Kaampilya, Paanchal

The crowd gasped loudly. 

Some slapped their foreheads, some cupped their mouths and some mouthed in frustration as the fifth and the last arrow hit the fish, missing the target by a hair's breath. Karn stood stunned and dumbfounded, staring right into his reflection in the pond. His face flushed in embarassment. Rage pulsed in his veins as he gritted his teeth, hearing how everyone had already started commenting on his archery skills.

A hair's breath.

Just by a hair's breath?

He felt like ripping his hairs of his head, marching towards the center and thumping the bow back, his fingers already swelling. Exhaling in anger, he took furious steps back towards his seat and sat down, pressing his temples. 

"I knew it," Saatyaki smirked, whispering in Krishna's ear. 

Krishna's lips just tilted up as he shook his head.

Drupad sighed further, signaling to let the participants continue. 

.

.

.

The King of Magadh, frustrated, returned back to his seat, trying to hide his face in shame.

He was the last participant.

Drupad stood up from his seat, with a firm expression on his face, "Alas, no one could string the bow from amidst the royals present here!" 

The Kings and the Princes all sat with lowered heads, now expecting Drupad's further call. 

It was in the norms of the Swayamvar that if the royals fail, then the invitation would be open for the common folk, to try their luck if they're interested. The invited royals were holding themselves up, just for the sake of it. 

Which commoner would succeed in stringing the bow if they could not?

Some laughed internally, some already exchanging devious glances at each other, as if waiting for the chance to lash out at the King in the name of humiliation. But the only thing that was stopping them was the rule that even the commoners could've a chance—

And they were very sure none could. 

"But, I feel that Aaryavart ain't devoid of young blood!" Drupad's lips shifted into a little smile, I, I believe in every youth out there who has the potential to prove themselves!"

And with that Arjun's eyes travelled up towards the King's podium. 

"This Swayamvar—this Swayamvar was organized not search for a royal Prince for my daughter, but for the one who is truly worth for her!"

"Therefore, I, King Drupad of Southern Paanchaal, call upon every youth, who believes in himself and is ready to show us his prowess! Irrespective of their caste, creed and duty, they are cordially invited to participate in this Swayamvar!" 

There was a huge blow of trumpets and beat of drums, as all eyes were shifted towards the public.

The royals were already cupping their mouth, snickering, looking at the bewildered faces of the youths out there. 

Drupad announced, and sat back on his throne, inhaling a deep breath. He gaze switched towards Draupadi, who had a little smile on her face. 

And then, with that, her gaze slowly trailed towards where the Brahmins were sitting. 

.

.

.

Arjun inhaled deeply, his eyes locked at the proud bow that boasted of being claimed by none. 

It mocked the pride of archers, lowering their heads down. 

His heart thumped against his chest, as he gazed up at the podium. 

She. 

Out of everyone, he felt the tremors when those captivating pair of eyes had diverted towards him every now and then. As if yearning for him.

Should he? 

"Go Arjun," Bheem whispered almost inaudibly in his ear, placing a hand over his shoulder, "Go..." Arjun looked behind at him for a while, breathing in.

"Is there someone worthy of prowess?!" Dhrishtadyumn announced, his eyes surveying the crowd, "Is there a youth who can prove himself?!"

"Forget it Prince Dhrishtadyumn!" One of the Princes mocked, followed by a string of laughter from the other royals, "I do not know why your father is even hopeful for the commoners!" 

"Now these youths who run their day in shops and plough field shall tell us how to wield a bow?"

"Forget it King Drupad! You're wasting your time!" A few Princes laughed, "I would suggest you to allow your daughter to choose amidst us!" 

"Why are you humiliating yourself King Drupad?!"

There was a string of mocking laughter that followed amidst the royals. The public whispered among themselves, none having the courage to step up towards the podium. There were a few who were jokingly trying to push their mates forward, but they cowered back to their places, hiding their faces.

"Go, Vijay, what are you waiting for?!" Bheem gritted his teeth, the audacity of the Kings was boiling his blood. How dare they? First, they couldn't prove their worth, and now had the ego to put others down? 

"Forget about it, King Drupad! We suggest you to wed your daughter to one of us!"

Arjun's fingers curled into his palms in agitation, his jaws clenching. His gaze fleeted towards Yudhishthir who was standing at the other side. Meeting his brother's glance, he looked at him and gave a short nod.

He gazed back at the bow that glimmered under the broad daylight for one last time, and stood up. 

Aiding his way, he came out of the crowd of Brahmins, who's gazes were suddenly shifted towards the brave youth who had piqued their interest. 

Clad in coarse deer skin, his matted hairs were bound by strands of Rudraaksh beads, crowning his head like a wild halo with streaks of ashes were smeared on half of his visage. They watched the determined Brahmin in awe as he embarked towards the Kindhura with leonine prowls, appearing no less than the dark clouds that had suddenly gathered around to remind the sky of it's rule. 

Some held their breaths, some gasped while others murmured excitedly as they watched him. 

It was as if a dash of lightning had just struck amidst the arena, and none could take their eyes of the wonder. 

"Oh! What a sight!" One of the Kings laughed, "Seems like Brahmins have nowadays left their profession of chants and now stepping in for archery!" 

"What's even wrong with such over-confident youths, like really...."

"When Kshatriyas like Karn and Shalya couldn't accomplish the task, how the heck is he imagining to win?!" There were chuckles and laughter again that erupted, "God knows what he even thinks about himself!"

"Arrey, go away Brahmin! Go away and recount your scriptures!"

"Why are you hell bent on humiliating yourself? Go away!" 

But Arjun ignored them all, still striding towards the bow, undaunted. 

But the Brahmins had already started hollering amongst themselves, feeling proud, "Brothers! Look at those outrageous royals! Look at their audacity!" 

"There's no task in this world we Brahmins cannot accomplish! And how dare they look upon us?!"

"When they failed themselves, they're mocking our knowledge! They're mocking our profession!" One of them yelled, while the others breathed out in determination, "This youth, is our brother! He's keeping our faith!"

"GO ON FELLOW BROTHER, WE ALL ARE WITH YOU!" The Brahmins cheered happily, ringing their damrus and chimers, overpowering the voice of the mocking royals, "GO ON! WE TRUST YOU, FELLOW BROTHER!"

"SUCCEED, WE ARE WITH YOU!" They collectively chanted, as Arjun finally stood in front of the bow, his brows furrowing. And swiftly, he joined his palms in front of the Paanchaal royals.

"You're permitted," Drupad raised his palm, nodding. He didn't knew why, this Brahmin youth was reminding him of someone. 

Someone, whom he had in his mind.

Someone, for whom perhaps, he had orchestrated this archery. 

Drupad watched him with his breath caught in his throat, as he circumambulated around the bow thrice. 

Everyone looked towards the podium. There chests thudding like the thunderous clouds. Their breaths held firmly, some with hope, some with envy. The Brahmins cheered, the commoners whispered. Women gathered back on their terraces with the newly piqued interest. Somehow or the other, this seemed more amusing than the royals trying their hand. 

This was something new. Very new. 

The only Brahmins they knew worthy of whirling weapons were Parshuram, Dron and Ashwatthama. 

Who is this Brahmin youth who tried to defy the three and stand up? 

Nevertheless, they waited with bated breath.

Arjun's agile ambers studied the six feet curved weaponry, lying proudly. It had shown the audacity to the archers, who boasted of their skill without a bash. The crevices were etched with raw gold, with carvings that spelled out the greatness of the one it will belong to one day. His right palm glided over the edge of the bow, drawing it towards the midway of the weapon, judging the length, thickness and heftiness of the craftsmanship. 

Indeed, one of it's kind.

Only worthy of one of it's kind. 

His grip which was loose on the middle of the bow, tightened within a moment. 

And within a blink of everyone's eye, there was a metallic cackle that astounded everyone. 

The bow gleamed with radiance, raised suavely in his steady grip, flickering the coruscating rays of the Sun. 

"Arjun," Krishna breathed out, his lips tugging up in an unmistakable pride. 

★★★★★★★★★

A/N

😌😌😌😌😌😌🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥Simply ethereal.

Mujhe kabse ye Swayamvar waala scene karna tha and it's finally happening 😭😭😭🎀🎀🎀🎀

Signing off for today!

Kiritija Nushkie