Chapter 10: The Elder Brother's Tale
Karna's POV
It's been four years since I found Shon floating in the river Ganga. That day still plays in my mind as clearly as the sky on a spring morning. I remember how shocked I was, seeing a baby drifting helplessly on the water. No cries, no swinging—just those big, calm eyes. A miracle in itself that he survived the raging current.
At first, I thought he had been abandoned. But Radha Maa told me otherwise. She believed his parents must have died protecting him. She said no one in their right mind would leave a newborn to the mercy of a wild river. Even asuras would have more compassion for their children.
She had a point. If his parents didn't want to raise him, they could have at least taken him to an ashram or a temple. Somewhere safe. Somewhere with hope. But he don't know that there are exceptions , one that include him as his birth mother abandoned him in the raging ganga river.
I felt terrible for that little boy. Losing your parents at such a tender age... it crushed me. So I turned to Pitashree, unsure what would happen next.
"What will we do with him, Pitashree?"
His answer lit up my entire being.
"We will adopt him. He is your younger brother now."
And just like that, I became an elder brother.
A month after Shon's adoption, Pitashree threw a celebration. He said it was not only to welcome Shon but also because his salary had just been increased by the king. A double reason to smile.
Vrushali, my best friend, also came to see Shon. She instantly fell for his cuteness and pinched his cheeks. I, of course, had to show off a little.
"After all, whose brother is he?" I said, puffing out my chest.
But then, his eyes met mine.
And I swear—I know it sounds crazy—but I felt like he was mocking me. His tiny gaze had this weird... knowing look.
"No way," I told myself. "You're overthinking it. He's just a baby."
Still, it gave me goosebumps.
The day he spoke for the first time will haunt me forever. It marked the beginning of an ongoing nightmare.
His first word? Not Baba. Not Bhrata.
It was "Mama."
Radha Maa jumped up with joy. Then came "Baba." And finally, a full month later, "Bhrata." And even then, he didn't say it again for weeks.
I swear he was doing it on purpose.
When he started walking and running, the chaos reached a whole new level. Mischief followed him like a loyal pet. And somehow, I always got blamed.
"Bhrata told me to do it!" he'd say with the most innocent face.
And I'd be stuck there, speechless, as Radha Maa twisted my ear like it was tradition.
I tried denying it. I really did.
But against that baby-faced traitor? I never stood a chance.
One day, I saw him lifting a small pot with both hands. Muscles. Real muscles! I was stunned.
"No way my little brother is going to get ahead of me," I muttered.
I knew it was time. Time to train. Time to get serious.
A few days later, I wandered into a nearby forest. There, I saw a hunter using a bow to bring down a deer with precision. That moment changed something in me.
I fell in love.
With archery.
The grace, the focus, the impact—I wanted all of it.
I ran home and asked Pitashree, "Can I learn archery?"
He shook his head gently. "We are sutas, my son. Archery is not our path. We drive chariots. Fighting is for kshatriyas."
I couldn't accept that.
"Why should I follow a path I have no passion for? Why can't I pursue what I love?"
And then I looked at Shon.
His face lit up at the word "archery."
I saw it. The spark. That was all the confirmation I needed.
The next morning, I returned to the forest, determined to find that hunter.
After hours of searching, I finally found him again.
"Will you teach me?" I asked.
He hesitated. But after much convincing, he agreed to teach me the basics.
From that day, my routine changed.
I practiced every day. Morning till dusk.
I trained like my life depended on it.
I even began performing Surya Namaskar and praying to Suryadev every morning and evening. I don't know why, but I felt a deep connection with the Sun. I could look at it without blinking. No pain. No tears. Just peace.
One day, I returned home after training, exhausted. As I reached the gate, I noticed the house looked like it had been hit by a storm.
"Oh no... he's done it again."
I stepped in and saw Radha Maa twisting Shon's ear while he gave her the most adorable innocent face.
He saw me.
His eyes sparkled.
"Maa! Bhrata told me he hid some kheer in the house. He said if I could find it, he'd give me more. I told him it'd make a mess, but he insisted he'd take responsibility."
Radha Maa slowly turned toward me.
"I swear, it wasn't me!" I tried to protest.
Too late.
Her glare had already chosen its victim.
Me.
"Not again..."
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General POV
A few months after Bheem's birth, Pandu became fascinated with archery. He longed for a son who could become a great archer—graceful, powerful, and noble. So he turned to Kunti once more.
"Please summon Devraj Indra," he said. "Ask him to bless us with a child gifted in archery and purity."
Kunti agreed. She invoked Indradev, and soon, she was pregnant with her third child.
Two or three months into Kunti's pregnancy, Madri too longed for a child. Pandu spoke to Kunti and asked her to share the divine mantra.
Kunti, though initially reluctant, agreed.
Madri used the mantra and called upon the Ashwini Kumars.
She became pregnant with twins.
One would be known for his affinity with animals. The other, for his wisdom and intellect.
One year later, Kunti gave birth to her third son: Arjun.
Not long after, Madri gave birth to Nakul and Sahdev.
Arjun – four years younger than Shon.
Nakul and Sahdev – four years and three months younger than Shon.
Time flew.
When Shon turned five, all one hundred sons and one daughter of Gandhari had been born. The last was a girl named Dushala, the youngest of all Kurus.
And two to three months before Arjun's birth...
A different kind of child had arrived in Aryavrat.
A unique one.
Divine.
One whose name would echo through time and eternity.
A boy the world was not ready for.
But would never forget.
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