If the Pandavas thought they had seen the worst of it, they were sorely mistaken.

With Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, and Shakuni now in the room, the balance of power had tipped heavily in favor of the Kauravas. Arjun groaned as he was shoved back into the fray, his escape attempt thwarted.

“I thought… I thought you were blind!” Arjun sputtered at Dhritarashtra, clutching his cheek where Shakuni’s cane had smacked him.

“I am,” Dhritarashtra said calmly. “But I can still sense your stupidity from miles away."

“We... might be trapped,” Yudhisthir muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Arjun’s eyes darted around the room, still trying to plot a last-minute escape. “Might be? Pitamah just body-blocked the door like it was his new job.”

“Not to mention Shakuni’s practically foaming at the mouth with excitement,” Nakul added, glancing nervously at the ever-scheming uncle.

Sahadev, however, was the first to feel the wrath of his Mama. Shakuni wasted no time twisting Sahadev’s ear, the young Pandava wincing dramatically. “Mama! Why are you doing this? Since when did you care enough to discipline us?”

Shakuni chuckled darkly, tightening his grip. “Care? Oh, my dear nephew, I don’t care. But how could I pass up the chance to beat the Pandavas?”

Sahadev rolled his eyes. “Of course. Typical.”

Meanwhile, Bhishm and Dhritarashtra began herding the Pandavas back into the room like unruly goats, giving a nod to Karn, Duryodhan, Dushasan, and Yuyutsu to resume the "lesson." Duryodhan cracked his knuckles, Karn smirked, and the brothers exchanged wary glances.

“Great,” Bheem muttered under his breath, eyeing Duryodhan’s menacing stance. “We’re about to get flattened.”

“Again,” Nakul sighed, dodging a playful jab from Dushasan. “How is this our life?”

Back in the fray, the Pandavas didn’t go down without a fight. Arjun, ever the graceful warrior, dodged Karn’s punches like he was dancing at a festival.

“You’re too slow today, Jyest,” Arjun teased, sidestepping another swing.

Karn’s smile never wavered, but he was clearly growing more and more exasperated. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Well, I thought about stopping, but then I realized that would be a disservice to your training. Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

Karn lunged again, but Arjun dodged with an exaggerated flourish. “Seriously, Jyest, at this rate, you’ll tire yourself out before you even land a hit.”

Karna narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I’m getting there, don’t you worry.”

Meanwhile, Bheem and Duryodhan were locked in their usual battle of brute strength. Duryodhan grunted, trying to wrestle Bheem to the ground, but the giant Pandava was having none of it.

“Did you gain weight or something?” Bheem asked, easily tossing Duryodhan aside like a sack of rice. “You’re moving like a boulder.”

Duryodhan, panting and sweating, glared up at him. “Maybe you’ve just gotten weaker.”

“Me? Weak?” Bheem laughed, grabbing a cushion off the nearby bed and smacking Duryodhan square in the face with it. “I could do this all day.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not your pillow!” Duryodhan shouted, swinging wildly in retaliation.

Not far off, Nakul and Sahadev were busy trying to outwit Shakuni, who seemed intent on grabbing every available ear. Nakul darted left, then right, narrowly avoiding Shakuni’s grasp.

“Mama, you’ve got to be quicker than that!” Nakul called, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Shakuni sneered, clearly annoyed. “Quicker? I’ll show you quicker!”

Sahadev, trying to maintain his composure, muttered under his breath. “I can’t believe this is happening. The great Pandavas, warriors of legend... getting ear-pulled by Shakuni.”

Nakul snorted. “Oh, the bards are going to love this one.”

Krishna, lounging against a wall, couldn’t contain his amusement. “I think this might be the most entertaining family gathering I’ve ever witnessed. Who knew a family reunion could turn into a wrestling match?”

The chaos continued, and just when it seemed like the Pandavas might catch a break, they spotted their mothers, Kunti and Gandhari, standing in the doorway, arms crossed and stern expressions plastered across their faces.

“Mata!” Nakul shouted, sprinting toward Kunti like a child desperate for salvation. “We’re getting assaulted by a gang of our own family! You’ve got to help us!”

Arjun wasn’t far behind. “Yes, please! It’s utter chaos in here!”

For a brief, fleeting moment, hope shone in their eyes—until they saw the looks on Kunti and Gandhari’s faces.

Kunti had her hands on her hips, while Gandhari held her walking stick a little too menacingly.

Before Nakul or Arjun could say another word, Kunti raised the stick.

THWACK!

Nakul yelped, clutching his arm. “Mata! I thought you were here to save us!”

“Oh, I’m saving you alright,” Kunti said, lifting the stick again. “Saving you from your own idiocy!”

“Mata!” Arjun tried to protest, but he was met with a swift strike from Gandhari’s stick.

“I didn’t raise you boys to be so reckless!” Gandhari scolded, her voice sharp. “Do you know how much you’ve worried everyone?!”

“Well, I’m starting to regret asking for help,” Arjun muttered, rubbing his sore shoulder.

Krishna, watching the scene unfold, called out sarcastically,

“You know, perhaps this is the universe's way of reminding you all that you have mothers for a reason. And that reason is to keep you out of trouble—or at least, to beat you up when you’re in it!”

Back in the room, Bheem was still laughing at the chaos as Duryodhan tried (and failed) to land a solid punch. “Come on, brother, is that the best you’ve got?”

“You just wait,” Duryodhan growled, lunging at him again but getting blocked by yet another cushion. “When I finally catch you, you’re going to regret ever waking up!”

Bheem shrugged. “At this rate, you’re more likely to pass out before you even touch me.”

“Maybe he should switch to a different sport,” Krishna interjected, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Like competitive pillow fighting. I hear it’s very popular this season.”

As the chaos resumed, the Pandavas and Kauravas found themselves dodging attacks, taunting one another, and laughing despite the absurdity of it all.

Arjun slipped under Duryodhan’s arm, dodging yet another punch. “Careful, Jyest! If you swing any harder, you might take out a wall!”

“Right! As if you could ever hit a wall,” Duryodhan snapped back. “Or anyone for that matter.”

“Maybe I’ll just aim for your ego instead,” Arjun shot back.

Amid the flurry of sarcastic banter, Bheem found himself momentarily caught by Dushasan, who tried to tackle him to the ground.

“A little help, please?” Bheem called out, struggling against his cousin’s grip.

“Why would I help you when this is way too entertaining?” Krishn chuckled, leaning back and propping his feet up on a nearby stool. “You’re all doing wonderfully. I might even start charging tickets for this show!”

The room was a whirlwind of motion and laughter as Nakul and Sahadev tried desperately to sneak away from Shakuni.

“We’re just going to go... uh, do some very important warrior training,” Nakul stammered, trying to sidestep his uncle.

“Important? Is that what they’re calling running away now?” Shakuni laughed, twisting Nakul’s ear again.

Sahadev chimed in, “At least we have a solid excuse! You wouldn’t believe the amount of trouble we’re in right now.”

“I wouldn’t believe it? Ha! You’re lucky I’m not taking notes. It would make a great tragedy for the stage,” Shakuni teased.

Finally, exhausted and panting, the brothers called a timeout. They sprawled out on the floor, chests heaving, sweat dripping, and the room fell into an odd stillness.

“Timeout!” Arjun called, stepping away from the chaos. “We’re warriors, not circus performers. Can we call a truce before someone actually gets hurt?”

The room fell into a strange, collective silence as the brothers paused, panting and wiping sweat from their brows. Even Karn, who prided himself on his stamina, was bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath.

Bheem, still sprawled on the floor, raised a hand weakly. “I vote for a break. My arms feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“Agreed,” Duryodhan groaned, collapsing beside him. “I can’t believe how exhausted I am from this nonsense. I think I sprained my pride trying to catch Bheem!”

Karn, also slumped on the floor, managed a laugh. “If this is what warrior training looks like, I’m considering a career change. Perhaps something less... physically demanding?”

“Like what?” Duryodhan asked, looking at him incredulously.

“I don’t know, maybe a vegetable merchant?” Karna replied, wiping his brow dramatically. “Imagine the stress of dodging carrots instead of punches!”

Just then, Bhishm and Dhritarashtra exchanged glances, shaking their heads. “You boys really need to start taking your training seriously,” Dhritarashtra said, still sounding disappointed but with a hint of fondness in his voice.

“Maybe you should start charging us for this little pep talk,” Nakul quipped, trying to catch his breath. “At this rate, I’m going to need a therapist after this reunion.”

Krishna, still watching from the sidelines with barely concealed mirth, chimed in. “What an incredible show of family bonding! Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a good old-fashioned ear-twisting and pillow fight. Truly, the hallmark of a healthy relationship.”

As the laughter echoed through the room, Bheem suddenly sat up, his eyes wide. “Wait a minute. What happens if we all end up too tired to fight?”

Karn leaned against the wall, chuckling. “Then we’ll have to call it a draw, and I’ll let you all live another day.”

“Hey! No fair!” Duryodhan protested, throwing a pillow in frustration. “What about my glorious victory?!”

Krishna smirked, adding, “Maybe you should take a page from Nakul’s book. He’s always good at dodging, especially when it involves running away from his responsibilities.”

Nakul shot back, “It’s called, strategic retreat, my dear cousin! And it’s a valid tactic in battle!”

Kunti and Gandhari stood there, arms crossed, both wielding their sticks like they were about to perform a duet of epic proportions.

They decided to join the fun and said in a very serious voice.

“Are you all seriously resting?!” Kunti exclaimed, her voice booming. “Do you think I raised you to be weaklings? Get back up!”

Gandhari chimed in, raising her stick. “And that applies to you too, Duryodhan! You call yourself a warrior, yet here you are, lounging around!”

The brothers exchanged panicked glances, suddenly jolted back into action.

“Mata, no! We were just...” Nakul stuttered, trying to explain, but his mother was having none of it.

“Just what? Having a picnic? I’ll give you a picnic!” Kunti swung her stick, narrowly missing Nakul as he dove to the side.

“See? This is what I meant when I said you scare us!” Yudhisthir exclaimed, darting behind Bheem for protection.

“Really? Scared of your mothers?” Duryodhan laughed, shaking his head. “What has our family come to?”

“Don’t tempt me to join this madness!” Gandhari warned, raising her stick higher. “I may be blind, but I can still swing this thing!”

Krishna, witnessing the rising chaos, couldn't help but laugh. “Oh, this is the best! Forget the war. I’ll take this family drama any day. Who needs a battlefield when you have this delightful circus?”

The pandemonium resumed, and the brothers found themselves dodging their mothers’ playful strikes while still trying to avoid the Kauravas.

“Okay, we need a strategy here,” Arjun said, ducking under a swing. “How about we just pretend to be injured?”

“Pretend? We can just act like we’re on the verge of a glorious comeback!” Bheem shouted, flexing his arms dramatically. “This is our time to shine!”

“Do you even know what that means?” Nakul teased. “You’ll just end up shining like a beacon for everyone to see!”

They all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the situation washing over them. Just as they thought they could regroup, Bhishma and Dhritarashtra stood, raising their hands dramatically as if conducting an orchestra.

“Enough!” Bhishma commanded, though his voice couldn’t hide the hint of a smile. “If you’re going to fight, then fight like true warriors, not like children!”

“Yeah!” Dhritarashtra added, waving his hands. “And don’t forget to use your toes! They can be very powerful too.”

“Toes?” Duryodhan blinked, almost doubling over with laughter. “Did you just suggest we use our toes in a fight?”

“Why not?” Dhritarashtra grinned, reveling in the silliness of it all. “If they’re strong enough to kick away all your doubts!”

This sent them all into another fit of laughter. Exhausted from both fighting and giggling, they lay sprawled on the floor, panting.

“Alright, let’s take a moment,” Duryodhan suggested, raising his hand like a referee. “We’ve clearly reached our limit. But can I just say, if you all ever think about leaving again, I’ll have a real plan next time!”

“Noted,” Yudhisthir said, his face still flushed from laughing. “But until then, can we all agree on one thing?”

“What’s that?” Arjun asked, curiosity piqued.

“Let’s not worry our mothers so much next time. Or else we’ll be left dodging both sticks and punches from all angles!”

The brothers burst into another round of laughter, the earlier tension dissolving into a shared camaraderie, their bonds growing stronger amidst the chaos.

As they lay there, still catching their breath, they couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe this was what family was all about—silly fights, ridiculous strategies, and a whole lot of love, wrapped up in laughter.

Just then, Krishna, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, looked at them with a mock-serious expression. “You know, I’m still considering charging for tickets to this event. Perhaps a re-run in the evening?”

And with that, they all erupted into laughter again, the sound echoing through the room, a testament to the unbreakable bonds they shared, forged in laughter, and silliness, amid the drama that was life.

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