As the golden afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the capital of the Anga, the bustling streets thrived with life. Merchants called out, selling vibrant textiles and fragrant spices, their stalls adorned with colorful wares that swayed in the gentle breeze.

The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed as Vasusen rode through the city on his magnificent steed. His armor glinted in the sunlight and the townsfolk couldn't help but steal a second glance. As Vasusen approached the settlement of Sutas, the opulence of the buildings became even more apparent.

The houses were built with intricately carved wood and adorned with vibrant murals, stood as a testament to prosperity. Lush gardens bloomed with exotic flowers, their sweet scents mingling in the air. The Sutas, skilled charioteers and storytellers, lived in dwellings that were spacious and inviting, their courtyards filled with laughter and hospitality.

Everything stood as a clear indicator of the affection that royals had for their charioteers, and story-tellers.

As he approached his home, one of the largest in the area, the grandeur of his residence came into view. Tall pillars framed the entrance, and lush creepers adorned the walls, painting a picture of opulence.

Vasusen dismounted his horse, a sleek, powerful creature, and patted its neck affectionately, leading it toward the small stable nestled beside the house. Inside the stable, the air was filled with the earthy scent of hay and leather. Other horses, sleek and well-groomed, whinnied softly in greeting, their coats gleaming under the afternoon sun.

After securing his mount, he strode purposefully toward his garden, fragrant with blooming flowers and ripe fruits. The air was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine and the earthy aroma of fresh soil.

Approaching the well, he grasped the cool rope and drew up a bucket of crystal-clear water, the surface glimmering like gems. He washed his hands and feet, the water refreshing against his skin, washing away the dust of travel and the day’s toil.

Vasusen then makes his way to the entrance of his sprawling home, the vibrant laughter of his brothers wafts through the air, a cheerful sound that fills the spacious corridor. The wooden door creaks open, revealing his siblings clustered together in a sunlit room, their faces alight with joy.

Their laughter halts momentarily, replaced by warm greetings, "Pranipat Jyesht !"

Vasusen’s heart swells with happiness as he smiles back, a shared bond of camaraderie igniting the atmosphere. Stepping further inside, the familiar scents of home envelop him—spices mingling with the earthy aroma of polished wood. He walks past intricately woven tapestries that adorn the walls, each telling stories of their lineage.

Just beyond, in the heart of the house, he finds his mother Radha, a figure of grace and strength, diligently engaged in her culinary tasks. She stirs a bubbling pot, steam rising like whispers of ancient secrets. Assisted by two maids, she moves with practiced ease, her laughter mingling with the clattering of utensils.

Sensing his presence, she glances up and her face lights up with a radiant smile. The sight of her son brings a sense of joy and comfort to the bustling kitchen, "Ah putra. Tum aa hi gaye, hum sab tumhari pratiksha kar rahe the."

Leaning against a beautifully carved pillar, Vasusen inquires playfully, "Bhojan mei kya bana hai, Mata ?"

With a twinkle in her eye, Radha replies, "Sab tumhare hi pasand ka hai."

As she speaks, the kitchen reveals its treasures. Lavish platters filled with vibrant vegetables glisten, their freshness promising a burst of flavor. A large, ornate bowl sits nearby, brimming with fragrant rice, its grains perfectly cooked and glistening. The air is thick with the aroma of marinated meats, slowly roasting to perfection, their savory scent wafting through the open windows. Scattered across the counter were trays laden with sweet delights that were a feast for the eyes as much as the palate.

In a melodic voice, filled with affection, she said, "Kintu abhi bhojan banne mei samaye hai, vats. Tum tab tak vishram karlo."

He nods, feeling a wave of contentment wash over him as he turns to his feet and walks away. He ascends the staircase, the wooden steps creaking gently beneath his weight. The air grows cooler as he approaches his room, a sanctuary of comfort.

Rich tapestries adorned the walls, their vibrant colors reflecting the golden light filtering through the intricately carved window. Antique wooden furniture, meticulously crafted, complements the decor, an ornate wardrobe stands proudly against one wall, while a small writing desk, littered with scrolls and ink, hints at his scholarly pursuits.

Exotic scents from incense waft gently through the air, mingling with the faint fragrance of blooming jasmine from the garden below. As he lies back on the lavish bed, the softness envelops him, and the world outside fades.

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A/N

Kis angle se yeh mahanubhav garib lagte the ? 💀

I agree he didn't grew up with luxuries like that of a royal prince, lekin what he had was much much much better than what Pandavas grew up in 🙃

I'd say Adirath being from the royal family of Anga, and also being the charioteer of Bhishm, Karn grew up comfortably, even lavish I might say. Basically he wasn't poor or anything.