Dwarka

Suthanu found Aniruddha sitting by the farthest tree in the palace gardens, his tiny figure lost in the shadows of the great banyan tree that stood like a guardian over the courtyard. His face was buried in his knees, soft sobs shaking his small frame. Suthanu's heart ached at the sight. She had never imagined her beloved Aniruddha would feel so alone. 

Slowly, she approached, her footsteps light so as not to startle him. She knelt beside him, her sari brushing the soft grass as she reached out to touch his shoulder. "Ladla," she whispered, her voice gentle, like the first breeze before a storm.

Aniruddha didn't look up, but his sobs quieted, his breath hitching as he tried to calm himself.

"Look at me, my child," Suthanu said softly, her heart brimming with love as she gently lifted his chin so their eyes met. His face was flushed with tears, his lips trembling as he spoke.

"Why... why don't you love me like you love Vajra, Choti Maa?" His words came out in a choked whisper, and it felt like someone had driven a dagger through her heart.

Suthanu pulled him into her arms, cradling him as though he were still the small infant she had once rocked to sleep. Her tears fell silently into his hair as she pressed him close. "Oh, Ladla, how could you think such a thing?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "You are my son. You are as much a part of me as Vajra is. I love you just as much as I love Vajra."

"But..." Aniruddha sniffed, his small hands gripping her sari tightly. "But everyone always talks about Vajra. Everyone's always with him. No one cares about me anymore, Choti Maa. It's like... like I'm not important anymore. Like I don't belong here."

Suthanu's heart squeezed at his words. She had failed to see how deeply Aniruddh was hurt. Gently, she stroked his tear-stained cheeks, her mind searching for a way to make him understand.

"Do you see that tree over there, Ladla?" she asked, pointing to a tall mango tree that stood not far from them. Aniruddha followed her gaze, nodding slightly.

"That tree has been here since before you were born," Suthanu said softly. "It has always given us sweet, ripe fruit, year after year. We treasure those fruits, don't we?"

Aniruddha nodded again, his sniffles quieting as he listened.

"But look there, beneath it," Suthanu continued, pointing to a small sapling that had just begun to grow. "That little tree is new. It's small, fragile, and needs special care. We water it, give it extra attention, because it's just starting its journey. Does that mean the older tree is any less important?"

Aniruddha blinked, his brow furrowing as he tried to understand. "No... but it's different, Maa."

"Yes, it's different," Suthanu agreed, her voice tender. "Just like you and Vajra are different this moment. You are my strong, beautiful tree that has been with me for so long, giving me joy every day and when you were little - people celebrated you wholly Ladla. You are the future of Dwarka , always. Vajra is like the little sapling—he's younger, and he needs more attention right now because he's still learning, still growing."

She cupped his small face in her hands, her eyes brimming with love. "But that doesn't mean I love the sapling more than I love the older tree. Just like the mango tree gives us sweet fruit, you, my Ladla, give me sweetness every day. Your smile, your laughter, your strength... they fill my heart in ways you can't even imagine."

"But..." Aniruddha's voice was small, hesitant. "I don't feel special anymore, Choti Maa. Not like before. I feel my love has been divided"

Suthanu smiled through her tears, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Oh, my child, you are so special to me. You're the one who taught me how to be a mother. You were my gift from the gods, the one who brought light into my life when I was lost in darkness. Your place in my heart is irreplaceable. Do you know why?" Suthanu pushed down the terrible ache as she remembered the loss of Anjanaparvan. 

Aniruddha shook his head, his wide eyes locked onto hers, searching for the truth in her words.

"Because," Suthanu said, her voice thick with emotion, "you are the one who taught me how to love without limits. You made me a mother, Ladla. You showed me the meaning of love in a new light. How could you ever not be special to me?"

Aniruddha's lip quivered as more tears spilled from his eyes, but this time they weren't tears of sorrow. He buried his face in her chest, holding her tightly as if afraid to let go.

"I'm sorry, Choti Maa," he whispered, his voice muffled by her sari. "I just... I just miss you."

Suthanu stroked his hair, her own tears falling freely now. "And I've missed you too, my son. But you will never lose me, Aniruddha. No matter how many brothers or sisters you may have, you will always have a special place in my heart. That will never change."

She pulled him back just enough to look into his eyes. "Remember, the older tree may not need as much water and attention as the sapling, but it is still the one that provides shade and comfort. You are my shade, our comfort, Ladla. Never doubt your place in this family."

Aniruddha sniffed again, but a small smile began to tug at the corners of his lips. "So... you really love me just as much as Vajra?". 

Suthanu laughed softly, kissing his forehead again. "Of course, my sweet boy. Just as much, if not more. You are one from whom I can never break."

Aniruddha hugged her tightly once more, his small arms wrapped around her as though he never wanted to let go. And in that moment, Suthanu felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders. She looked at Bhanu who stood near the palace looking upon her with a teary smile along the Pradyumna and Rukmavati ; their little one will never face this day again. 

Later that evening, as the sun began to set and the sky was painted in hues of gold and crimson, little Vajra sat quietly by the lotus pond, his eyes reflecting the soft ripples on the water's surface. His young heart still weighed heavy with confusion and sadness from the day's events. He had heard his mother's sobs and seen his father's struggle, but the most troubling of all had been his own feelings—feelings he couldn't understand, feelings that made his chest ache as though he had been struck by an invisible arrow.

He stared into the water, lost in thought, when a familiar voice broke the silence, gentle yet firm like the wind stirring the lotus petals.

"What troubles you, my child?" Satyabhama, the fierce and compassionate queen of Krishna, and his grandmother, sat beside him, her golden anklets softly jingling as she folded her hands in her lap. Her eyes, though aged with time, still held the sharp clarity and warmth of the warrior she had always been.

Vajra turned to her, his small brows knitted together in a mix of confusion and sadness. "Pitamahi, I don't understand what's happening. Why was Maiya crying? Why did Jyeshtha run away? And why does it hurt here?" he asked, placing his tiny hand over his heart.

Satyabhama's gaze softened as she watched the young boy struggling with emotions far too complex for his tender age. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing him closer to her. "Ah, my little dulhara," she whispered, "what you're feeling is something we all experience, even the greatest of warriors and kings. It is the weight of love and the responsibility that comes with it."

Vajra looked up at her, still puzzled. "But why does it hurt? Isn't love supposed to be good? Responsibility , what is responsibility? "

Satyabhama smiled, her heart swelling with affection for the boy. "Yes, love is good. It is the most powerful force in the world. But true love, my child, is not always easy. It can be as soft as a lotus flower and as heavy as a mountain. Sometimes, it brings joy so great you feel like you could fly, but other times, it brings sorrow so deep that it feels like your heart might break. One lesson at time, you will learn about responsibility some other time."

Vajra frowned, his small hands tugging at the hem of his tunic. "But why does it make people cry? Like today... Maiya and Jyestha were both crying. And I felt like crying too, but I didn't know why."

Satyabhama tilted his chin up gently so his eyes met hers. "Because, little one, when you love someone deeply, their pain becomes your pain. You felt your mother's sorrow, just as she feels yours. You and Aniruddha may be brothers, but today you witnessed how fragile love can be when there is misunderstanding. Yet, this is also where love's strength lies. Love allows us to heal, to come back to each other, no matter how far apart we may feel."

Vajra's eyes widened slightly as he tried to grasp her words. "So... is that why I felt like something was hurting inside me? Because I love them? Also , what is misunderstanding , Pitamahi?"

Satyabhama nodded. "Yes, exactly. You felt the pain of others, and that is the heart of compassion. But listen to me, Vajra," she continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "There is a great power in this feeling. Not everyone has the ability to truly feel the pain of others. You do. And that is what will make you a strong protector, a great Kshatriya. But you must also learn how to carry this power." Satyabhama had skipped the question of misunderstanding for the moment. 

Vajra blinked up at her, unsure. "How, Pitamahi?"

Satyabhama sighed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "By understanding that love and pain are inseparable. The more you love, the more you will feel the pain of others. But that pain will give you the strength to stand by them, to protect them when they need you. Just as the strongest warriors carry the heaviest shields, those with the greatest love carry the most sorrow. But in that sorrow, you will find your courage."

The boy's young face scrunched as he pondered her words, his small hands clenching into fists as if trying to hold onto this new understanding. "But... I don't want Maiya or Jyestha to cry again. I want to protect them."

Satyabhama's smile returned, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears , her little grandchild wanted to protect without actually knowing the meaning of it - he is the sun yet to rise. She took his small hands in hers, holding them firmly. "And you will, dulhara. One day, you will grow strong, not just in body but in heart. You will protect them, and many others. But for now, you are still young. It's okay to feel confused. It's okay to feel sad. What matters is that you learn from these moments and that you never stop caring for those you love."

Vajra nodded slowly, still unsure of the full depth of her words but comforted by her presence. He nestled closer to her, resting his head on her lap as he stared out at the lotus pond, the reflection of the fading sun shimmering across the surface.

Satyabhama ran her fingers through his hair, her heart swelling with pride and love for the boy in her lap. "You know, Vajra," she said softly, "in all the great battles and wars I've seen, in all the conflicts I've been a part of, it wasn't the strongest or the most skilled who truly won. It was always those who carried the most love in their hearts. That is the secret to strength. Not just swords or arrows, but love .The one whose heart is compassionate turns an ocean ; gives yet never loses itself"

Vajra looked up at her, his large eyes full of wonder. "You mean like Pitamaha Krishna?"

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "Yes, like your Pitamaha. He fought many battles, but the greatest of all was the battle of the heart. It's a battle you will fight too, my little Vajra. And I know, just like Swami, you will win."

In that moment, Vajra felt the weight on his heart begin to lift. He still didn't fully understand everything his grandmother had said, but he knew one thing for sure: he was not alone in this journey. His family, his loved ones—they were all part of him, and he was part of them. And in that connection, he found strength.

As the sky darkened and the stars began to peek through the velvet sky, Satyabhama held him close, humming a soft lullaby. And for the first time since the events of the day, Vajra closed his eyes, feeling the peace of his grandmother's love wash over him. 

The air in the royal chambers was heavy with the remnants of the day's events. Suthanu and Bhanu, Pradyumna and Rukmavati, sat together, still processing the emotional upheaval that had unfolded. Krishna and Rukmini soon joined them, sensing that their children needed them

Krishna, always gentle but perceptive, sat beside his children. His presence, though calming, carried the weight of deep understanding. Rukmini, ever the nurturing mother, sat next to him, her eyes soft yet unwavering.

For a moment, no one spoke. The tension of the day still lingered in the air, but it was Krishna who broke the silence with his warm voice.

"My children," Krishna began, looking at Suthanu and Bhanu, "I know today has been difficult. I felt your hearts tremble beneath the weight of this misunderstanding." He paused, his gaze moving to Rukmavati and Pradyumna, "But it is in moments like these that we must instill in them: family love is not a competition, it's a shared space where every heart has its place."

Rukmini, with her hands folded in her lap, nodded softly before speaking. "Children are like the petals of a flower. No two petals are the same, yet each is essential to the bloom. Aniruddha, Vajra... they both need to feel that they are a part of this family's beauty, without comparing themselves to one another."

Suthanu, her eyes glistening with fresh tears, finally spoke. "I feel like I failed Aniruddha, Maa. I never wanted him to think that I loved Vajra more. I love them both equally... but he... he thought that I had forgotten him." Her voice broke as she looked down at her hands.

Bhanu, who had been silent for some time, placed a gentle hand on his wife's shoulder. "Thanu, you've always been a wonderful mother. But perhaps Aniruddha has been struggling quietly for longer than we realized. Today, we saw the depth of his pain, but now we have made him understand."

Pradyumna, whose guilt was evident in his downcast eyes, sighed heavily. "I've been too focused on my duties, too focused on making sure Aniruddha is strong... that I forgot to look after his heart. I didn't see the loneliness growing inside him."

Krishna leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with wisdom. "Strength without compassion becomes a burden. Aniruddha may not understand everything that is happening in his heart, but he needs to feel understood. Love, my son," Krishna looked at Pradyumna, "is the greatest strength you can offer him."

Pradyumna looked at his father, his voice barely a whisper. "I almost raised my hand to him today, Pita. I lost control."

Krishna's expression remained gentle. "It's never too late to make amends, Pradyumna. Love can heal even the deepest wounds if you're willing to let it guide you."

Rukmini placed a hand on Pradyumna's head gently. "Aniruddha needs you now, more than ever - his MahaNayaka. He knows that his father's love for him is unwavering but make him understand you will never leave his side. Will always understand his heart , let him speak and forever , trust him. Show him, Pradyumna, not through discipline, but through the tenderness that only a father can give."

Pradyumna nodded, his heart heavy with both guilt and resolve. "I will, Maa. I will show him that my entire world rests on him."

Rukmavati, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was soft, but filled with a wisdom as alwyas. "We all have moments where we feel unseen, where the love we receive seems less than the love we give. But, in truth, love is never diminished by being shared and we have to just make our children see that truth , Swami. Just as the moon doesn't steal the light of the stars, neither does one child steal the love meant for another."

Pradyumna smiled softly , nodding his head as Rukmavati smiled. Together , they will guide all their children.

Bhanu, who had remained silent for much of the conversation, finally spoke, his voice low but full of emotion. "I've been thinking about how often we focus on what we see—how much time and attention each child receives. But what we forget is that love, like a tree, grows differently for each branch. Vajra and Aniruddha... they are different, but they both need the same thing from us: reassurance that they belong."

Krishna leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. "And you, Bhanu? Do you see yourself and Thanu in Vajra?"

Bhanu paused, considering the question. "I see fragments of both of us in him , Pita. But I understand , each child's need is different. I suppose, in some way, I am still learning how to be a father."

Krishna smiled warmly. "None of us are born perfect parents, lal. Not even me. But what matters most is that we keep trying, with open hearts."

Rukmini added softly, "Your children don't need you to be perfect. They need you to be present. And from what I see, all of you— Pradyumna , Rukmavati , Bhanu and Suthanu—are deeply present in their lives."

The door creaked open, and little Vajra peeked inside. His eyes were wide with worry, and his feet hesitated at the threshold.

"Jyestha...?" Vajra's small voice broke the silence. "Are you... mad at me?"

Aniruddha looked up, startled. Seeing his little brother standing there, looking so innocent and concerned, caused his heart to ache even more. He quickly wiped his eyes and shook his head. "No, little one. I'm not mad at you. Come here."

Vajra hesitated for only a moment before running across the room and climbing onto the bed beside Aniruddha. He looked up at his older brother, his eyes full of confusion. "Then... why did you cry, Jyestha? Why did you run away?"

Aniruddha sighed, his young heart struggling to find the right words. "I... I don't know, Vajra. I was just... sad. Sometimes I feel like... like everyone loves you more than they love me. And I didn't mean to make our parents sad. I just—" His voice cracked, and he quickly turned away, trying to hide his tears. He had hurt his parents , misunderstanding them.

Vajra, in his innocent confusion, climbed into Aniruddha's lap and wrapped his small arms around his brother's neck. "But Jyestha, I love you! And I know maiya and pita love you too. Badi Maa and Bade Pita always talk about you, and Pita says you're the best big brother in the world."

Aniruddha looked down at his little brother, and despite the ache in his chest, he couldn't help but smile at Vajra's pure-hearted sincerity. "You really think so?"

Vajra nodded earnestly. "Yes! And you always take care of me. You're the best, Jyestha."

Aniruddha felt something shift in his heart. He hugged his little brother tightly, resting his chin on Vajra's small head. "You're a good little brother, Vajra. I'm sorry for making you worried."

Vajra hugged him back, his small arms squeezing as tight as they could. "Don't be sad anymore, Jyestha . I don't like it when you're sad."

Aniruddha's heart melted at his brother's words, and he finally let go of the last remnants of the sadness that had been eating away at him. He realized then that no matter what doubts or fears he might have, his parents always loved him aand Vajra looked up to him, trusted him. And that, in itself, was more than enough.

As they sat there, holding each other in the quiet of the room, Aniruddha knew that despite the difficult day, they would always have each other. 

To be continued...

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