Chapter 1: The Sadness of King Shantanu

Five thousand years ago, the land we now call India was a place of wonder and magic. It was a time when sages, wise men, hermits, gods, and timeless kings roamed the earth. At the heart of this ancient land was a great king named Shantanu, a descendant of the legendary King Bharat. Under Shantanu's wise rule, the kingdom of Hastinapur reached the height of its glory—a legacy that echoes in India even today. This story is not just a tale from the past; it is very much a part of who we are.

Though modern India looks different from the ancient kingdom of Hastinapur, the stories from that time still resonate. How do I know this? Because I have learned everything, and I am both a witness and a creator of this tale. Who am I? That, I will reveal later. For now, let's turn our eyes to King Shantanu.

King Shantanu, despite his greatness, carried a deep sadness in his heart. His eyes searched constantly for someone, someone who held an amazing power. "Who is this boy?" he wondered. "Could anyone else hold an arrow steady in the waters of the Ganga? Even I, the great archer King Shantanu, cannot do that. This boy truly amazes me. I must find out who he is." With determination, Shantanu moved closer to the water.

He called out, his voice echoing over the river. "Young warrior, who are you? What is your name? Are you a prince? What is your identity?" But the boy was gone, vanished as if into thin air or perhaps into the river itself. A thought struck Shantanu, one that made his heart race. Could this be his eighth son? Only Ganga could answer his burning questions.

"Oh Ganga, oh gentle one, oh Queen of Shantanu," he pleaded, "let me see my son once more. Let me see him with my own eyes, just once more."

From the depths of the sacred river, Ganga emerged, her presence serene and powerful. "King Shantanu," she greeted him, "you have recognized him correctly. Devavrata is indeed our only living son. After the death of the other seven, he is our eighth child."

Shantanu's voice trembled with emotion. "But the other seven did not leave, Ganga. You cast them into the water as soon as they were born. I had seven sons, and now I have no one, Ganga, no one. Why did you do this? Why? I still cannot forget the joy of those seven sons, Ganga, I cannot forget."

Ganga's voice was calm and soothing. "King, please calm down. This emotion does not suit you. You know they were not ordinary children. Due to a curse from the heavenly realm, they were born on earth for just a few moments before returning. Their curse has been lifted, King. That's why I cast them into the water as soon as they were born. They were the eight Vasus of the heavens. Seven have returned. But why are you so restless, King? I have raised the eighth one, your rightful heir. His name is Devavrata. The boy you saw earlier is indeed your son, King."

"Devavrata, my son?" Shantanu whispered, hope flickering in his eyes.

"Yes, King," Ganga confirmed, "the eighth of the cursed Vasus is this Devavrata. In his previous life, his curse was the greatest, so he must stay on earth for a long time to atone."

Shantanu's heart ached with the weight of her words. "What are you saying, Ganga? Devavrata is your child? Your name washes away all sins on this earth, and yet your son, Devavrata, has to complete unfinished tasks from a past life?"

Ganga nodded solemnly. "Yes, Your Majesty, it is time for Devavrata to face the results of his actions. In this life, he has committed no sins, but in his past life, he did something unforgivable. Devavrata, who was then known as Dyu, stole a divine cow from Sage Vashishta's ashram. He was the best among the eight Vasus. He stole the cow at the request of his wife. When the sage found out, he cursed them all to be born as humans. Because of the theft, Dyu's punishment was harsher—he must stay on earth for a long time."

However, Ganga continued, "Sage Vashishta said that Devavrata would become the greatest in the world in the art of warfare. No one would match him in virtue, wisdom, and knowledge. But this son will never find happiness with a wife."

Shantanu's heart sank. "What are you saying? Is Devavrata not human?"

Ganga's eyes softened with understanding. "He is human now, Your Majesty, but his soul carries the burden of his past. He is destined for greatness, but his path will not be easy."

As the river flowed gently by, King Shantanu stood in silence, the weight of Ganga's words settling upon him like a heavy cloak. His heart was full of love for his son, yet he knew the challenges that lay ahead. In the depths of his soul, he vowed to support Devavrata, no matter what the future held.

Chapter 2: The Return of Devavrata

The gentle murmur of the river was the only sound that accompanied Ganga’s serene voice as she spoke. Her words were like the soft ripples that danced upon the water's surface, carrying the weight of destiny itself. "In this life, he is born as a human, Your Majesty. The world needs him greatly. Devavrata will set examples of knowledge, bravery, courage, and courtesy for future generations."

King Shantanu listened intently, his heart swelling with pride and anticipation. Ganga continued, her eyes filled with a mother's love and wisdom. "I have prepared him for this. He has studied the Vedas with Sage Vashishta, and learned other scriptures from the divine teacher Brihaspati and the demon teacher Shukracharya. The great sage Jamadagni has taught him all kinds of weaponry. In archery and royal duties, there is no equal to Devavrata, Your Majesty. This son is now the rightful heir to Hastinapur. You can take this eighth child with you to the palace, Your Majesty."

Shantanu's voice trembled with emotion as he asked, "Are you saying I can see my son and take him back to the kingdom with me, Ganga?"

A gentle smile graced Ganga's lips. "Of course, Your Majesty. Devavrata has completed his education. He can now go with you to the palace in Hastinapur. I will call him now."

As if summoned by the very river itself, a young man appeared, his presence commanding and noble. "Yes, Mother, what is your command?" Devavrata asked, his voice steady and respectful.

Ganga gestured towards the king. "This radiant king standing before you is Shantanu, the great ruler of Hastinapur. Devavrata, he is your father. Bow to him. You must now return to Hastinapur with the king."

Devavrata turned to Shantanu, his eyes filled with a newfound understanding. "Greetings, Your Majesty. I will follow your command, Mother. I will surely go, but if ever there is danger..."

Ganga interrupted softly, her voice a balm to his concerns. "You will face no danger, my child. With the rare education you have received, you can overcome any challenge. But if you ever doubt your duty, come to me. By the river, if you call for me, you will see me."

Devavrata nodded, his resolve firm. "As you command, Mother. Please bless me."

"Stay on the path of righteousness and always be victorious," Ganga blessed him, her words a gentle whisper of assurance.

King Shantanu's heart soared with joy. The palace, which had felt so empty for so long, would soon be filled with the presence of his son. He had neither wife nor children since Ganga left, and now, after years of solitude, his heart brimmed with hope and fulfillment.

I am Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa, known to people for ages as Vedavyasa. I am the timeless seer, yet I have rarely seen a king as disciplined as Shantanu. Few men have truly loved like Shantanu loved Queen Ganga. He was heartbroken by her absence. He probably never imagined that Ganga would give him such a harsh punishment for a simple broken promise. Shantanu didn’t want to see it as a broken promise, but to him, it felt cruel. What mother could send her own children floating down a river? But that’s exactly what Ganga did—not once, but seven times. Shantanu kept silent, accepting all of Ganga’s actions as per their agreement before marriage, even though it broke his heart.

But he couldn’t bear it the eighth time. If all his children were lost this way, who would take responsibility for his dynasty and kingdom? Who would be his heir? Did he have to endure such injustice to his fatherly heart just because he loved Ganga? No, Shantanu couldn’t stay silent any longer. He forgot the promise and pleaded with Ganga to let this eighth child live. Ganga agreed, but for breaking the promise, she left Shantanu forever, taking the child with her.

That child is Devavrata. Today, his education is complete. Ganga has prepared him to be a worthy successor to Hastinapur. Now, she is returning the child to Shantanu herself. Devavrata is going back to his father and their kingdom. As for me, I am just a witness to the endless flow of time, arranging events like pictures. That is my only freedom; everything else is destiny. I am no one else. For now, King Shantanu is heading towards Hastinapur.

There will be a celebration today. The heir to the kingdom is coming. Oh, Devavrata, my child, I can't express how happy I am today. My empty palace will be filled. The sound of celebration will echo everywhere. My child, I am King Shantanu. Gods, humans, spirits, and protectors all follow my word. Everyone in my kingdom receives justice. I want to see you as a brave, heroic, and compassionate king. My child, make the Kuru dynasty proud."

Devavrata, with resolve shining in his eyes, bowed deeply. "As you command, King. I promise to do my best and not let you down."

Chapter 3: The Celebration in Hastinapur

As they approached the grand gates of Hastinapur, King Shantanu's voice boomed with pride. "Wow, now that's how a prince of Hastinapur should speak!" He beamed at Devavrata. "Come, my child, we have reached the gates of Hastinapur. King Shantanu welcomes you to the kingdom of Hastinapur."

Devavrata looked around, his eyes wide with wonder as the sounds of victory chants filled the air. The people were cheering, "Long live the King of Hastinapur! Long live the King!" The air was alive with excitement and anticipation.

The Prime Minister stepped forward, bowing respectfully. "Is everything well, Your Majesty? No troubles on the way, I hope?"

King Shantanu laughed heartily. "Troubles? What are you saying, Prime Minister? Today is a day of great joy for me. The heir of Hastinapur has returned to his kingdom today. My son, Devavrata." He gestured to the young prince beside him. "Look, here is the future prince of the Kuru dynasty. There will be a celebration in the kingdom today, prepare for it as soon as possible."

"Yes, Your Majesty, it will surely happen. Today is indeed a complete day." The Prime Minister turned to Devavrata with a warm smile. "Prince Devavrata, please accept the greetings of the Prime Minister of Hastinapur."

The Prime Minister then called out, "Where is the city guard? Give the orders, Prime Minister."

The city guard stepped forward promptly. "Here is the city guard, inform all the council members. Prince Devavrata has arrived. Send word to the royal dancers. Start preparing for the grand celebration. Make sure the townspeople welcome the prince properly."

"Certainly, Prime Minister. I will arrange everything right away," replied the guard. The air buzzed with excitement as the cry echoed, "Long live King Shantanu of the Kuru dynasty! Long live Prince Devavrata! Long live the King! Long live the Prince!"

Throughout Hastinapur, trumpets blared and horns sounded. After a long time, the kingdom was alive with celebration. The return of Prince Devavrata brought joy to the people. He was as handsome as he was brave and courageous, just like his father, King Shantanu. He cared deeply for the happiness and sorrows of the people, proving himself a true heir of the Kuru dynasty. On an auspicious day, Devavrata was appointed as the crown prince.

As music filled the air, Devavrata, with the help of ministers and friends, began to take over most of the kingdom's responsibilities. King Shantanu, relieved of many duties, found himself returning to his youthful passion—hunting. He spent most of his time outside the kingdom, indulging in deer hunting.

King Shantanu had always found joy in hunting deer, captivated by their grace and beauty. One day, while chasing a young deer, he reached the banks of the Yamuna. Alone and driven by the thrill, he urged his chariot forward.

Suddenly, a strange and enchanting fragrance filled the air. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It wasn't the scent of musk deer. Intrigued, he followed the aroma and soon spotted a beautiful young woman by the riverbank. The delightful scent seemed to emanate from her.

Curious, King Shantanu approached her. "What a stroke of luck! I can hardly believe my eyes. What might you need from me, Your Majesty?"

The young woman smiled gently. "I am the daughter of the fisher king. I work ferrying people across the Yamuna."

Enchanted by her beauty and grace, King Shantanu decided to meet her father, the fisher king. When he arrived, he spoke with purpose. "I saw your daughter by the banks of the Yamuna. She is truly beautiful. I wish to marry her. I have come to you with this proposal."

The fisher king, respectful yet firm, replied, "Your Majesty's immense grace. But regarding the marriage of Satyavati, my daughter, I have some conditions."

"What condition? What is the condition?" King Shantanu asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"The child born from Satyavati will be the crown prince of Hastinapur. Are you willing to accept this condition, King Shantanu?"

The king hesitated, his mind racing. "How is this possible? My eldest son is supposed to be the crown prince of Hastinapur. And I..."

The fisher king interrupted gently, "Please forgive me, Your Majesty. If you wish to marry Satyavati, you must agree to this condition. Please consider it. Otherwise, one might think the fisher king is being greedy, trying to secure the kingdom for his future generations by taking advantage of the king's weakness. But that's not the case."

King Shantanu stood silent, torn between his duty and his heart's desire.

Chapter 4: The Promise of Devavrata

King Shantanu stood by the riverbanks, his heart heavy with the fisher king's condition. Satyavati, the beautiful daughter of the fisherfolk, was unlike any other. Though the fisher king appeared humble, he knew Satyavati's true lineage. Her origins were as mesmerizing as the river Yamuna itself.

Satyavati was not merely a fisherman's daughter. Her true story began with King Uparichar Vasu of the Chedi kingdom. One day, while hunting, King Uparichar was overwhelmed with longing for his wife. In a moment of passion, he sent his seed to her through a golden bird. But fate had other plans. The seed fell into the Yamuna River, where a fish swallowed it. The fish, magically pregnant, was caught by a fisherman months later, revealing two babies inside—a boy and a girl. The girl, given to the fisherman by King Uparichar, was Satyavati. Raised among fishermen, she was called Matsyagandha, yet her destiny was woven with royalty.

King Shantanu, unaware of this tale, returned to his palace, burdened by his dilemma. He couldn't imagine anyone but his son, Devavrata, as the crown prince. Yet, his heart ached for Satyavati. Accepting the fisher king's terms felt like a betrayal to Devavrata and the kingdom. His mind was a storm of confusion, robbing him of peace and joy.

Devavrata, noticing his father's distress, approached him one day. "Father, what troubles you so?" he asked, bowing respectfully. "You seem distracted. How can I help ease your burden?"

King Shantanu looked at his son with deep affection. "My dear Devavrata, you are my world. Your skills and wisdom reassure me of Hastinapur's future. But, the sages say that having one son is like having none. If anything were to happen to you, the kingdom would have no heir..."

Devavrata listened, sensing the depth of his father's worries. Determined to uncover the cause, he sought out the chief minister, who revealed everything about Satyavati and the fisher king's condition.

The next day, Devavrata set out to meet the fisher king himself. Upon his arrival, the fisher king greeted him with the respect due to the prince of Hastinapur. "What brings you here, noble prince?" he inquired.

Devavrata, with a calm and respectful demeanor, replied, "I have heard about your daughter, Satyavati, and the condition you placed before my father. I wish to understand your concerns."

The fisher king spoke earnestly, "Prince, I am merely Satyavati's foster father. She is the daughter of King Uparichar Vasu and a celestial being. Your father is a worthy suitor, as King Uparichar himself acknowledged. But my concern lies with you. The children born from Satyavati may never find happiness if they cannot surpass you."

Devavrata nodded thoughtfully. "I understand now," he said. "I promise that I will never claim the throne of Hastinapur. The children from Satyavati's womb shall be the rightful rulers. I vow to protect them and the throne with all my might."

The fisher king looked at Devavrata with admiration. "You are truly blessed, young prince. But even if you do not become king, what of your future children? They might lay claim to the throne."

Devavrata's resolve only strengthened. "I shall ensure that my vow holds true, and I will take actions to secure the kingdom for Satyavati's descendants."

The fisher king was moved by Devavrata's commitment, and thus, the path to King Shantanu's happiness began to clear.

Chapter 5: Bhishma's Vow

Devavrata stood tall, his eyes reflecting the determination of his heart. "Listen, Fisher King," he declared, his voice firm and unwavering. "I vow before the sky, the earth, the gods of heaven, and my ancestors that I will never become king and sit on the throne. I will never have children because I will not marry. No one in the world has ever taken such a terrible vow before. I have taken it, and I will keep my word. You can be at peace."

The Fisher King regarded the young prince with a mixture of awe and relief. "I know, Prince," he replied, his voice softened by gratitude. "You are truthful. Your words will never be false. Today, I truly feel at peace. I have no objections to giving Satyavati in marriage to the king."

It was as though the entire cosmos paused to listen to Devavrata's solemn promise. The heavens, the earth, and the underworld were filled with awe. Even I, Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa, bowed in respect to such a monumental vow. With his promise sealed, Devavrata honored his father with a respectful greeting before climbing onto the chariot bound for Hastinapur. From the sky, air, and space, the gods showered down flowers upon him, and they proclaimed that from that day forward, Devavrata would be known as Bhishma, a name that would echo through the ages.

As Bhishma returned to the kingdom with Satyavati by his side, the path was strewn with flowers. Upon reaching Hastinapur, he went straight to King Shantanu and recounted all that had transpired. The king listened, his heart swelling with joy and pride. "My dear Devavrata," King Shantanu exclaimed, "I bless you with the boon of choosing your time of death. You will live as long as you wish. Death will not touch you against your will."

Bhishma bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, Maharaj. I accept your blessing with gratitude. May you live long."

With Satyavati now queen of Hastinapur, she lived happily alongside King Shantanu. In time, two more heirs came into the world: Chitrangada and Vichitravirya, both children of Shantanu and Satyavati. Yet, as is the nature of life, happiness is not eternal. When Vichitravirya was still but a child, King Shantanu passed away, leaving the kingdom in need of guidance.

True to his vow, Bhishma did not claim the throne of Hastinapur. Instead, he dedicated himself to protecting the throne and the royal family. At Queen Satyavati's behest, Bhishma accepted her elder son, Chitrangada, as king. Chitrangada was a brave king, perhaps the bravest of his time, but his courage was matched by his arrogance. He feared neither gods, spirits, nor demons, and he showed them little respect.

The king of the Gandharvas, who shared the same name, decided to teach him a lesson. He approached the king of Hastinapur and challenged him. "Chitrangada," he said, "I am the king of the Gandharvas. We both bear the same name. Either you change your name, or you fight me."

Chitrangada's eyes blazed with indignation. "Who dares such insolence?" he roared. "Do you know who I am? You want me to change my name? Never! I will defeat you and be the only Chitrangada. Let's fight."

Thus, a fierce battle erupted on the banks of the Hiranyavati River in Kurukshetra. For many days, the struggle raged on, but the Gandharva king's strength far surpassed that of Hastinapur's Chitrangada. In the end, the Gandharva king prevailed, and King Chitrangada fell, leaving behind no children. With Vichitravirya still a minor, Bhishma declared him king and took charge of the kingdom's affairs, with Queen Satyavati's guidance.

Years passed, and Vichitravirya grew into a young man, ready to assume the responsibilities of a king. Unlike his grandfather, Vichitravirya was neither arrogant nor strong; he was enamored with beauty. Though he lacked the qualities of a ruler, there was no other choice. The kingdom accepted him as their king, and Bhishma, ever vigilant, contemplated ensuring the future stability of the throne.

One day, Bhishma approached Satyavati with a thoughtful expression. "Greetings, Queen Mother," he said respectfully.

"May you live long and be successful," Satyavati replied. "Is there something important you need?"

"Yes, Queen Mother, it's quite serious," Bhishma began. "King Vichitravirya is now on the throne. We need a queen for Hastinapur and an heir for the throne."

Chapter 6: The Quest for Queens

Satyavati nodded at Bhishma's words, her eyes reflecting the weight of their shared responsibility. "I was thinking the same," she said thoughtfully. "We need to find a suitable princess for our Kuru family. Do you know of any such princess?"

Bhishma's gaze was steady. "Yes, the King of Kashi has announced a ceremony to find husbands for his three daughters. Their names are Amba, Ambalika, and Ambika."

Satyavati's eyes brightened. "These three daughters could be perfect queens for Hastinapur. How about marrying all three to the king? That would be a great idea. Everyone would want Vichitravirya. You should make all the arrangements."

"Please don't be offended, Queen Mother," Bhishma interjected gently, "but I have a different idea."

Curiosity piqued, Satyavati leaned forward. "What are you thinking? Feel free to tell me."

"There is no need for the king to attend that ceremony," Bhishma explained. "Many strong princes from different lands will be there. If the king loses in a show of strength, it won't be good for Hastinapur. Also, the princesses might not choose the king."

Satyavati nodded, understanding the wisdom in his words. "I understand what you're saying. So, what do you want to do, Devavrata?"

"I will go to Kashi myself. I will bring the three princesses to Hastinapur and arrange their marriage with the king. I came to seek your permission for this."

"Very well, let it be so. Go to Kashi as soon as possible."

"I will leave tomorrow. Goodbye, Queen Mother."

"May you live long," Satyavati blessed him.

With Queen Mother Satyavati's permission, Bhishma set out for Kashi the next day. He traveled alone from Hastinapur in a chariot, determined and resolute. When he reached Kashi, he was met with a grand celebration. The princesses were to be married there, and the king had ensured everything was perfect. The royal court was crowded with people, and many princes from different lands had come, all hoping to marry the princesses of Kashi.

At the grand assembly, the names of the kings were being announced one by one. Among the young kings, the name of the elderly Bhishma was also called. Seeing such an old man, the three daughters of the King of Kashi stepped aside. The kings started laughing, mocking Bhishma, wondering why a lifelong bachelor would break his vow at this age. Bhishma could not tolerate this attempt to disgrace him. He stood up with great energy and looked at the kings, speaking in a deep, thunderous voice:

"Listen, noblemen. I am speaking to you. In our society, there are many types of marriage customs. But do you know the best custom for warriors? The greatest warrior tradition is to defeat rival kings in battle and take the bride from the assembly. I am Bhishma, bound by my vow. I have no interest in these maidens. I will not marry. I have come to take these three daughters for the marriage of Maharaja Vichitravirya of Hastinapur. I am taking them right now. Stop me if you can."

The assembly buzzed with murmurs. "Let them go, let them go," some whispered.

In the full assembly, in front of kings from various lands, Bhishma placed the three daughters of the King of Kashi on his chariot. Then he sped towards Hastinapur. The other kings could not accept the insult of Bhishma's boldness at the assembly. Angrily, they stood up and put on their armor. They climbed into their chariots and took up their weapons. Together, they launched an attack to stop Bhishma.

On one side were all the other kings, and on the other was Bhishma alone. Yet, no one could defeat him in battle. He alone cut down all their weapons. No one could harm him even a little. Gradually, the others began to lose to his speed and strength. No one dared to follow him anymore.

Only King Shalya chased after Bhishma with his chariot. The son of Ganga repeatedly asked him to stop. He threw weapon after weapon. But when Bhishma's arrows killed King Shalya's charioteer and horses, Shalya had no choice but to retreat.

Meanwhile, Bhishma brought the three daughters of the King of Kashi to Hastinapur, caring for them like his own daughters-in-law. From the next day, preparations for Maharaja Vichitravirya's wedding began in Hastinapur. Bhishma himself was in charge of this grand event.

Chapter 7: Amba's Plea

As Bhishma made his way through the bustling corridors of Hastinapur, he was stopped by a maid who bowed deeply before him. "Greetings, Grandfather Bhishma," she said respectfully. "Princess Amba of Kashi seeks your audience. What does the princess need from me?"

Bhishma nodded thoughtfully. "Very well," he replied. "She is my guest. Tell her I will come to the guest chamber to meet her myself. Long live the great Bhishma."

The maid hurried off to deliver the message, and Bhishma continued to the guest chamber where Princess Amba awaited him. Upon his arrival, he was greeted with a graceful bow from the princess. "Princess Amba of Kashi," Bhishma acknowledged, his voice warm yet formal. "Please accept my greetings, great Bhishma. If you had asked, I would have come to meet you myself," Amba responded with a hint of surprise.

Bhishma smiled gently. "That wouldn't be right, Princess," he said. "You are a guest of Hastinapur, so it is proper for me to come to you. Do you have any special reason to see me?"

Amba took a deep breath, her eyes earnest. "You want to marry us three sisters to the king of Hastinapur," she began, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "But I beg you, I cannot go through with this marriage. In my heart, I have already accepted King Salya as my husband, and he wishes to marry me too. Even my father, the King of Kashi, agrees to this marriage. So, I cannot marry anyone else."

Bhishma listened intently, his expression thoughtful. "Alright," he said after a moment, his voice calm and measured. "You never do anything wrong. I ask you to do what is right. What will you do, Bhishma? Can Amba ever forgive the person whom the whole world respects as great?"

Meanwhile, in the palace of Hastinapur, whispers and rumors began to stir about the future of the throne. A strange problem was arising—one that would require wisdom and courage to solve. Who would step forward to address this looming challenge?