My Expression!! My Life!!

Govinda looked down upon the scenes unfolding below. He had to admire his cousin’s tenacity. He doubted if any of the Kuru princes would have had the guts to do that. The thought struck him that both of them, princes in their own right, standing in front of each other, were in fact third cousins, through him, though neither knew that. ----------------X---------------- His hand still bleeding, he looked at his future fallen carelessly by the side. The severed thumb seemed to be mocking at him. He was still in a state of shock. He was now wondering if his courage was nothing but foolhardiness. Which archer would give their right thumb willingly? But then for that matter, which guru would ask for such a heinous guru-dakshina?  All to save the ego of a Kuru prince?  [Pic Source: https://postimg.org/image/mwxrpinvp/] He had glanced at Drona, looking straight into his eyes, when the request was made. His face betraying none of the emotions he felt underneath, he had calm...

Na hrishyatyaatmasammaane naavamaanena tapyate Gaango hrada ivaakshobhyo yah sah pandita uchyate That one is wise who does not rejoice when honoured, does not become dejected when dishonoured and is not swayed by emotions under the most trying circumstances.         [Vidura Neeti 1.31] Even as I have followed these words all my life, I sometimes feel the small stirrings of discontentment in me. I thought I had gained control over my uncertainties. Instead I find that as I am growing older, the weight of the older, smothered down resentments are catching up. My mother named me Vidura.   I doubt if she knew what it meant, for while she was a wise woman, she was not very educated. She probably heard my father mention it in passing and remembered it. My father is Veda Vyasa, son of sage Parashara, my grandmother is Queen Mother Satyavati. My mother, Parishrami, was a maid-in-waiting to the queens of Hastinapura. Vyasa had come to Hastinapura at...

Soma looked down on the battlefield. Today is the 12 th night of the war at Kurukshetra. Soon it will be the 13 th day and a much important one at that, for it is then that Varchas turns 16. The day he will come back to me. I have missed him so much these last few years. For 16 years, I have been separated from my son. I have pined for him. I have wondered whether it was a mistake to send him down as a human, as my amsa, for the greater good. Like I have been doing every night for the last 16 years, I peek down through the shimmery curtains, at his taut form. The warrior that he has become. Progeny of Nara. Nephew to Narayana. And trained in the martial arts by the Yadavas themselves. Does he sense my presence? Does he remember that his father is yearning for him? Or is he in all senses a true Kshatriya prince now, about to become a father himself? Oh! How I remember that conversation with Narayana, when he came to me asking for Varchas to be incarnated as a warri...