Note of Terms and Characters:

Mahamahim Bhishma - he was related to both the Kauravas and Pandavas through his half-brother Vichitravirya. He considered them his grandchildren. 'Mahamahim' can be used to refer to individuals with higher rank or excellency (i.e., Your or His Excellency)

Devi - another way to address a goddess. Also used to address women respectfully in the olden times.

"Aahh!!" screamed the youngest Princess of the Kuru family, as she leaped on to the armchair before her to avoid the fuzzy rat that scurried past her feet.

It was another beautiful afternoon in Hastinapura, and all of the royal family members were taking a peaceful nap after a fulfilling lunch meal. Yet, one member, who decided to use this time to explore through unsorted articles placed in one of the castle's many storerooms.

"I really hope there aren't any more of these creepy crawlies in here," she mumbled to herself, as she slowly lowered herself back onto the dusty floor.

Mitra had expected that she would have to maneuver her way around a messy and cluttered room filled with boxes of unused items and dust. But the last thing she expected was the darn rat that whizzed right past her feet. Nothing scared her more than these beastly creatures. Taking in a deep breath and praying to not stumble across any more of its family members, Mitra continued to feel her way through the rows of boxes in the windowless room, illuminated by a single torch.

While shuffling through a series of items in one of the old boxes, Mitra stumbled upon an old oil painting of a handsome young lad, who looked to be within fifteen years of age. A beautiful smile formed on her face, while looking closely at the sharp eyes and the Dhanush tilaka (bow mark) on his forehead. Mitra recognized her young father. Arjun Baba. She let her hand travel over the portrait as it gently caressed the face of the youthful and extremely good looking Gandivadhari.

Is this the man who she had cringed away from that day on the battlefield? Mitra smiled gently as she let herself be sucked back to the memories of Arjuna from the days on the battlefield. Near the Kaurava tent side, on his way to seek Mahamahim Bhishma's blessings. That was the first time Mitra laid eyes on Pandava Prince Arjuna.

She had just left her father's tent to take a stroll along the riverside, which was just past the tent of Bhishma on the outskirts of the camp. Her mother rarely let her away from the house, and definitely nowhere near the battlefield. Yet, her constant pleading to be with her father for a couple of days, had finally pushed Vrushali into giving in to her dear daughter's wish. On her way around Bhishma's tent, Mitra had walked with her eyes downcast, attempting her best to avoid the eyes of passersby. She did not feel comfortable with any of the Kauravas, except Uncle Duryodhana. Completely absorbed in her thoughts of shielding herself from unnecessary stares, Mitra failed to see the warrior who was approaching the tent before her. As her forehead slammed against a rock-hard abdomen, Mitra lost her balance and tightly shut her eyes, bracing herself to hit the hard ground.

"I'm so sorry, Putri. I did not see you coming in front of me. Are you okay?"

Mitra's eyes snapped open to meet the gaze of a mighty warrior staring down at her with concern, and what was that – a tinge of curiosity? She closely studied his features – the sharp eyes and nose, and the distinctive Dhanush tilaka he sported on his forehead. Oh my – this was the third Pandava, and father's archrival, Prince Arjuna. She vaguely registered his strong arm wrapped around her petite form and her tiny hand fisting his angavastra, as her mind became clouded with fear.

"Who are you, Putri? What are you doing on this battlefield?"

Unable to form a coherent response to his question, Mitra struggled to free herself from his hold, wanting nothing more than to place some distance between them. She did not have to struggle much, as she felt his arms loosen around her, which she used as an opportunity to slip away from him, and hurriedly started walking away. Something about him affected her heart, which argued with her mind to turn around at least once to see him before scurrying off. Giving in to her heart's desire, despite the resistance of her mind, Mitra turned around once to glance at the Prince, her father's archrival, to see curiosity remain etched on his features. Yet, the corners of his lips tugged upwards in a small smile as he had regarded her.

The rustling sound around one of the boxes near her, brought her out of her memories and back to the present in the dusty old storeroom. 'Darn it! One of that beastly creature's family members was looming around,' she thought as she shuddered involuntarily. Her attention dropped back to the face on the painting, as a small smile tugged on the corners of her lips. How time brings about the most unexpected changes in life. The man whom she wanted nothing more than to stay away from that day, was now the one whom she could not be away from for even a moment. The warrior whom her heart considered to be nothing more than her father's archrival, has now accepted as her Baba. The man by whom she was now known to the world as Vijaya Nandhini. Mitra lowered her head and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"No matter what, you will always be my Baba. And I will always be your Vijaya Nandhini."

She decided to keep the portrait on the side, to take back with her later to the room. Then once again, she resumed her exploration of the artifacts in the different boxes, while simultaneously keeping an eye out for the fuzzy creatures. While going through one of the boxes, her hands came across a box-like item, that seemed to be wrapped by leather. She pulled it out and walked towards the torch light, to see what it was. It felt like some sort of a leather-bound book. As the light of the torch illuminated the surface, Mitra gasped as she read the name on the cover. In beautiful and perfect scroll writing, the text on the cover read a name that affected some part of Mitra's heart, from a specific day at Kurukshetra till this minute. 'Abhimanyu.'

Her throat dried up and her heart rate quickened as she realized what she was holding in her hands. A diary. The diary of one of the youngest, yet greatest warriors to have lived and walked this very Earth. Diary of Rajkumar Abhimanyu.

Mitra shut her eyes as various images popped in her thoughts. With a shuddering breath, she let go of the restraint she held on that specific memory, as it once again took her four years back. To that day on the land of Kurukshetra, which will forever stay etched in her memory.

Mitra paid no notice to her wheezing, as she sprinted non-stop away from the Kaurava camp and towards the riverside. She wanted nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between the Pandava prince Arjuna and herself. She forced her heart to stop thinking of the smile she saw on his face, as her mind chastised it for even thinking about developing a soft corner for her father's enemy. When she was positive that she had reached a far enough distance from the camp, and her searching eyes were able to see the blue of the waters some feet away, she slowed down her run to a fast paced walk. Completely absorbed in thinking about how and when to return to the camp, without bumping into Arjuna again, Mitra yelped as an arrow flew by right before her face, missing her nose by just an inch – violently pulling her out of her thoughts.

Unable to react properly, due to the shock of having escaped death by a mere few inches, Mitra placed her hand above her vigorously thumping heart – attempting to calm its pace.

"Devi,I'm so sorry! I did not see you come in the way!"

Mitra slowly turned her head to meet the gaze of a young warrior, whom she had never seen or heard of before. He appeared to be just a few years older than herself. Little did she know, that she would soon know him to be one of the greatest warriors who had given up his life while fighting for the establishment of dharma in the great Mahabharata battle.

She held her hands together, fidgeting with her fingers, as she contemplated running away. He was standing a fair distance away from her, which would give her plenty of time to run for safety. Then, why were the deepest depths of her heart pleading with her to remain there? First of all, he was a stranger. A warrior as well. And, he had shot an arrow that had nearly missed her head by an inch. Weren't these reasons enough for her mind to win in the argument against her heart and have her sprinting back to the camp by now? Then why was her mind losing to her heart again? Why was she still standing fixed to the spot as the stranger hesitantly took a step closer to her?

"Devi, you do not have to be afraid of me. I did not mean to shoot that arrow at you. I was only practicing."

The sane part of Mitra, led by her mind, kept screaming at her internally to run away from there without sparing a glance back at him. 'He could have killed you! Or even worse, he might still kill you! Just run!' her brain screamed at her. Yet the insane part of her, headed by her heart, pleaded otherwise. 'Listen to me. Do you feel that he can or will hurt you? No, right? So, what's the need to run away?' her heart whispered to her, as her mind grumbled incoherent thoughts.Trying to silence them both for a few seconds, Mitra shivered as the deepest depths of her being, her soul, tried to communicate something to her which remained incomprehensible. He was a complete stranger and he was armed. Then, why did she feel as if though she were only standing before either her Vrishasen or Vrishaketu while they were practicing archery? Why did she feel a brotherly vibe radiating from his being?

"Devi, I've never seen you before. Who are you, and where are you from?"

Mitra's eyes snapped up in shock as she realized the owner of the voice was now only standing a foot away from her. With her breathing turning irregular again, and her forehead starting to break out into a sweat, she knew her mind was starting to gain the upper hand in the battle. Seeing him take one more step closer to her, with his arm reached out, Mitra gave her mind the victory it desired, while spinning around on her heals and dashing away from the spot.

"Devi, wait! You don't need to fear me!"

She heard him loud and clearly, but her mind was in no place to give up its winning streak. With her heart thudding loudly and sweat beads breaking out on her forehead, Mitra had sprinted back towards the camp site without sparing a single glance back at the boy, who despite remaining a stranger, had ignited a very familiar feeling in her heart.

A drop of water coming into contact with her hand holding the diary, brought Mitra back out of her memory lane to the present. She absentmindedly swept the back of her palm against her cheek, wiping away the tracks of the lone tear that had escaped her eye. Who was this Abhimanyu? What was he like? What was his relationship like with Draupadi Maa? With Subhadra Maa? With the Pandavas? With her Baba? She desperately attempted to ignore the pangs she felt as her last question unconsciously pulled at one of her heart strings. Would the answers to her questions be found in this diary?

Mitra inhaled a shaky breath as her trembling fingers grasped the leather-bound cover of the antique-looking book, and lifted it open.

To be Continued...

Hi Everyone! Here is the first part of Abhimanyu's Diary - I hope you all enjoyed it! Please do comment your thoughts about it, including what you feel might be coming up - I'd love to hear what's going on in your minds :) And please do vote if you feel it's worthy!

Thank you for all your patience, support and love!

Loads of love,

Geitha