Glossary:

Terms/Concepts:

*Murali – the name of Krishna's flute

*Rukmini Haran – the scene encompassing the planned abduction of Rukmini by Krishna, to prevent her forced marriage with Shishupala (an arrogant King who despised Krishna)

*Haara – a medium-long length necklace worn by members of the Indian royal or upper-class families. A piece of jewellery that many South Asian women now wear with traditional attire.

*Prahar – Sanskrit term for unit of time (approximately 3 hours)

*Vidaai – one of the rituals of a traditional Indian wedding where the bride bids farewell to her family and maternal home

*Braj Bhoomi – the land of Braj, where Shri Krishna spent his childhood

*Vaikuntha – the celestial abode of Lord Vishnu

Characters in this part:

*Yama – the Hindu God of death and dharma (righteousness)

*Devi Revati – wife of Shri Balarama; sister-in-law of Shri Krishna

*Pradyumna – the eldest son of Sri Krishna and Devi Rukmini

*Sambara – the demon who abducted Pradyumna within the first few days of his birth

*Sairandhri – the form adorned by Draupadi, as the expert maid of Queen Sudeshna (wife of King Virata), during the 13th(agyatavas year) of their exile

*Drupada Kanya – another name of Draupadi meaning 'the daughter of King Drupada'

*Yagyaseni – another name of Draupadi meaning 'the one born from the yagya or sacrificial fire'

*Samragyi – another name of Draupadi meaning 'Empress'

*Nithyayuvani – another name of Draupadi meaning 'the one who remains young forever'

*Swaha – the consort of Agni (the Hindu God of Fire)

*Agnikanya – refers to Draupadi (maiden of fire)

*Suryakanya – refers to Mitra (maiden of Lord Surya's lineage)

*Vrushali – the biological mother of Mitra; wife of Karna

*Yashomathi Maiya – another name for Mother Yashodha (foster mother of Shri Krishna)

Names of Krishna used in this part:

*Madhava – meaning the 'Lord of fortune – Mahalakshmi (mother of the universe); also slayer of the demon Madhu

*Vasudeva Krishna– son of Vasudeva (Kunti's brother)

*Gopala – meaning 'protector of cows and all living beings'

*Kanhaji -the one who we are able to lean on and share our burdens with

*Bihari – the one who loves to play

*Hari – the one who takes away the burden of sins and frees one from the cycle of birth and death

*Narayana – refers to Maha Vishnu in his yogic slumber on the celestial waters of the Ksheer Sagara (ocean of milk)

*Shyamasundara – 'cloud-colourd' (dark-skinned) beautiful one

Names of Arjuna used in this part:

*Partha – meaning 'son of Pritha (birth name of Kunti)'

*Gandivadhari – meaning 'wielder of the Gandhiva bow'

*Brihannala – the name and eunuch form adorned by Arjuna during the 13thyear exile of the Pandavas spent incognito; he spent this year teaching music and dance to Uttara

*Dhananjaya – meaning 'the one who conquered wealth and gold'

*Mahabahu – the one with the strong/mighty arms

*Vijaya – meaning 'always victorious or undefeatable'

*Savyasachi – meaning 'the one who can shoot his arrows with both hands'

*Shwethavahana – meaning the 'one with the milky white horses mounted to his pure white chariot'

"Yes, this one! This lehenga choli will look beautiful on you, my dear!" exclaimed Draupadi as she carefully added the elaborately woven attire to the growing pile of lehengas on the bed.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed in through the opened windows, as the maids hurriedly rushed around, accommodating the Chakravarthini's orders as they assembled the selected attires to be packed. It had been a few hours since the amusing and heart-warming conversation, or one could call debate, that had taken place in the sitting room. A small smile bloomed against the pretty pink lips of the young princess as she played the words of both her father and Madhava over again in her mind.

~~~

"I'm afraid I cannot send Mitra to Dwaraka right now, Madhava," stated a firm Gandivadhari, as he avoided the eyes of his Sakha and others gathered.

"What do you mean by 'right now,' Partha?" smirked Krishna, as he keenly observed the fidgeting Arjuna. "You've never sent her to Dwaraka before."

Arjuna met the eyes of Madhava, with his own pleading ones, mentally requesting him to understand a father's plight at spending days away from his dear one. Mitra, who had snuggled herself into the arms of Yudhishthira, who caressed her hair with utmost affection, watched the conversation intently with her widening doe eyes – curious to see who would gain the upper hand in this silent battle. Madhava? Or his Partha?

"Madhava, you know it's not that I do not want to send her to Dwaraka. It's just...she has never been away from the palace, from us, for this long."

Bhima fervently nodded his head in approval – agreeing with the words of his younger brother. Never had their angel left their peripheral vision for more than a few hours. Even when she went to visit her paternal grandparents (Karna's parents), it would only be for the day. She would run back into the arms of Arjuna by dusk, unable to stay away from the Kuru family. She knew that no one would have bothered to touch their meals, and even the appetite of Vrikodhara would be lost, till they were able to hear the jingling of her anklets in the hallways once again.

"If you're worried about her safety, Partha, she will not be alone. Both Subhadra and Uttara will be with her," coaxed Krishna as he willed a smile to further brighten his godly features. "And I assure you, no harm will reach her in my presence. I will put myself before her to protect her."

Arjuna's horror-stricken orbs snapped up to meet the determined ones of Krishna. He briefly shut his eyes, in a feeble attempt to block the rush of thundering tears against his lids.

"Safety, Madhava? Do you believe I would ever question her safety in your presence?" came the shaky voice of Arjuna, as a soft and knowing smile tugged on the corners of his Gopala's rosebud like lips. One gaze of his was sufficient to shield its recipient from the clutches of the God of death, Yama, himself. Then what to speak of the affectionate engulfment within his very own arms. It was the epitome of safety for the surrendered soul.

"Then what hesitates you to send her to Dwaraka, Partha?"

"She barely eats, Madhava! Draupadi has to forcefully feed morsels of food at each meal," replied Arjuna, as he feverishly hunted for one excuse after another to strengthen his stance.

Krishna threw back his head, chortling uncontrollably. Yet, the ability to distinguish the sound from the notes of the Murali remains a challenge. It was beyond difficult to restrain against the pull of the attracted senses, as they yearned to merge as one with the melodious sound.

"My dear, Partha. I'm afraid I will have to dispel this worry of yours, as Subhadra will be there to feed Mitra. And my wives and dear sister-in-law will be more than ecstatic to shower their love on their most doted niece, whom they are very much eager to meet."

Despite the weariness that came with falling short of words once again to counter the responses of his Sakha, a memorable smile bloomed itself on the lips of Arjuna, as the words of Madhava's chief queen from years ago during the 'Rukmini Haran' found their way to the frontline of his memories. 'Brother Arjuna, I give you my word. If you ever father a daughter, I'm going to pamper and embellish the princess, that even this Brihannala's beauty will have to bow down before her!'

His mind had absolutely no doubt that Krishna's revered Ashtabharya will each, along with Sister Revati, be another mother for his dear Mitra. Yet, the heart of a father longed to keep his child as near to himself as possible.

"But, Madhava-"

"I know, Partha! Mitra is always tucked into bed by you and her petal lids refuse to seal without a good night kiss and story from you," cut in Krishna, grinning ear to ear. "You and I are considered one, are we not? So, I will be there to complete these tasks for you."

With his shoulders slumped in retreat, Arjuna's lips formed a thin-lipped smile as his heart, without a choice caved to the berating of the logical mind in tune with the words of Krishna.

"Alright, Madhava. If you say so, then it shall be that way."

The playful smirk slipped away from the features of the Lord, as with the carefree banter, as he walked up to Arjuna and clasped his shoulders. Providing his silent conveyance of support and understanding towards the unstated words of Partha through his grasp itself. The ever merciful Kanhaji, who forever gains credit for his name as 'Bihari' through his endless pulling of his devotees' legs, never fails to encircle them within his comforting embrace, when mere words are insufficient to express the ache of the heart.

"You do not need to struggle to bare your heart to me, Partha. Will I not understand the words uttered by what is truly mine?" he smiled as he laid a reddened palm over the pad of skin sheathing the beating organ of Dhananjaya.

"Madhava," whispered Arjuna with downcast eyes.

"I can understand the pain of the father's heart when anticipating the separation from his child, Partha. I myself have fathered many as well, yet even if one among them is taken away from me, even for a short duration of time, the ache experienced by the heart is unbearable," murmured Krishna, as his unfocused gaze indicated the sudden submersion of his mind within the painful memory of an incident that had taken place many years ago in Dwaraka.

A tear of understanding slipped the watery gaze of Arjuna, rolling down the ridged path of his stubbled jaw, as he remembered the unimaginable pain experienced by his Madhava and Devi Rukmini years ago. The separation from their first born, their son Pradyumna, who had been abducted immediately within days of his birth by the heartless demon Sambara. Only to meet him once again many years later, as a married man.

"Yes, it is important to understand our parental instincts, which signify the need to shelter our young ones under the protective shield of our wings. But it is undeniably just as important to allow them the freedom to fly. As only when they are given the freedom to fly, are they able to make decisions and act upon them – thereby creating the foundations of their lives and paving way for brighter, self-chosen futures. That does not mean that we will ever have to abandon our beloved young ones. We will always be present on the ground, our arms outstretched, to catch them as they fall. As a result of what some may consider mistakes – which I prefer to term as lessons. Only to boost them back into the air, once again towards their journey of exploration in life. As silent supporters, we will always be there, Partha."

While his one hand caressed the cheek of Arjuna, who nodded in understanding, the lotus eyes of Krishna shifted towards Mitravinda – holding her gaze as he continued to address all those in the room.

"Not all questions of life can be answered. That is just the way it is, as it helps maintain balance and makes each day of life worth living. The search for certain answers becomes the driving force of our lives. Our quest to finding these answers ceases when we are able to find the closure our hearts have been seeking from time. Once you do find it, acknowledge, accept and cherish it – whether you see it as a mistake or not. Regardless, it is a blessing in disguise. Then treasure the sweet memory and continue forward on your journey."

Mitra felt a tremor erupt through her petite body, as the impact of Krishna's pearls of wisdom etched themselves a permanent position within her heart. The organ which ached with an unexplainable pain at witnessing the plight of her Arjun Baba, who was half-heartedly agreeing to send her away. Even she herself could not swallow the reality of being away from him, or the rest of her loving family. But Krishna was right. She needed to find her closure, the answer to the final question regarding her relationship with Brother Abhimanyu, which has been haunting her mind since the days back on the fields of Kurukshetra.

"I feel Mitra may also find the closure she seeks during her stay at Dwaraka," came the voice of Krishna, breaking the princess' trail of thoughts, and successfully bringing her back to the present. "That is if you all are agreeable to sending her."

"I have no concerns, Vasudeva," came the calm voice near the soft curls of Mitra, catching the attention of the princess, who glanced up towards the reassuring eyes of Yudhishthira. "The choice is yours, Putri. By all means if you'd like to visit Dwaraka with Subhadra and Uttara, that is what will happen."

From the reassurance-filled orbs of her eldest uncle, Mitra shifted her gaze to lock with the emotion-restrained ones of her Baba. Without any words, she silently disentangled herself from the encirclement of Yudhishthira's arms, with the latter well aware of his niece's unvoiced thoughts. With a small smile lighting her sharp eyes, Mitra found herself walking towards the anchor of her life as Vijaya Nandhini, and wrapped her arms around his torso, her rosy cheek pasted against the multi-chained golden 'haara' adorning the neck of Dhananjaya. Words uttered by the lips remained unimportant, in the presence of the beats of the heart that communicated its desperation, via the rhythmic thumping to the small, yet sharp ear pasted against it. And the tightening of the petite arms around the torso of Mahabahu – silently communicating their restlessness to the Kuru warrior.

After what seemed like the duration of a prahar, yet only the passage of mere minutes, Arjuna unwound his arms and cupped the moon-like cheeks of Mitra, lifting her head to meet his gaze.

"Would you like to visit Dwaraka, my dear?"

"Only if you are okay with it, Baba," she replied, as she laid her palm over the calloused hand of Arjuna resting against her soft cheek.

The longing orbs of Vijaya softened as they regarded his dear daughter. The light of his life. The Daanveer Putri who had become a Vijaya Nandhini in the process of guiding his darkened life back towards the light, promising a brighter future, post the tragic battle of Kurukshetra. He could not survive mere hours away from her presence before his eyes. How would he endure the pain of separation for days? Yet, his trust in Madhava's words was unbreakable and will remain so. If Madhava felt this was necessary, then there must be a strong reason behind it. And what closure was his young one seeking for? The one who had brought them all the closures their hearts yearned for, herself was seeking one? What could it be? Whatever it may be, she deserved it just as much as they all had, and he would not allow himself or his protectiveness to pose as a barrier in her journey.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, Putri," spoke Arjuna, simultaneously breaking the silence, while providing the indirect permission her heart yearned for.

Mitra grasped the large hand holding her cheek, in between her fragile one, as she brought it towards her lips. Pressing the soft pinkness of hers against his calloused palm, she replied, "Only if you promise to take care of yourself in the meantime. When I return, I shall resume that responsibility of mine once again!"

As a watery chuckle escaped his chapped lips, Arjuna pulled his young one into the secure confines of his arms once again, as he allowed his stubble-coated cheek to rest against the soft ebony hair of her head.

"I will, my love. But that is by no means an indication for you to spend more days away from me," he chuckled, as he pressed a chaste kiss against the baby hairs patterning her hairline. "Come back soon."

"I will, Baba."

~~~

"You will what, my dear?"

Mitra snapped out of her thoughts to witness the kohl-lined, blazing eyes of the Chakravarthini watching her with amusement.

"Maa?"

"You kept repeating 'I will,'" chuckled Draupadi as she finished folding the last of the lehengas to be packed. "What did you mean?"

Despite the maids available at all times, the royal family preferred to do everything themselves for their doted princess. Not paying heed to her continuous whining of being old enough to get ready on her own, both queens of Hastinapura would refuse to abandon the opportunity in awaiting her as they would a child. With Draupadi, from her experience as Sairandhri, braiding her hair in unique styles and Subhadra working her magic on creating crisp pleats, while draping the doll in her lehenga or sari.

"I was remembering how I told Baba I'll return back soon."

"I hope you were serious while promising that, Putri!" chuckled Draupadi, as she turned away from Mitra, facing the opened rosewood almirah, her hands nervously fidgeting among the neatly folded shawls.

"Maa, what are you doing?" questioned Mitra, as she observed her elder mother sorting through the shawls that had been neatly pressed and stored away.

"Just organizing these shawls, my dear! It's in a state of disarray," replied an absentminded Empress, as her hands continued to create a mess of the neatly folded work of the maids.

Without another word, Mitra silently stood up from the plush bed, and walked towards her mother, who was muttering incomprehensible words. Something about the maids not folding clothing properly. As she laid her palm against the soft skin of Panchali's forearm, Mitra sensed the muscles of Drupada Kanya tense for a brief moment.

"What is it, Putri? Did you need something?" questioned Draupadi, still facing her back to the young princess.

"Maa, are you alright?"

"Of course, I am," she chuckled, which would have easily fooled many, but not the keenly observant Vijaya Nandhini who knew the soft-hearted nature of her elder mother, hidden behind the 'Queenly' mask that succesfully hid her emotions to the world.  

"Maa," called out Mitra once again. "Have I committed a mistake?"

"Of course not!" brushed off Draupadi, body language clearly indicating her refusal to face the princess. She could not allow her daughter to witness her face. Witness the yearning of a mother's heart breaking her from within.

"Maa," murmured the anxious voice of Mitra, as she clutched the forearm of her elder mother and yanked, causing Draupadi to turn. Within a blink of an eye, Mitra felt herself engulfed in a bone-crushing embrace, her face buried against the layers of heavily designed neckpieces, pasted against the raw silk of the shawl shielding the bosom of the Empress of Aaryavarta. The fingers, adorned by ruby and diamond encrusted rings, shakily caressed the curly locks of Vijaya Nandhini, pulling her tighter into her embrace. As her sight of the golden thread-embroidered lillies woven against the chillie-red silk began to blur, Mitra, with a sharp inhale of breath, registered the welling of her chocolate brown orbs - as she let herself sink into the affectionate engulfment of her elder mother.

"Promise me you'll return soon," choked the teary voice of Draupadi, finally breaking the silence. Pressing a soft kiss against the luscious curls of the petite head in her arms, which had begun to dampen with the tears shed by the flame-like eyes of Yagyaseni, she further spoke, "I know you will have a mother there with you, but do not allow yourself to forget that there is another mother here. Anxiously awaiting her child's return. Awaiting the return of her Sakhi who has become her breath of existence."

Mitra pulled back and allowed her small palms to softly grasp the sharply contoured jaws of Samragyi Draupadi. The empress of Aaryavarta herself. The pure one born of the consort of 'Swaha' - known to the universe as 'Agni.' Agni – the Lord of Fire – the Sanskrit name arising from the three root verbs respectively – i (a) meaning 'to go,' anj (g) meaning 'to shine' or 'to burn,' and ni meaning 'to lead.' And the maiden who had taken her existence from this 'tejas' of creation had carved herself a revered position in history based on these root verbs. One woman the world will remember for eons to come, as the 'Fireborn Queen' who had shone among many, with her unique flaming beauty, as one of the tragic female protagonists of the Mahabharata. The one who had played her role well, under the guidance of the Almighty, in the burning of dynasties of adharma, and led the survivors towards a brand-new era of rightly established dharma.

Burning hot droplets of surrender slipped the edges of her flaming eyes, smudging the richly-lined paste of kohl, in response to the soothing caress experienced by the heart that had withstood years of pain – as the lips of Vrushali Putri pressed against her forehead furrows.

"I promise, Maa," murmured the sweet lips as they brushed against the softness of Nithyayuvani's skin. "I promise I will return to you as soon as I can. Even this child cannot bear the separation from the arms of her Sakhi Maa."

As the unshed tears, burning against her open lids, threatened to spill over and commence their journey down the slope of her rosy cheeks, Mitra buried her face in the curve of Draupadi's elongated neck. The restlessness of her daughter did not require verbal communication to the Queen, who was able to discern their silent yearning via the endless wetness pooling against the skin of her lower neck. The silent walls of the chamber, now free of maids, along with the rays of the late afternoon sun, were the sole witnesses to the motherly yearning of Agnikanya as she embraced the light of her life, her Suryakanya.

~~~

With the dorsal side of her soft hand, Mitra brushed back the lock of hair that had escaped the confines of her braid, to fall and now stick against the clear drops of perspiration littering her porcelain forehead. The humidity in the air was unbearable today. And the intensity of Lord Surya's rays, as if though he were marvelling at the turn of events, were making it utmost difficult to sit put dressed in layers of raw silk. As much as she enjoyed basking in the light of the sun, it was times like this when her heart secretly wished for a downpour of fresh rainfall – rejuvenating the lands blessed by the loving warmth of her forefather. And if possible, which was highly unlikely being the princess of the Kuru dynasty, to dress as a commoner in more breathable clothing while travelling. 

Almost half a prahar had passed, since the two chariots had departed from the gates of Hastinapura palace, embarking the journey towards Dwaraka. With Uttara and Pariskhit occupying one and Mitra, along with her partner in crime, in the other. Mitra had coaxed Subhadra into accompanying Uttara, as her sister-in-law would need assistance in watching after the usually soft-natured, yet occasionally trouble-making toddler, who had taken on to the Yadava clan in the 'natkhat' trait.

Bidding goodbye, even if for some days, proved to be a difficult task in the midst of her exceptionally affectionate family. 

Bhima had masked his sorrow behind the huge grin he sported while handing her a silk pouch of laddoos that would last her for days – claiming that it was a 'small' snack for the duration of the travel. Sahadeva had packed one of his most interesting books on astronomical history in case she felt idle during the voyage. As much as Mitra rather felt idle while pouring through his endless supply of historical texts, the adoration she held for the heartwarming smile that stretched across his lips each time he brought new books for her, illuminated her features with a glow of pure joy. Yudhishthira, despite his success at maintaining a calming stance, had failed at hiding the watery glaze spreading its reign across the surface of his soft orbs – spelling the prickling of his heart to his most doted niece, who hugged him with swelling love. He had pressed his lips to her temple, a silent indication of his love as he blessed her with a safe and happy journey.

Krishna had comically mentioned his amusement at witnessing Arjuna not fret about his departure for the very first time, as he had grinningly watched his dearest Partha ensnare his daughter in a bone-crushing embrace. As she felt the ever-soft pecks of affection against her crown, Mitra had buried herself in the warmth of her Arjun Baba – inhaling and reveling in her favourite scent – the dusky saffron and sandalwood fragrance of Savyasachi. Some days? Even a prahar apart from one another was equivalent to a century.

Nakula, being his jovial teasing self, had refused to give up his opportunity to pull the legs of the father-daughter duo, as he smirkingly piped up saying, 'It's not like she's getting married right now, Brother. Though you both shall be rewarded for accurately enacting the scene of how her future 'Vidaai' shall take place.' While earning himself a smack on the back of his head by Vrikodhara, Nakula had pulled Mitra away from Arjuna and into his arms. 'Make sure to learn some new pranks from Vasudeva that you and I can play on these boring people once you return!' he had whispered, masking his burning tears with tightly shut lids, as he pressed a chaste kiss against her forehead. The endless pulling of legs and witty remarks, masked by the façade of pure humour, were never abundant to hide the reservoir of selfless love Queen Madri's eldest son held for his loved ones.

"The climate is quite humid today, is it not?" came the musical voice, jolting Mitra out of her thoughts, as she felt the brush of pure silk against her temple.

She glanced up with a smile to see her companion using the edge of his elegantly embroidered angavastra to dab at the beads of perspiration that had broken out across her forehead. The honorable garment blessed to clothe the upper body of the Lord himself – earning itself the name 'Shreshta Vastra' meaning the highly regarded garment adorned by Narayana, was now being used by Shri Hari himself to wipe away the drops of mere human perspiration. An unsolvable puzzle he was. A child in one moment and a mother in the next. Amidst these sweet administrations, how was one supposed to constantly remind oneself that he or she was in the presence of the Almighty himself?

"Simple. Don't remind yourself!" he chuckled.

Cracking the deepest secret of creation itself is highly impossible. One sees the Lord for who he is, based on how the Lord desires to be seen. Through the lens of pure and selfless love. Lose yourself and your actions in his love, as did Yashomathi Maiya and the other eternal residents of Braj Bhoomi. Like them, you shall also be blessed see him for who he really is – the most ethereal form of beauty and unconditional love.

The lotus eyes that hold the complete power to view and sustain the three worlds in a single glance, failed in one task since time immemorial - to distinguish between the living beings of this universe. Neither devotee nor non-devotee. Neither wealthy nor poor. Caste nor status. Culture nor religion. Language nor ethnicity. Age nor gender. Scholarly nor illiterate. Human nor animal. These eyes see all as one and as their own. They wholeheartedly accept all for who or what they are. If this is not love, then name me what is – I shall wait.

"Stop reading my mind, Madhava," Mitra childishly reprimanded, earning a soft chuckle from him, as she let her head rest against his broad shoulder, and wrapped her petite arms around his sculpted forearm.

"Blame your mind voice, Priya," he grinned. "It's quite loud and clear, I'm sure I can hear it all the way from Dwaraka."

"Is that so?" countered Mitra with a smirk on her pristine features.

"Any doubt?" he grinned back. 'Not just yours, but all mind voices, my Krishna Priya. Be it Dwaraka dham, or from the planets of Vaikuntha, I hear you all. As we are connected for eternity.'

"None," she chuckled as she went back to staring absentmindedly at the passing scenery of bright greenery they were currently travelling through. "How much longer till we reach Dwaraka, Madhava?"

"Some more hours, Priya. Feel free to rest till then," replied Krishna as he stroked her head resting on his shoulder.

Mitra inhaled the strong fragrance of sandalwood, wafting from the dark complexion of Shyamasundara, as she allowed the petals shielding her eyes to close for some time. At last, she was making her journey towards seeking the answer to the question that has been clawing her from within. Brother Abhimanyu. A soft smile lit up her pearl-like face as his profile appeared in the darkness before her closed eyes. 'I'm coming, Brother,' she thought.

As if on response, a strong gust of wind – completely unexpected amidst the heavy humid air, blew through the trees lining the path of their journey, loosening a single white daisy housed on one of the heightened branches. As if ordered to take flight and find residence with the individual it was being sent for, the single flower detached itself from its previous home, and floated down with the current of the breeze – finding accommodation in the white lehenga-covered lap of Shwethavahana's daughter.

The soft petals of the princess fluttered open to witness the white petaled daisy laying idle on her lap, calm once again in the absence of the gusts of the sudden wind. With trembling fingers, Mitra found herself grasping the precious flower, stroking the softness of the petals, as her vision blurred with the onset of tears triggered by the secret symbolism. The relationship shared with the daisy, based on the name of one specific individual. As her lids shut once more, preventing the burning tears from spilling forth, she allowed her mind to once again race back in time. To relive once more, the second and final meeting with Subhadra Nandhan Abhimanyu.

To Be Continued...

And that was Part XIV of the Abhimanyu's Diary series - hope you all enjoyed it! Mitra is finally on route to finding the answer she seeks, and we will be visiting Dwaraka soon! Please do comment your thoughts - I'd love to hear them :) And please do vote if you feel it's worthy!

Loads of love,

Geitha