Suthanu's heart raced as Vajra looked towards her, his eyes wide with confusion and a deep longing for answers. She felt the weight of the moment—what should she tell him? The truth, as raw and brutal as it was, would tear his innocence apart. His young mind could not grasp the complexities of the war, the cause , the bloodshed, and the loss that came with it. It would be too much, too soon.

She bent down to his level, taking his small hands in hers, her voice calm and steady despite the storm of emotions within. "Lal," she began softly, her eyes brimming with love and warmth, "sometimes people we love have to go far away to find something important—something that only they can do."

Vajra blinked, his brow still furrowed as he tried to understand. "Go away?" he echoed, glancing back at Dhritirashtra who sat motionless, his blind eyes wet with unshed tears.

Suthanu smiled, though her heart ached with the weight of the incomplete truth she was about to tell. But she knew it was a necessary one, for his sake and for the sake of her own family. "Yes, Lal. Just like a little bird, when it grows strong enough, it learns to fly. It leaves the nest to explore the sky and find its own way. The sons of your Pramātāmahaḥ... they were like those birds. They found their purpose and flew away."

Vajra's eyes softened, the metaphor wrapping around his innocent mind like a comforting blanket. His small fingers squeezed hers tightly as he looked between his mother and Dhritirashtra, still struggling to reconcile what he had just heard.

"So... they're not here because they're flying?" he asked, his voice small but filled with a tentative understanding.

"Yes," Suthanu whispered, her voice gentle. "They've gone to a place where we can't follow, but they carry the love of your Pramātāmahaḥ with them always, just like the bird remembers the warmth of its nest even when it's far away."

Vajra's lips quivered, but then he gave a small nod, his heart accepting the words of his mother. "They didn't forget him?"

"No, Lal," Suthanu reassured him, her hand brushing his cheek tenderly. "How could they? The love they shared is too strong to be forgotten."

Bhanu stood nearby, his chest in relief as he watched Suthanu navigate the delicate truth, carefully protecting their son's innocence. The Pandavas exchanged silent glances, all of them quietly grateful for the grace with which Suthanu handled the situation.

Vajra, his confusion soothed, turned on his little feet and made his way back to Dhritirashtra. The old man still sat in the same place, his shoulders hunched, his expression one of deep grief and guilt. He would have brought about an unpleasant situation but Suthanu was careful in covering up. 

Vajra crawled into his lap once again, placing his small hands on Dhritirashtra's trembling ones. "Pramātāmahaḥ," he said softly, his voice filled with the sweetness only a child could muster. "Don't be sad. They didn't forget you. They're just flying in their sky. Like the birds."

Dhritirashtra let out a shaky breath, his chest tight with sorrow as Vajra's innocent words broke through the barrier of his grief. The weight of losing his sons still bore heavily on him, but the little boy's attempt to console him, in all his naivety and love, touched something deep within.

"They remember you," Vajra continued, his eyes wide and sincere as he placed his tiny hand over Dhritirashtra's heart. "Like I remember my home when I go out to play. They'll come back when they're done."

A tear escaped from Dhritirashtra's blind eyes, but this time, it was not only from sorrow. There was something in Vajra's words—a purity, a belief—that lightened his burden, even if just for a moment. He gently wrapped his arms around the child, holding him close to his chest, feeling the warmth of his small body.

"Thank you, little one," Dhritirashtra whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You are... truly a light."

Vajra smiled, snuggling deeper into the embrace. "I'll always be here," he said simply, the promise as pure as his heart. "To make you smile."

The room, still heavy with unspoken truths, seemed to breathe a little easier in the wake of Vajra's innocence and compassionate heart. Suthanu and Bhanu stood silently, their hearts filled with both relief and sorrow. The Pandavas, too, exchanged glances, their own burdens from the past surfacing but softened by the innocence of the child before them. 

But they were troubled , truth had to come out on one day or the other. 

As the doors to Yudhishthira's chamber creaked open, the faint flicker of oil lamps cast a golden glow across the room. Suthanu and Bhanu entered quietly, their steps soft against the stone floor. Yudhishthira sat by the window, gazing out at the darkening sky, lost in thought. He turned to them, his face drawn, as if the weight of unspoken words had been pulling at him for hours.

Without preamble, he spoke, his voice heavy with concern. "What you did earlier... was it right?" His eyes searched Suthanu's, though they held no judgment, only a deep uncertainty. "You lied to him, Bangaram."

Suthanu took a breath, meeting his gaze calmly. "I didn't lie, Pita," she began softly. "I just... didn't complete the truth."

Yudhishthira's brow furrowed, the lines of worry deepening. "But the truth, incomplete as it is, still holds its power. One day, Vajra will grow older. He will ask questions—harder questions—and when he learns what really happened, he may feel betrayed." He paused, his voice growing softer. "He may even hate me , hate the Pandavas."

A silence hung in the air as Yudhishthira's fears settled heavily between them. The man who had borne the burden of the Kurukshetra war, who had lost family, friends, and honor in the fires of that battle, now feared losing the love of his grandson.

Suthanu stepped forward, her voice steady and sure. "Lal could never hate you, Pita. He has too much of a tender heart. What I told him today... it was necessary for now. He's too young to bear the truth of that war. His mind sees the world in clear lines—good and bad, black and white. But when he grows, he will understand the grey, the complexities."

She knelt beside Yudhishthira, placing a hand gently on his palm that rested on his lap. "The time will come when he's ready to learn the full truth, and when that day arrives, he will not hate you. He will ask why, and we will tell him. But he will still love you because if he will learn your mistakes then he will learn about your harsh penance too , Pita"

Bhanu, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke, his voice a soothing contrast to the tension in the room. "Pita," he began with a smile, "do you not know your own grandson by now? Have you seen how he looks at you? With all the respect and admiration in his little heart , you are his hero Pita?"

Yudhishthira remained silent, though the lines on his forehead seemed to soften just a little.

Bhanu stepped forward, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "And if you fear that one day he'll grow up, cross his arms, and scold you for not telling him the truth... well, I'll take full responsibility for that scolding!" He threw up his hands dramatically. "Let him blame me! I'll tell him that it was all my idea anyways I am his strict father not his loving maiya who comprises all his life and world!"

Suthanu bit back a smile as Bhanu's words sank in shaking her head, lightening the air. Yudhishthira's lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the shadow on his face.

"Besides," Bhanu continued, winking at Suthanu, "between the two of us, we'll manage to soften the blow when the truth does come out. Vajra might get upset, sure, but hate? That's too big a word for our boy , Pita. He will never hate anyone in his lifetime , it's destructive. At the moment , he's all about love , mischief and flying birds, remember?"

Yudhishthira chuckled quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing as the laughter broke through his heavy thoughts. He looked from Bhanu to Suthanu, a small smile finally spreading across his face. "You always manage to lift the weight off my chest," he said, shaking his head. "Perhaps I'm too wrapped up in my own guilt to see that love does not fade so easily."

Bhanu grinned widely. "Ah, there it is! Our father smiles again. I was starting to think I'd need to get a jester in here to cheer you up!"

Suthanu laughed, playfully nudging Bhanu's arm. "I think the only jester here is you, Swami."

The room filled with soft laughter, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a blanket. For the first time since Vajra's innocent questions had pierced the air, the heaviness seemed to lift. The three of them shared a glance, knowing full well that the future held uncertainties, but in that moment, the love they shared for Vajra and for one another was enough to carry them through.

Yudhishthira leaned back, his heart lighter than before. "You're right," he admitted, his voice filled with affection. "Vajra is too full of love to let anger or hate consume him. And with both of you guiding him... I suppose I have nothing to fear."

"That's more like it," Bhanu said with a grin, coming to sit beside Yudhisthira. "Now, shall we find the boy and teach him something from your wisdom Pita? He seems to be quite curious about the world, and who better to guide him than his Mātāmahaḥ?"

Suthanu raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. "Swami, are you sure you want to trouble Pita at this hour especially with that little's one never-ending questions?"

Yudhishthira let out a hearty laugh, the sound echoing through the chamber. "I'll find him," he conceded, shaking his head at the memories. "But there are some lessons a child must never learn from his elders and you children always remember it."

Suthanu and Bhanu mock glared before Yudhisthira broke into a smile. Truth in it's most raw form. 

" Come now " , Yudhisthira opened his arms as Suthanu and Bhanu with smiles fell into his embrace ; happy at heart. 

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the great halls of Hastinapura. Inside Yudhishthira's chambers, little Vajra sat nestled comfortably in his grandfather's lap, his wide, curious eyes darting from one Pandava to the next. Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva had all gathered around, each wearing a fond smile as they looked at their grandson.

"Matamaha," Vajra said, his small voice filled with curiosity. "Maiya and pita were talking about someone named Pandu today. Can you tell me about him?"

The Pandavas exchanged glances, a shared silence passing between them. The name of their father carried weight, a mix of pride, love, and loss. Yudhishthira gently patted the boy's head, his heart already swelling with emotion.

"Ah, Rajrishi Pandu is your great-grandfather dulhara," Yudhishthira began, his voice steady and filled with warmth. " He was our father. And everything we are today, everything you see in this kingdom, is because of the sacrifices Pita made."

Vajra tilted his head slightly, a frown creasing his brow. "Sacrifices?"

"Yes," Bhima said, his deep voice booming across the room as he leaned in, eyes twinkling. "Pita was a king—mighty, strong, and loved by all. But his strength wasn't just in battle. His strength came from his heart, from making the hardest choice anyone could ever make."

Vajra turned his attention to Bhima, his small hand reaching out to grasp his grandfather's large, rough fingers. "What choice , Matamaha?"

Bhima's smile softened. "The choice to leave the throne."

Vajra's eyes grew wide. "Leave the throne? But why?"

Arjuna  leaned forward, his voice gentle as he added, "Our Pita was cursed, Vajra. One day, while hunting, he made a mistake, one that would change his life forever. He accidentally hurt a sage, and the sage cursed him, saying that he could never be close to our mothers—your great-grandmothers—or else he would lose his life. Because of that, he could not live the life of a king. He felt he had wronged in his duties of a king not just because he could not give the land it's next protector." 

What was curse? , Vajra wondered but he paid attention to their history , it was more interesting at the moment. 

Yudhishthira's face grew tender, his voice a soft hum as he took over. "Instead of ruling, Pita felt he had a greater purpose—to live in the forest, away from the throne, and find peace within himself. He knew that sometimes, being a king isn't about holding on to power. It's about knowing when to let go."

Vajra frowned in confusion. "Let go? But Pramātāmahaḥ was the king! Why would he leave?"

Nakula chimed in, his voice smooth and calming. "Imagine you had a bird, dulhara. A beautiful bird that you loved very much. If you kept it in a cage, even though you loved it, it would never be able to fly. Wouldn't it be kinder to let it go?"

Vajra's face lit up with understanding. "So, Pramātāmahaḥ let go... like the bird?"

"Yes," Sahadeva added, his voice quiet but filled with affection. "Pita let go, knowing it was the right thing to do. He gave up the throne"

Yudhishthira leaned in closer, his eyes filled with a deep sense of pride. "And in doing so, Pita left the throne to his elder brother, Dhritarashtra, believing that the kingdom would be safe in his hands."

Vajra was quiet for a moment, digesting the story. His small fingers played with the hem of Yudhishthira's robe as his mind raced with thoughts. "But... what happened to Pramātāmahaḥ after that?"

Yudhishthira's face grew somber as he continued, "Pita lived in the forest with your great-grandmothers, Kunti and Madri. And it was there, in the peaceful woods, that we were born—the five of us."

Vajra's eyes widened. "You were all born in the forest?"

Bhima chuckled. "Yes, little one. We were not born in palaces, surrounded by wealth and grandeur. We were born in the wild, under the trees, with only nature as our witness."

Arjuna smiled softly as he added, "Our Maa, your great-grandmother, had a special blessing. She could call upon the gods to help her, and it was with their blessings that we came into this world."

Vajra's eyes sparkled with wonder. "The gods?"

"Yes," Yudhishthira said, his voice softening with memory. "I was born with the blessing of Dharmaraja, the god of righteousness. Bhima, with the strength of Vayu, the wind god. Arjuna was blessed by Indra, the king of the gods, and Nakula and Sahadeva were born with the grace of the Ashwini Kumaras, the twin gods of healing."

Vajra's small mouth hung open, his imagination running wild with the thought of gods and divine blessings. "So you're all sons of the gods?"

Sahadeva smiled gently, brushing a hand through Vajra's soft hair. "We were blessed, yes. But the true gift came from our father, our Pitashri, who taught us that being noble and just was the most important thing of all."

Vajra looked around at his grandfather, his young mind racing to understand everything. He looked back at Yudhishthira, a question still lingering in his innocent eyes. "But if Pramātāmahaḥ was so good, why did he go to the forest?"

Yudhishthira paused, his gaze softening. "Pita went to the forest because he felt that his purpose lay beyond the throne. He believed that true strength came not from ruling, but from knowing when to step back. He chose to live a life of peace, where he could grow in ways he couldn't as a king and for the greater happiness of his citizens."

Vajra was quiet, his small hand resting against Yudhishthira's chest. "So... he gave up the crown for something bigger?"

Arjuna smiled. "Exactly, little one. He gave it up for something bigger"

Vajra's eyes filled with awe, and he leaned closer into Yudhishthira's embrace. "Pramātāmahaḥ must have been very wise," he whispered.

"Pita was," Yudhishthira said quietly, his heart swelling with pride. "And because of him, we learned that being a king is not about the throne—it's about doing what is right, no matter the cost."

Vajra snuggled closer, his little heart filled with admiration for the great man he had never met. "I think... Pramātāmahaḥ is like the lion of the forests , a true ruler of our family."

The room fell into a gentle silence, the warmth of family surrounding them. Bhima smiled softly, his large hand resting on Vajra's head. "Yes, little one. Pita was lion among men indeed , a great man"

As Vajra looked up at each of his grandfathers, a small smile spread across his face. "I want to be like Pramātāmahaḥ"

Yudhishthira's heart swelled with love as he hugged the boy close. "And you will be, dulara," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You will be , it is my blessing."

Rajrishi Pandu - a legend in himself was passed on to the the heart of the youngest member of his own family. 

To be continued...

So , here comes the next chapter. 

The history of Kurus is slowly emerging in front of Vajra's eyes. Do you think the incomplete truth would break upon Vajra? 

Target - 60 votes ( from 30 ) 

Please do leave your votes and comments !