"Karna!!!" cried a lone voice as an elderly woman sat up straight on the bed, with unkept hair and scattered sheets around her.

As the endless tears streaming down her cheeks turned into full blown sobs, Raja Maatha Kunti struggled to hold on to sanity before being whipped away by another mental breakdown. One, two, three, she couldn't keep count anymore. She could not remember how many emotional breakdowns she had suffered from since the closure of the battle. Since her Karna's death.

Struggling to catch a breath of fresh air, Kunti stumbled out of bed, knocking down a vase on her bedside table in the process. She maneuvered her way through her chamber, occasionally bumping into artifacts arranged to provide a beautiful décor, as she rushed towards the balcony. Her hands tightly gripped the metal railings as she took deep gasps of air, trying to not only fill her lungs, but clear her mind as well. With a heart-shattering sob escaping her lips, Pritha let herself sink to the cold floor as she rested her head against the bar.

She was no longer complete, as she had sacrificed a part of herself to the battle that stole the lives and peace of many. Her Karna was gone. Her first born. A son she failed to acknowledge to the world, till his last remaining breaths. She had lost him in the battle. And the miserable part was that she had knowingly lost him. One mistake. One mistake was all it took to turn her life upside down into a living hell all her life.

It was another rise of dawn in the kingdom of Hastinapura, as a young adolescent girl stood alone at the banks of the Ganga River, offering her salutations and morning prayers to the light of her lineage, Lord Surya Narayana. It has been a couple of years now since the great Mahabharata battle. She felt herself unloading any traces of worry or burden in her heart along with the water, which she poured from the small brass kalasha in her hands into the waters of the Ganga as she worshipped her forefather. Standing directly below his emanating rays of light, Mitra felt at absolute peace, as if he were smiling down at her. She knew her father was up there above, with Surya Narayana, and both fathers were watching with joy, the flower of their lineage now blooming in the Kuru dynasty under the care of the Pandavas.

A brand-new day for all of Hastinapura, but yet another day of being prisoned in the past for the Raja Maatha of the kingdom. Kunti found herself walking along the shores of the Ganga, as she usually did every morning before the rest of the palace woke, to be left alone in her thoughts for some time. Like every other morning, her lost gaze fell upon the outline of the young princess from a distance. Standing at the banks of the Ganga, holding the kalasha of water as an offering to Lord Surya, Mitra brought forth her father's memory. This image took Kunti back to the days before the great war, where she would silently observe Karna stand at the exact same place, completing his morning prayers to the Sun, oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

This place was not only the site which filled her aching heart with some joy by seeing her eldest son, but it was also the place where she had broken his precious heart into pieces with the truth. Kunti closed her eyes and let her mind take her back to that bittersweet day where she had finally come clean with the truth to her eldest son, while simultaneously breaking his trust in her.

"I have been near you for so long now. So many years. Why have you chosen to reveal the truth to me today, and not earlier, Raja Maatha?"

Hearing him address her as Raja Maatha and not "Maa" wounded her heart to a depth that she believed was not possible. But she knew she deserved it. She deserved to bear every bit of his hatred and despise. What kind of a mother would abandon her newborn, and further fail to acknowledge him as her son after meeting him years later?

"Son, I know you have faced so much humiliation and problems all your life, because of my actions. But please, just listen to me once. I was in a situation where my hands were tied back," she had pleaded with him.

Karna had given her a small sad smile, as he regarded the mother who had given him life prior to her marriage, and had abandoned him to protect her father's reputation. He stared at the mother who even after meeting him many years later, and staying within the same palace as him, had moulded her heart into a stone and prevented herself from revealing the truth – considering the fate of the Pandavas.

"You will never be able to justify what I have faced in my life because of you, Raja Maatha. Leave it. What has happened has happened. Neither you, nor I, will ever be able to travel back in time and alter either of our actions. You will never be able to go back and acknowledge me as your son to the world, and I will never be able to break my loyalty against my friend, Duryodhana."

Tears ran down Kunti's eyes as she realized how the situation was completely beyond either of their hands now. The dreams she had harboured of having her six sons together, came shattering before her eyes as Karna walked away from her.

A distance away from her, Karna turned around one last time and stared at his mother to his heart's content. He had struggled to keep his voice steady and his tears in check as he spoke.

"Please do not reveal my identity to anyone, especially the Pandavas. You have kept it a secret thus far, so please let it remain as one. I will spare your four sons in the battle, but not Arjuna. Either I will kill Arjuna, or he will be the death of me. Either way you will have five sons remaining in the end, Raja Maatha. Your family will be complete, Maa."

With that, he turned around once again and walked away from his mother. The mother who had given birth to a precious gem, but silently witnessed it fall in murky waters, losing its shine to the world.

"Karnaaaa!"

"Grandmother! What's wrong? What happened to you?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks and her heart-wrenching sobs made her gasp for air, as Kunti came out of her memory and recognized Mitra by her side holding her arm, with concern etched on her beautiful features. As her legs gave up on her, unable to support the extra burden caused by the unbearable grief, Kunti sunk to the sandy ground.

She cupped Mitra's cheeks in her hands and stared intently with a tear-blurred vision, as she recognized the sharp features. She saw her Karna standing before her. Before Mitra could register what was happening, Kunti hugged Mitra tightly with her forehead resting against her throat.

"My son, you came back! My family is not complete! Please don't leave me."

Mitra was flabbergasted as her grandmother's words registered in her mind. She understood the unstated name of the son Kunti was crying about. Her father. Karna. Raja Maatha Kunti had mistook her to be her father.

"I've sinned my, Son. I should not have invoked Lord Surya with the mantra. I should not have cast you away, fearing my father's reputation. I should not have kept this secret hidden after meeting you again in Hastinapura. Please come back to me, my love!"

Mitra stroked the hair of the hysterical woman in her arms, who had lived a long and sorrowful life, by being separated from her first born. The woman who had to share her husband with another woman. The one who had lost her husband early in her life. The one who had accepted the sons of her co-wife as her own. The one who was nearly killed in the Lakshagriha incident as part of an evil ploy. The one who was ready to sacrifice the royal rights of herself and her children to protect their lives and prevent a war between family members. The one who was separated from her sons for years as per the evil plot of Shakuni. The one who had witnessed her first born's death on the battlefield.

Mitra gently guided the frail woman to the rocks by the shores of the Ganga, and made her sit on one. She then seated herself next to her grandmother and held her wrinkled hand between her own and gave her a soft smile.

Kunti lifted her gaze to meet the soft ones of Vijaya Nandhini seated beside her. She cupped her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry, my dear. I had released all my pent-up emotional turmoil on you. I don't know how long I will have to suffer the consequences of my sins by living in this world. "

A small, but sad smile formed on Mitra's face as she gently caressed her grandmother's hand, with lowered eyes.

"Why, Grandmother? Do you not like staying here with me? Have I done something to offend you?"

Tears blurred Kunti's vision as her lips quivered in response to the sorrow etched on the young angel's face. Tears slipped out, despite her control, as she caressed her dear grandchild's face with her shaking hand.

"I'm able to hold on to a shard of sanity and peace every day only from seeing your face among my sons, Putri. You are the only reason I am able to see the face I've always wanted to see among the Pandavas."

Mitra pressed a soft kiss on the palm holding her face with utmost care.

"You really miss him don't you, Grandma? You miss Baba so much."

Kunti slowly removed her hands from Mitra's face and averted her teary gaze to stare at the bright orange hues, emanating from the rising sun in the pink sky above the Ganga river. Yet her hand held Mitra's young one firmly.

"Miss," she replied, as a smile, devoid of any joy formed on her face. "Every morning as I walk on these shores of Ganga, my eyes search here and there longing to see him walk towards me after performing his prayers to the sun. Asking me how I dared to cast him away in the rivers in fear of reputation. As he witnesses the tears forming in my eyes and streaming down my cheeks, he would cast away the anger and hastily wipe my tears away saying, "please do not cry, Maa." He would lovingly smile at the joy in my eyes, from hearing him address me as Maa, and standing amongst his brothers, he would say, "Your family is now complete, Maa. Your six children are here."

Kunti turned to meet the gaze of Mitra again, who's eyes were glazed with unshed tears, as she listened to her grandmother's dreams of longing to witness her complete family at least once in her life.

Kunti gently placed her palm on Mitra's cheek, with the sad smile still intact on her face.

"Miss. Miss is a very small word to capture the longing my heart holds, my love," she whispered.

Mitra lowered her gaze and fiddled with her fingers in her lap as a sense of discomfort took over her senses.

"Grandmother, everyone says I look exactly like my Baba. My eyes, nose, lips, jaws, every feature of mine. Does seeing your son's features in me every day make you sadder?"

Kunti, astounded by the words uttered by the young one, lifted her chin to meet her eyes. The sorrow and guilt that filled her eyes, wrenched Pritha's heart.

"My dear one, seeing your father in your features is what keeps me sane. To know that my son is still living in your form, in front of my eyes is the biggest gift I could have ever received, despite the mistakes I've committed in my life. Don't you ever let yourself feel this way, understood?" she lovingly reprimanded her grandchild as she pulled her into a warm embrace.

Mitra snuggled in her Grandmother's arms and lost herself in the warmth of her love. Kunti pressed a soft kiss on top of her downy head and rested her wrinkled cheek against it. It was true. Karna continued to live on in Mitra, and she would treasure the child for the remainder of her life. 

To be Continued...