The old man lies on his death bed.. Nostalgia In his eyes The fate of Bharat's greatest warrior Is to sleep on A bed of arrows and hear wails & cries A young man walks over to him Wearing a shining armor of gold Looking at his grandfather The sadness of his eyes increases a hundred fold The old man knows something is wrong when he hears muffled cries To see this warrior, who wears the shining armor of gold A part of him dies The young warrior now knew of the secret The grandfather and his mother had hidden for years.. They had known how much agony it had caused him Then why didn't it melt their fears? The old man looks at the warrior His heart full of love He then asks for forgiveness As the warrior looks into the emptiness above An alternate universe he thought He'd live like a king with his five brothers able to justify his love for paanchali Under the loving gaze of his mother I see her younger self now Bent over a river So much pain in her eyes I can see her shiver Looking at her like that Makes me forget it all The pain, humiliation and agony I had felt That I realize would now bring A terrible downfall "I want to stop this war Oh Pitah maha" I said with a start My destiny had again put me in a situation where I was in conflict with my already broken heart I was too late to step back now There was a terrible weight on my heart I was pitted against my brothers This hate was the reason we would fall apart The old man smiled sadly now His words very clear He knew this familiar feeling A result of being pitted against someone so dear I then made up my mind I was going to fight from the kaurava side It was his salt that indebted me forever Even if it meant opposing my own blood in this ghastly collide I shivered at the memory of paanchali's humiliation She had looked at me with pleading eyes I could have stopped this destruction long back Is something I now regret to realize As I walk back to the Kuru camp that night I know this story was written well before time.. As the good looking & dark complexioned king, who loved peacock feathers, had once said Aren't we all pawns in the hands of time? Whatever the end of this troublesome story I didn't care about it anymore For the biggest question of my existence was now solved I just had to fulfill one last chore And as the sun started rising up the horizon I started stringing my bow I knew this feeling should have dissolved last night Who is the best archer? Today the world would know
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