rising with each word. "Uncle, do you think Duryodhana is that weak? If I don't do what I say to those five Pandavas..."

Shakuni interrupted, his tone still soothing, "You'll have plenty of time to act later. This is not the right time to argue. Besides, remember that being declared crown prince doesn't mean sitting on the throne. A crown prince and a king are not the same. The throne is still far away, my child."

Confusion clouded Duryodhana's face. "I don't understand anything, Uncle."

Karna, a steadfast friend to Duryodhana, stepped forward, his voice steady and wise. "Uncle Shakuni is right, my friend. Being announced as the crown prince and actually sitting on the throne are two very different things. Many things can happen in between. There's no need to be so worried right now. And why are you thinking so much about it?"

Shakuni nodded, adding, "Today, I will explain to you, Karna, and you should explain it to your friend. Oh Duryodhana, you shouldn't always rely on what you see with your eyes. Wise people use their minds too. Now, quietly listen to what the righteous Vidura is saying."

As the ceremony continued, Yudhishthira, the newly declared crown prince, moved forward to pay his respects. The ceremony was complete, and the air was filled with the sound of blessings and well-wishes.

"Go, dear one," Vidura advised Yudhishthira, "and pay your respects to the wise and the elders. Bow down fully to the great sage Vyasa."

Yudhishthira nodded, his voice respectful and sincere. "As you say, great sage."

He approached Bhishma, the venerable elder known for his unwavering justice and duty. "Grandfather," Yudhishthira said, bowing deeply, "please accept the humble respects of Yudhishthira, son of Kunti and Pandu."

Bhishma's eyes softened with affection. "May you live long, my child, and be famous. Always be a protector of righteousness."

Yudhishthira continued his journey of respect, bowing at the feet of the family teacher, Kripacharya. "May you be victorious everywhere, dear Yudhishthira," Kripacharya blessed him.

Next was Dronacharya, the revered teacher of archery. "Teacher Dronacharya, please accept the respectful greetings of your devoted student."

Dronacharya smiled, his blessing warm and heartfelt. "May you always be fortunate, crown prince, and may you never have any enemies."

Finally, Yudhishthira approached his elder father, King Dhritarashtra. "Please accept my respectful greetings, elder father. Bless me."

Dhritarashtra's voice was steady, though his heart was heavy with unspoken fears. "Be happy, my child, and live long."

Yet, deep within, Dhritarashtra's heart was troubled. Though he blessed Yudhishthira, his mind was consumed with the fate of his own son, Duryodhana. The praises of the Pandavas filled the palace, yet Dhritarashtra lay awake at night, his mind restless with worry.

In the quiet of his chambers, he summoned Kanika, his trusted advisor, seeking counsel in his time of need.

"Long live King Dhritarashtra," Kanika greeted as he entered. "Did you call for me, Your Majesty?"

"Come, come, Kanika," Dhritarashtra said, his voice a whisper of desperation. "I have been waiting for you like a thirsty bird."

Kanika observed the king's troubled expression. "I could tell just by looking at your face, Your Majesty. Tell me, is there any special trouble?"

Dhritarashtra sighed, his words heavy with the weight of his worries. "The trouble hasn't started yet, but how long until it does? If Yudhishthira becomes king, my son Duryodhana won't be safe there. Kunika, I was denied the throne even though I was the eldest because I am blind. But Duryodhana isn't blind. So why shouldn't he become king after me?"

His voice grew more urgent. "Gandhari was pregnant before Kunti. By the time of pregnancy, Duryodhana is older. But because of the wisdom of elders like Bhishma, the family teacher Kripacharya, and my brother Vidura, I had to declare Yudhishthira as the crown prince. Duryodhana is proud and doesn't come to me anymore. I can't lose my son, Kunika. In this situation, should we fight the Pandavas or make peace? Give me your advice."

The room fell silent, the flickering candles casting long shadows as Kanika pondered the king's dilemma.

Chapter 3: The Seeds of Deception

The room remained silent, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows as Kanika pondered King Dhritarashtra's dilemma. The wise advisor finally spoke, his voice calm and measured. "Your Majesty, patience is key. Until the right time comes, there is little you can do. For now, you must treat even your enemies as friends to gain their trust. But remain vigilant. When the moment is right, do not hesitate to act decisively. Show kindness and cheerfulness, but keep a sharp knife in your heart for when you need to use it."

Kanika paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "Have you ever watched fishermen, Your Majesty? The fish they catch have done no wrong. Yet, they are caught for livelihood and wealth. Learn from them. Without cutting through others, great wealth is never gained. For now, keep peace with the Pandavas and wait for the right moment. This is the essence of politics."

With Kanika's wise advice, King Dhritarashtra felt more confident about the future. His relationship with the Pandavas improved, bringing prosperity and peace to Hastinapur. Everywhere, there was growth and harmony. In matters of justice, policy, kindness, and bravery, the five sons of Pandu excelled, and the people of Hastinapur praised the Pandavas, eagerly awaiting the day Yudhishthira would be crowned king.

During this time, both Bhima and Duryodhana trained in the art of mace fighting under Balarama, the brave son of Vasudeva and Rohini. Although both were equally strong, Duryodhana, due to Dhritarashtra's good relations, became Balarama's favorite student. Balarama even contemplated marrying his younger sister, Subhadra, to Duryodhana. However, while Dhritarashtra waited for the right time as advised by Kanika, Duryodhana grew impatient.

One day, Karna visited his uncle Shakuni's house. "Greetings, Uncle," Karna said, entering the dimly lit room. "Have you brought any special news?"

Shakuni chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "I haven't brought news, nephew; I've come to create some."

Karna cocked his head in curiosity. "I don't quite understand what you mean."

"Forgive me, nephew," Shakuni said with a sly smile. "Try to see with your mind, not just your eyes. Wise people do that. You seem so cheerful today; I’d like to know why."

Karna leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "I've come up with a plan that will completely ruin Kunti and the Pandavas without anyone blaming us."

Shakuni's eyes widened with interest. "Really! That's a serious plan. Tell me everything. What have you thought of?"

Karna grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Look, Uncle, if we wait for the right time as the king says, that time will never come. We have to create the opportunity ourselves. I am creating that opportunity now. My trusted minister Purochana will help me. In the city of Varanavata, there's a festival happening. If the Pandavas go to see it, Purochana will build a house for them to stay in. From the outside, it will look beautiful, but once Kunti and the Pandavas are inside, it will be easy to set it on fire. And no one will know who did it."

"Wow, Duryodhana, that's brilliant!" Shakuni exclaimed, but then he hesitated. "But I have a doubt. Will the people, Drona, Kripa, Vidura, and the citizens of Hastinapura support the Pandavas going to Varanavata? What if they don't let them go?"

Karna waved away his uncle's concerns. "Don't worry about that, Uncle. Duryodhana has kept the people happy with enough money and rewards. They are cheering for him everywhere. Besides, Grandfather is still neutral. He only cares about the kingdom's safety. I've won over Ashwatthama with expensive gifts and respect, so he will be on our side. Dronacharya can't stay without his son Ashwatthama, so he will support us too. Family teacher Kripacharya won't leave his sister Kripi and brother-in-law Dronacharya, so his support is with us. The only one left is Vidura, who always sides with the Pandavas."

"But Vidura can't do anything alone," Karna added confidently. "So we don't need to worry about him. If Father tells the Pandavas to go to Varanavata himself, they won't be able to refuse his order. Go and request the king about this. If you ask him sincerely, he will agree immediately."

Shakuni nodded, a cunning smile spreading across his face. "Very well, Karna. I will speak to the king."

And with that, the seeds of a dark plan were sown, a plan that would set the stage for events that would change the fate of Hastinapur forever.

Chapter 4: The Journey to Varanavata

That evening, with determination in his eyes, Shakuni murmured to himself, "You are right, Matun. Tonight, I will go to the king's chamber." He knew the time was ripe to set their plan into motion. Meanwhile, Duryodhan had returned to his father, King Dhritarashtra, of his own accord. This unexpected visit filled the king's heart with joy, blinding him to the schemes brewing around him.

The next morning, before the official court proceedings began, Dhritarashtra summoned a few of his most trusted ministers. This meeting, requested by Duryodhan, was crucial for the plan to unfold.

As the Pandavas entered the court that day, they were greeted by ministers who spoke highly of the city of Varanavat. They described the grand Pashupati festival held there, a celebration that attracted people from all over. The ministers painted a picture of a city alive with holy saints, melodious singers, and graceful dancers, making it seem as enchanting as the heavenly gardens of Indra.

Nakul and Sahadev, the youngest of the Pandavas, were intrigued. Nakul turned to his elder brothers, his eyes wide with excitement. "Wow, we've never seen Varanavat. Is it really that amazing? Will our elder brother allow us to go there? I am eager to see this joyful festival with my own eyes."

One of the ministers addressed Yudhishthir directly, "Dear Yudhishthir, the news of you becoming the crown prince has made the festival at Varanavat even more splendid this year. If I could, I would go there myself. But, do you wish to see the people there? They are eager to meet you."

King Dhritarashtra, with a voice full of warmth, added, "As you wish, Your Majesty. If you listen to me, take your mother Kunti and your four brothers to Varanavat. Spend some joyful time there and then return to Hastinapur. Give gifts to the saints and singers at the festival. Then, choose an auspicious day for your journey."

"As you command, Your Majesty," Yudhishthir replied, his voice steady and respectful. With Dhritarashtra's wishes clear, the Pandavas began their preparations to journey to Varanavat. They paid their respects to elders like Bhishma, sought blessings from their mothers, and bid farewell to the citizens of Hastinapur. Together with their mother Kunti, the five Pandavas climbed onto their chariot, ready to embark on their journey.

Among the wise Brahmins, whispers of concern began to spread. They realized that sending the Pandavas to Varanavat was more than a simple journey; it was a form of exile, orchestrated by Duryodhan. Some of them openly criticized King Dhritarashtra and expressed a desire to accompany the Pandavas. But Yudhishthir, with gentle words and a calm demeanor, reassured them. Like the wise Vidura, they guided the Pandavas to the borders of Hastinapur before taking their leave.

Vidura, however, stayed behind with Yudhishthir. As they walked, he spoke in a secret language known only to them, imparting wisdom and warnings. "Always remember these few things, my son. Ethics teach us that people should always be aware of danger. Just like the dew on grass cannot be burned by fire, remembering this can help protect oneself. Even if a weapon is not made of iron, it can still be deadly. Impatient people lose their wisdom first. Blind people cannot find their way. Travelers know all the paths. You can find directions using the stars, and if you control your senses, you won't be overwhelmed by fatigue. I've said enough, now you understand the rest, Yudhishthira."

Yudhishthir nodded, understanding the gravity of Vidura's words. "I understand, uncle. Be victorious. I am returning to Hastinapur. I bow to you, son Yudhishthira."

Kunti, who had been listening quietly, asked with a worried expression, "Vidura, I can't quite understand if he forgot to tell you something. If it's a secret message, can it be shared with us? I'm very curious, my son."

Turning to his mother, Yudhishthir explained softly, "Mother, uncle told me that Duryodhana has built a house to burn us alive. We must be very careful, know all the paths well, and stay focused. Only then can we win the kingdom."

As they entered the city of Varanavat, Yudhishthir advised, "Mother, we have entered the city of Varanavata. It's better not to discuss this now. People of Varanavata, please accept the greetings and respect of the five Pandavas. We have come to stay for a while in this beautiful city with Mother Kunti. We will visit the homes of the city's Brahmins, officials, merchants, and workers to receive their blessings before entering our own residence."

And so, the Pandavas began their stay in Varanavat, a city filled with both the promise of celebration and the shadow of danger.

Chapter 5: The House of Shadows

After receiving honor and hospitality from the residents of Varanavata, Purochana led Mother Kunti and the five Pandavas to a grand and beautiful house. The architecture of the house was truly impressive, with elegant carvings and spacious rooms that seemed to welcome them warmly. For ten days, Purochana took great care of the Pandavas, ensuring they were well entertained and looked after.

On the eleventh day, Purochana brought the Pandavas to yet another beautiful house. According to Duryodhana's secret plan, this house was built with ghee, resin, oil, and other flammable materials. From the outside, it looked perfectly normal. But as soon as Yudhishthira stepped inside, he paused. The distinct smell of ghee, oil, and resin reached his nose.

Seeing Yudhishthira's worried expression, Bhima asked, "Elder brother, are you sensing some danger?"

Yudhishthira nodded, his voice low and serious. "Look, brother, this is the house uncle warned us about. It's filled with flammable materials. Can't you smell the ghee, oil, and resin? Wicked Purochana has brought us here to gain our trust and then burn us alive."

"If you clearly understand this, then..." Bhima began, but Yudhishthira interrupted him.

"We must think carefully about our next steps," Yudhishthira said. "If we leave now, Purochana will be sure that we have discovered his plot. Then he will find another way to harm us, and we won't even have a chance to be careful. Moreover, if we return to Hastinapur now, Duryodhana will use force to kill us. He has all the money, soldiers, and power. We are helpless now, so it's better to give up that hope."

Bhima frowned, his fists clenching. "So, what should we do now, brother?"

"We will stay in this house, but we must be very cautious. Purochana should not suspect anything. We need to outsmart Duryodhana and Purochana by being clever. First, we need to learn about different escape routes. If we don't know the right way, we can't escape."

Arjuna, always quick to understand, nodded. "Our main task now is to secretly dig a large tunnel inside this house. But we don't have any tools for digging."

Yudhishthira reassured him, "I hope our uncle will arrange something at the right time. Once the tunnel is dug, we must live in it very carefully. We must make sure that not even the sound of our breathing is heard outside."

While Yudhishthira was pondering over their plan, a man arrived one day and greeted him. In public, he spoke of the bravery and strength of Hastinapur, but in private, he whispered, "Prince, Mahatma Vidura has sent me to you. I can dig a deep tunnel. Mahatma Vidura asked me to remind you of the secret message he gave you when you were coming to Varanavata, and you replied, 'I understand, uncle.'"

Yudhishthira felt a wave of relief wash over him. "I trust you, digger. You are as dear to us as our uncle. Following his advice, dig a very secret and deep tunnel in this house. We will stay in that tunnel at night. Only then can we be safe from Purochana's evil plans."

"Don't worry, Prince," the digger assured him. "I will dig a tunnel for you that will lead you safely to the banks of the Ganges. I will also make sure that you can stay in the tunnel at night without any worries."

The digger was indeed skilled and clever. With swift and silent movements, he began digging a tunnel inside the house. In no time, he had created a deep and long tunnel, covering the entrance with a door that was level with the ground. Now, no one could tell from the outside that it existed. During the day, the Pandavas roamed around hunting, and at night, they moved the door and entered the tunnel. They didn’t all sleep at once; they took turns keeping watch.

The birds outside stayed awake, watching over them as they rested. This is how the Pandavas spent their time, charming everyone with their sweet behavior and kind words. Purochana was convinced that the Pandavas completely trusted him now. So, he began preparing himself for his sinister plan. However, Yudhishthira kept a sharp eye on Purochana, understanding his mindset and preparations with ease.

Chapter 6: The Great Escape

One afternoon, Yudhishthira gathered his brothers in a quiet corner of the house. His voice was low but firm as he spoke, "Listen, brothers, it's time for us to escape. We cannot delay any longer. Before Purochana sets this house on fire, we will burn it down ourselves and make our escape. In that fire, the wicked Purochana will surely perish. There must be the burnt bodies of five men and one woman left behind. This will make everyone believe that Mother Kunti and the five Pandavas died in the fire. Duryodhana will be convinced by this news, giving us the time we need to flee far away to another land."

Only the five Pandavas, Kunti, and the digger knew of this daring plan. The digger, a loyal ally, discreetly sent a message to Vidura. On the day Yudhishthira revealed their plan, Kunti invited the Brahmins of Varanavata for a grand feast. The people of the Vaishya and Shudra classes were not forgotten, nor were the women and children. Everyone ate and drank to their fill, and then they returned to their homes. Only a Nishada woman and her five children, having drunk too much, remained behind, unable to leave. They lay down on the floor of the house, while Purochana slept at the door.

That night, the four brothers carefully placed Kunti in the tunnel. At Yudhishthira’s signal, Bhima set the house on fire. In mere moments, the entire structure was engulfed in flames. Purochana, along with the Nishada woman and her five children, perished in the blaze. By then, the Pandavas and Kunti had traveled far through the deep tunnel, with Bhima leading the way.

Emerging from the tunnel, Bhima hoisted Mother Kunti onto his shoulders and cradled Nakula and Sahadeva in his arms. Holding Yudhishthira and Arjuna’s hands, he swiftly made his way to the banks of the Ganges. Vidura had already arranged for a trusted servant to wait there. With a fast boat ready, the servant ferried Kunti and the Pandavas across the river to safety.

Once on the other side, Yudhishthira began navigating south, using the stars to guide their path. This led them into a dense forest. "Elder brother, I see nothing ahead but a dense forest," Bhima remarked, scanning the thick woods.

"The stars show we are on the right path, Bhima," Yudhishthira assured him. "This forest is our refuge. No one will dare to follow us here, so we are safe. We are not afraid of the dangers in the forest. Arjuna has his arrows, and you have your great strength. I am very thirsty from the journey. Can you quench my thirst, son? Tonight, let us rest under this tree."

"Mother, please don't go further on this dangerous path. I will find a water source and bring some water," Bhima promised. With mighty strides, he began moving swiftly again, pushing aside bushes, grass, and small trees that blocked his way, searching frantically for water.

At last, Bhima discovered a pond. He drank deeply and soaked his large cloth in the cool water to bring it back. With great speed, he returned to his mother and brothers. But when he arrived, he found them all asleep, exhausted from the journey. They lay under the tree, covered in dust, and Bhima's heart ached at the sight. Tears welled up in his eyes, and a burning anger rose within him as he cried out silently.

"Oh, how can this be! The noble Queen Kunti, who deserves to be in a palace, is lying on the ground. Yudhishthira, who is worthy of being the king of the world, is in this state, looking like a beggar. The great warrior Arjuna, whom even Dronacharya considers a prized student, is resting under a tree. Oh, how sad! The two young princes, Nakula and Sahadeva, who are the jewels of Mother Kunti's eyes, look so weary and pale.

What can I do? I am just sitting here, watching this scene, unable to do anything. If Yudhishthira gives the word, I would go to Hastinapur right now and destroy Duryodhana. I cannot bear to see the downfall of the great Pandu's family any longer. Oh God, what should I do? Please tell me, guide me."

As Bhima stood there, wrestling with his emotions, the forest around them whispered its ancient secrets, offering solace to the weary travelers. The stars above twinkled gently, promising hope and a new beginning for the Pandavas.

Chapter 7: The Flames of Varanavata

The night sky over Varanavata was pierced by the sudden roar of flames. The house that once sheltered the Pandavas was now a blazing inferno. The heat and light of the fire jolted the town's residents awake, and the acrid smell of smoke filled the air.

People rushed from their homes, their hearts pounding with fear and confusion. As they gathered around the smoldering ruins, their worst fears seemed confirmed. The house was reduced to ashes, and among the debris lay the charred bodies of Purochana and six others. But in the chaos, no one noticed the tunnel that Vidura had cleverly filled with earth, hidden from prying eyes.

A collective gasp of horror spread through the crowd. The townspeople believed that Kunti and the Pandavas had perished in the flames. As realization dawned, they understood the sinister plot orchestrated by Purochana and cursed the names of Dhritarashtra and the scheming Duryodhana, whose ambitions had driven this tragedy.

The news of the disaster traveled swiftly to Hastinapura, reaching the royal court as it convened. A messenger hurried into the chamber, breathless with the urgency of his message. King Dhritarashtra, feigning deep sorrow, began to mourn loudly for Kunti and the sons of Pandu. Meanwhile, Duryodhana and Karna exchanged furtive glances, their eyes gleaming with unspoken triumph. Guru Drona and Bhishma, usually so composed, were struck silent, their hearts too heavy to grieve.

In accordance with the priests' instructions, Dhritarashtra, Vidura, and the other relatives donned simple garments and proceeded to the Ganges for the rituals. The entire city lined the streets, their cries of mourning echoing like a sorrowful chorus. Yet amidst the sea of grief, Vidura stood calm and composed, a demeanor that did not escape Bhishma's keen observation.

As twilight cloaked the city, Bhishma summoned Vidura to his chamber. "Greetings, elder," Vidura said, bowing respectfully.

"Vidura, come to me. I have called you to ease a particular worry of mine," Bhishma said, his voice heavy with unspoken fears.

"Vidura, I am just a simple man," Bhishma continued. "You are like a teacher to me. I may not have the power to ease your worries, but I will try."

"Only you have that power, Vidura," Bhishma insisted. "Even after hearing the tragic news about Kunti and the Pandavas, you remained calm. Vidura, you are as composed as ever. Has this terrible news not affected you? Or is there another truth hidden somewhere? Tell me everything, Vidura. Do not hide anything. I am drowning in grief. Vidura, save me, my son."

Vidura looked at Bhishma with steady eyes. "Please do not be offended, elder. You have taught that no joy or sorrow can shake a person from their true, steady nature. You have said that while humans are mortal, the eternal soul is indestructible. So why are you so worried today?"

"Yes, I have taught that," Bhishma admitted, "but today, the news is about the sons of Pandu."

"Vidura," Bhishma implored, "have you forgotten Pandu? Kunti, Yudhishthira, Arjuna—shouldn't we mourn for them?"

"What are you saying, Vidura?" Bhishma pressed.

Vidura bowed his head slightly. "Please forgive me, elder. I have completely embraced your timeless wisdom. In this, there is no room for my own sorrow. Besides, the cunning Duryodhana and the blind king Dhritarashtra, blinded by love for his son, are now the two main pillars of the Hastinapur kingdom. You have vowed to protect this kingdom and its throne, elder. So, you must think carefully before taking any action. Today, a message of sorrow has arrived. Naturally, you are very tired. You need rest now. I will take my leave, elder."

As Vidura departed, Bhishma was left alone with his thoughts. "What did Vidura just say? He never leaves like that. Is Vidura hiding something from me too? Oh Mother Ganga, oh Mother, show me the way. Clear my doubts. Calm me, Mother. Yes, yes, I must go to Mother Ganga. Otherwise, I can't find peace."

He called out to a guard, "Guard, give the order, great one. I will go to the riverbank. Bring my horse and a light."

"As you wish," the guard replied, hurrying to fulfill the request.

Bhishma stood by the riverbank, his heart heavy with unanswered questions. "Great one, oh pure Ganga, oh Mother, just say once that the news is false. Who else will shelter me but you? Oh Mother, oh Mother, have mercy, please have mercy."

As if in answer to his plea, the sacred river seemed to whisper back. Far away, in the city of Dwarka, the news of the Pandavas' supposed demise reached Balarama, stirring restlessness in his heart.

Meanwhile, in a dark and forbidding forest, a new danger loomed. A giant demon named Hidimba set his sights on the vulnerable Pandavas, unaware of the fate that awaited him.

And thus, the epic tale of the Mahabharata continued to unfold, with mysteries and destinies intertwined in its timeless narrative.