As the first light of another dawn spilled over the banks of the Yamuna, the air was once again filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter among the eager students of Dronacharya. Their clay pots with small openings, lined up along the riverbank, gleaming with the morning sun.

Today however, Arjun stood apart with his pot, his brow slightly furrowed in contemplation. He was busy studying his pot, pondering its design, wondering how he could fill it quickly, so he could catch a glimpse of the secret teachings Dron shared with his son.

His gaze shifted to Ashwathama, who effortlessly filled his pot thanks to its generous opening, his movements swift and practiced. With a satisfied flick, Ashwathama finished, his pot brimming with water, and was off to the ashram, leaving Arjun feeling an unexpected twinge of urgency.

Arjun glanced at the other students, engaged in their struggle. He felt no resentment toward Ashwathama; instead, a spark of determination ignited within him. He longed to learn the secret weapons that Dronacharya imparted to his son. Arjun felt the weight of his own empty vessel. He wanted to fill not just his pot but his mind with wisdom.

In that moment, a flurry of thoughts raced through Arjun's mind. He considered tilting his pot at a sharper angle, hoping to increase the flow. Perhaps he could find a larger stone to create a bridge, widening the opening artificially. Or maybe he could gather more water in smaller containers and transfer it swiftly. Yet, each idea felt insufficient, overshadowed by Ashwathama's quick departure.

Suddenly, a spark flickered in Arjun's mind, igniting a flicker of hope. He lowered himself to the soft earth, and plucked a slender piece of grass, holding it delicately between his fingers. Arjun took a deep breath, he had only ever done this with arrows, but he knew that the blade of grass too could respond to his intention, if done properly.

With the blade of grass in hand, he closed his eyes, summoning the ancient mantras he had learned from Dronacharya.

"ॐ जल बिम्बाय विद्महे! नील पुरुषाय धीमहि! तन्नो वरुण: प्रचोदयात्॥" He recited the mantra softly yet firmly, envisioning the grass absorbing the energy of his words.

As he chanted, the grass began to quiver, imbued with energy drawn from the essence of the Varunastra. The blade now shimmered with an ethereal glow, perfectly calibrated to his needs.

He lowered the grass into the narrow opening of his pot, a quiet determination radiating from him. The moment the grass touched the bottom, a gentle shimmer radiated from it, illuminating the soft morning light. A ripple of energy burst forth, and water materialized, flowing gracefully into the pot.

Arjun watched in awe as the pot immediately filled, the sound of the water echoing softly against the clay. The pot, which moments ago stood empty, was now brimming with crystal-clear water, its surface reflecting the early sun's golden rays.

Feeling a profound sense of accomplishment, he turned away, his feet barely touching the earth as he dashed towards the ashram. Navigating through the lush greenery, Arjun took the shorter route, weaving through the tall grass and the dense thickets with ease.

As he approached the ashram, the sound of distant birdsong mingled with the rhythmic thumping of his heart. Inside, Ashwathama sat cross-legged before Dronacharya, eagerly awaiting the impartation of secret knowledge.

"Toh aaj mai tumhe-" Just as Dron was about to begin, the tranquility of the atmosphere shattered with the sound of hurried footsteps.

Arjun burst into the clearing, breathless yet radiant, his pot of water swaying slightly with each hurried step. "Guru Dron !" he exclaimed, his voice a blend of fervor and respect.

Dron's eyes widened in surprise, and Ashwathama blinked, momentarily taken aback by the burst of energy Arjun brought with him. The Guru's heart raced, a wave of apprehension washing over him. He knew Arjun's pure heart and unwavering spirit; the last thing he wished was for his beloved student to feel disappointment or betrayal. His heart sank momentarily fearing the boy's reaction upon discovering the exclusive teachings given to Ashwathama.

"Tum itne shigreh kaise aagaye ?" Dron asked, masking his apprehension.

With a radiant grin, Arjun replied, "Maine apna kamadalu Varunastra se bhar diya." His voice rang with pride and achievement.

"Varunastra se ?" Dron was turned momentarily speechless, realizing the ingenuity and resolve his brightest pupil possessed.

"Ji Guruvar. Mai chaahta tha ki shigrehta se paatra mei jal bhar, Guru-bhrata ke saath baith aapse vidya praapt karu." Arjun explained, his determination radiating like sunlight piercing through clouds.

Dronacharya was taken aback, his heart swelling with admiration for Arjun's resolute spirit. He had thought Arjun would be disheartened. Instead, he was embodying purity and diligence, and demonstrated a creativity that surpassed expectation. This boy, with his pure intentions, was not only a warrior but a seeker of knowledge in the truest sense.

Ashwathama, seated cross-legged, looked at Arjun with newfound respect. Despite his privilege, he had never considered the lengths to which this prince would go for knowledge. Arjun was not seeking to undermine Ashwathama, but to elevate his own understanding.

Dron smiled, a warmth spreading through him. Here stood a student whose heart was free of envy, driven solely by a thirst for wisdom. The teacher's internal conflict melted away, replaced by a clarity of purpose. "Uchit hai, Arjun. Kamadalu parnkutir mei rakh ke aa jaao."

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A/N

Student Arjun was on another level, I tell you 🔥🔥

And don't think ki this is it, Arjun ki feats toh abhi shuru huyi hai ✨