Free AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) by Anand Neelakantan Page A

in the puja room; his mother sat beside him, her eyes closed. Aswathama dropped his bundle on the floor and walked up to them. The dancing figure of Shiva stared back at him, magnificent in its poise and grace. Aswathama fell to the floor in obeisance, his hands folded over his head. The familiar aroma of incense and camphor almost made him cry. It was the smell of his childhood. He had sat with his father and learned the mantras from him. How he had resented it then, wanting only to dash out to play with his friends. Now he yearned for those days to return. His mother had not spoken a word after her first flood of questions. He touched her feet in pranaam, but she did not stir. His father sat cross-legged in meditation, his face serene and calm. Aswathama touched his father’s feet. ‘Bless me, father. I am going to Gandhara,’ he said in his mind. Surely, his father would say something to him, bless him and wish him success? Would he have behaved this way if he were Arjuna?
    But Drona did not move. ‘Enough of this!’ Aswathama thought sternly as he picked up his bundle and left the room. He lingered at the threshold, running his fingers over the doorframe. He might never see his home again. The swords in his bundle rattled.
    His mother came rushing out. Her muffled sobs pierced his heart. But it was his father’s voice that almost made him turn back. “Stop crying, woman. Nothing will happen to him. He is the greatest warrior I have ever known. He is Drona’s son.”
    Aswathama wanted to throw down his bundle and rush to hug his father as he had done as a child. ‘Father, do you truly mean it? Am I better than your Arjuna?’ He wanted to feel his father’s hands on his head in blessing. Suddenly the wish to go anywhere vanished. He wanted to remain in Hastinapura as his father’s son. But the smiling face of Shakuni rose before his eyes and the young Brahmin raised his bowed head. ‘Father, if I return alive, I hope I will have the courage to tell you what I feel – that no son has ever loved his father more than Aswathama. But for now…Gandhara is waiting.’
    ***
    Though Shakuni had travelled many yojanas, he could still feel the burning eyes of the Brahmin boring into his back. The wind was howling in his ears and the horse frothing at the mouth, yet he kept urging greater speed. He knew Aswathama would come after him. He could feel it in his bones. His heart thudded louder than the sound of his horse’s hooves.
    When his mount finally jumped over some bushes and flew into Gandhara, Shakuni punched his chest. ‘Aswathama, we will arrange a welcome feast for you. Welcome to Gandhara, Brahmin!’
    *****

6     D ARKNESS

     
    “BHANU!” THE VOICE SOUNDED OVERWROUGHT , like that of a tired man recovering from sickness.
    Bhanumati pulled the quilt over her sleeping daughter. ‘Why did he do it? Suyodhana, I cannot look at you.’ How she despised him for what he had done. The breeze carried in the sweet scent of parijat flowers. ‘Why doesn’t he just come in, instead of calling out like a dying man?’ she thought. Had he gone away? How could he go leaving her like this?
    Silence surrounded her. Unable to bear it a moment longer, Bhanumati tread on noiseless feet to the door and yanked it open. She saw a shadow in the gloom of the corridor. She approached him, afraid her determination to hate him all her life would melt if she looked into his eyes. His shallow breathing stopped altogether as he sensed her presence. She wanted to touch him but withdrew her hand at the last moment.
    “Bhanu, I did nothing wrong,” he said beseechingly.
    Bhanumati withdrew in horror. “Nothing wrong? What are you saying, my husband?”
    “She deserved it. That woman deserved every bit of it.” The low whisper scorched her ears. Forgetting to breathe, she stood still, waiting for him to say something that would make her believe in his remorse.
    “Why do you stare at me like that, Bhanu? Tell me you understand. Was