"Duryodhannnnnn….,” shrieked a voice from far far away shattering through the silence of death that had descended on the battle field, the gloomy atmosphere of death was chocking everyone as sadness and despair hung in the air.

Many mothers had lost their sons, many sisters lost their brothers, many wives had been windowed and many children had been orphan, Panchaali looked at the ground of Kurukshetr, the ground had grown hard after taking in so many lives and the blood, various body parts were scattered all over the battle field with no life anywhere to be seen. Panchaali's soul chilled as she heard a loud, pain filled scream, the agony in it was enough to shatter her soul, make her feel broken and crooked. “My son, open your eyes. Speak… Speak to me my first born… Speak to me… A hundred did we bear, all fine and proud. Was it for such a foolish end? Duryodha... SPEAK OUT.” Gandhari screamed out tears tracing down her cheeks as her heart and her soul burned, the agony had her soul shriveling, tears traced down Panchaali's cheeks as she watched the woman cry, Gandhari didn't deserve this, the mother in her never deserved this, which mother ever did deserve to see her children die? A child that a mother fibers together with her blood for nine months, births it after so much pains, a mother cries with their child and laughs with their children's joy, an entire world of the woman gets shriveled up in their children once she becomes a mother, her own existence doesn't matter anymore, a mother can do anything for her child, but what happens, when that child she had bought up with so much pain and sacrifices die, the life that she had brought to the world suddenly extinguishes?! Leaving behind nothing but destructions, no one, no one can understand the pain of the mother who had lost her child, what it is to be a walking dead ask the mother who had sacrificed herself for her children but those children, those for whom she survives for just dies. The children that she once saw laughing and giggling, playing around today all lay in pulps, bodies broken, blood being soaked by ground.

What had Gandhari ever done to deserve this? She had sacrificed herself at every point of her life, for her people and family she got married to the blind man, she herself sacrificed her eye sight and embraced life long darkness for her husband, did her best to be a good devotee, a good mother and a good queen, but this is how life repaid her, this was what she had earned? This pain and sacrificed bodies of her sons?

Gandhari bent over the bloody muddle of her son’s body, touching and feeling that one child who was her last hope, had died too, her heart cracked as her soul dented every time she felt a broken bone or chunks of flashes missing, ingraining the feel of his blood and injuries to her mind, tears were pouring down her cheeks, as she was slurring her speech, mumbling incoherent words and mumbles as she cried, she looked insane, her hair were stuck out of it's usual perfect order, tears after tears pouring down her cheeks as she trembled.

Her husband, the blind king Dritharashtra stood by, looking helpless. The Pandavas and Krishna hurried over to Gandhari and Dritharashtra, to offer their respects, apologies and condolences. Panchaali on the other hand stood rooted looking at the woman, she didn't go to apologise or offer her condolences, what was the point? What condolences can one offer that would erase the pain of a mother, what apologise can lessen the burn of a mother's heart who had lost her sons, not one, not two, but hundred. Losing one child drives a mother to the brink of insanity and here was Gandhari who lost her hundred sons, Panchaali couldn't even imagine losing one of her child, she knew she would die the very instance, where the mere thought of losing her child, chilled her soul, made her feel like dying, Gandhari had lost hundred, so Panchaali as a mother knew no amount of condolences and apologise would lessen the pain.

Sanjaya, the king’s escort, gently bent down to Gandhari, to inform the blindfolded woman of the arrival of the five and their companion. Gandhari stood up stumbling as her clothes were marred in the blood of her eldest born, all grief gone in a flash as her face turned devoid of every emotion, her heart that earlier burned with grief and bereavement, that pain, that fire was now replaced with vengeance. Red, boiling fury, that ignited from the heart of the mother who had lost a hundred sons, and a daughter too, she had no child of her own, not one that she had birthed was alive. Not one whom she had fed was alive, not one voice was there to call her mata.

The Pandavas recoiled in fear, their hearts heavy with guilt as they stood there ready to accept every punishment that she saw them fit for this destruction that the five had caused. Gandhari, however, totally ignored them like they never existed, and aided by Sanjay, came up to Krishna, who stood there his face a mask of pain as he looked at the mother, he could feel her pain, he knew what his fate held and with his open arms he embraced everything.

"You!”, she shouted, “You, the young king of Dwaraka. You, who I worshipped as Vishnu and You, known as an avatar of the supreme godhead. Aren’t you ashamed of your doings?” she screamed on top of her voice as she looked at him, her eyes burning with tears, hate and disgust lacing her words as she pointed her finger  at him, trembling with fury and hatred, for the one man who she knew was her creator,  one who had all the powers in the world, one who could have prevented all this destruction and pain. One whom she worshipped more than anyone.

“Shouldn’t you have averted this war with your divine will and power? Is this what you do to your own creation? I have requested you, each and every day in the past troubled times to avert this disaster. Is this how you answer my prayers? Ask your mother, Devaki, the pain of losing a child. She had seven of her children being killed at birth and now I have seen a hundred sons of mine being butchered to death” Gandhari, was shaking, her anger in containable, grief and pain blocking her every sense as she got lost in all the pain and destruction that had befallen on her.

Gandhari was shocked that even after so much he just stood there, he dared to come here and offer his apologises and condolences? Did he really feel that his apologies could erase this never ending pain in her chest. Her fury vents itself out, “And you dare dare apologies and offer condolences after all this? What a nerve you have. Listen to this, oh mocking God. If my years of Vishnu Bhakthi have been true, and if I have been true to my husband, then, may you die in 36 years from today. May Dwaraka be flooded and may every one of your Yadava kin perish by killing each other, just as you made the kins of Kuru kill one another. May the Yadavas die out…. may the Yadavas die out….” Gandhari was close to tears, her anger all gone, and she fell down on her knees to the Lord’s feet. Her grief flooding her chest as she fell on her feet, crying, guilt flooding her chest, what had she done? The pain that she couldn't hold, she had given just a similar pain to all the women of Dwarka. "Oh god what I have done?!" She shouted in grief, "Forgive me Krishn, Forgive me." She begged as she held his feet.

Krishna, lifted her up, his charming smile stuck onto his face, as tears glazed in her eyes and said “ No Maathey no, so far I have accepted all the blessings of all the mothers, today I won't back down to take the curse of a mother, this curse of yours will take effect, not only because of your true devotion towards me and your husband, but also due to the ever changing sands of time. In the mean time, let’s attend to the tending of the dead and sending them away on their journey to the heavens.” And supporting Gandhari, Krishna walked past the startled Pandavas.

After the war was over Krishn was himself contemplating the end of the Yadav race. They were very powerful under the protection of Krishn so no external force could defeat them. If the Yadavas themselves are left unchecked, at some point of time in future, they will become a burden to the Earth. So, Krishn realizes the importance of bringing the destruction of his own race. So, when Gandhari cursed Krishn and his race, He mentally thanked her for having solved his problem. . .

***

DO VOTE AND COMMENT!

***