In the tranquil surroundings of Dronacharya's ashram, the sounds of laughter and chatter mingled with the rustling leaves of the tall trees. The sun bathed the land in warm golden light, casting playful shadows on the ground.

Some students, exhausted from their morning training, lay sprawled on the grass, their faces relaxed in post-training bliss. Others engaged in spirited games of skill, their joyous shouts echoing through the air as they tossed wooden balls or raced along the pathways. Beneath the shade of large banyan trees, clusters of students gathered, deep in conversation about recent lessons, the art of warfare, and the tales of valor that inspired them.

Duryodhan walked with an air of confidence, flanked by the cunning princes of Mahishmati, Vinda and Anuvinda. It had been a few days since the two princes had arrived, and their companionship with Duryodhan had blossomed swiftly. Their shared ambitions ignited a bond, each secretly recognizing the other's potential as allies in their pursuit of power.

Their laughter rang out, sharp and bright. As they strolled, Duryodhan's eyes caught a glimpse of Arjun, seated beneath a broad neem tree, completely absorbed in a manuscript. His brow furrowed in concentration, Arjun’s fingers traced the ancient script with reverence.

Duryodhan's expression soured, jealousy flickering in his chest. "Jab dekho tab padhne ka natak karta hai."

Vinda and Anuvinda exchanged sly glances, their lips curling into amused smiles. Arjun, sensing the presence of his rivals, looked up from his scroll, his gaze meeting Duryodhan’s for a fleeting moment. Yet, he displayed no sign of concern or annoyance, calmly returning to his studies as if the provocation was beneath him.

Duryodhan huffed in irritation, casting a disdainful glance at the indifferent archer. Suddenly, without warning, three small neem fruits came tumbling down, striking Duryodhan, Vinda, and Anuvinda squarely on the face. They gaped in shock, momentarily stunned by the unexpected assault.

The trio's faces morphed into expressions of confusion and irritation as they instinctively looked up. Perched atop a sturdy branch, Satyashree, the youngest Yadav prince, grinned mischievously, the sunlight glinting off his playful demeanor.

"Kshama karna, mere haatho se gir gaye." he quipped, his laughter echoing through the ashram, igniting a ripple of intrigue among nearby students. Arjun, still lost in his text, suppressed a smile, savoring the moment of unexpected mischief.

Duryodhan rubbed his cheek where the neem fruit had struck, forcing a smile despite the irritation bubbling inside him.

"Tum ped ke upar kya kar rahe ho, Yadav-kanisht ?" Duryodhan called, attempting to sound light-hearted, though his tone was edged with annoyance.

Satyashree leaned over, his face breaking into a cheeky grin as he replied, "Bas teen kadvo ko dekh raha hu."

"Tatparya ?!" A frown creased the faces of Duryodhan, Vinda and Anuvinda.

"Neem ki daali, neem ke patte aur neem ke fal. Aapko kya laga ?" His words dripped with sarcasm, the jest unmistakable.

Duryodhan’s smile faltered for a moment, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Vinda and Anuvinda scowled, their pride pricked by the Yadav prince’s jibe. Arjun, still under the neem tree, pretended to be engrossed in his manuscript, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward at the banter.

"Tum bahut chatur ho, kyu ?" Duryodhan painfully smiled, his voice low yet simmering with contained rage.

"Padhaayi kijiye, ya kam se kam padhne ka natak kar lijiye, aap bhi ho jaayenge." Satyashree shot back, his voice playful yet pointed.

At that Arjun burst into laughter, the sound rang like a peal of thunder, filling the ashram with its warmth. He could no longer suppress it. With a huff, Duryodhan turned away, his pride wounded. Vinda and Anuvinda followed, stomping off with indignation.

Arjun looked up at Satyashree, a playful glint in his eye. "Tum atyant natkhat ho !" he remarked, shaking his head with amusement.

Satyashree chuckled, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Oh, aap abhi sabse bade natkhat se mile nahi hai."

As Duryodhan, flanked by the wicked princes Vinda and Anuvinda, strode through the ashram, the atmosphere buzzed with the carefree laughter of young warriors. The eldest Kaurava's eyes narrowed, burning with a simmering fury as he replayed Satyashree's mocking words in his mind. Each step he took echoed his frustration, the soft earth crunching beneath his feet contrasting sharply with the turmoil brewing within him.

"Woh dhurt balak.... Yadi woh Satyaki ka bhai na hota-" Duryodhan muttered, his voice a low growl. He clenched his fists tightly, feeling the tension weave through his muscles. "Bas ek baar Gurudev use shashtra uthane ki aagya de, apne gada se use kuchal dunga."

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A/N

Dury woh Satyashree hai.... Woh tumko kuchal ke, box mei pack karke, box ko gift wrap karke, tumhare pita ko parcel kardega-

Also, if you see the individuals whom Duryodhan has befriended.... They are in one way or another superior to him.

Satyaki, superior in valour.
Karn, superior in valour as well.
Vinda Anuvinda, superior in political power, as they were kings of Avanti.

Duryodhan befriends those people, jisse use koi na koi benefit mile. None of his friendships are genuine. This precisely what Ravan did. Destroy the inferiors, befriend the superiors like Vali.

And ab Karn ka naam aa hi gaya hai toh...... 🌝🌝🌝