It is the duty of the warriors to fight, to kill and shed blood - their own and of others. They all were here and doing their duties. They all gave their finest, fighting for their cause and the causes of their friends, their Kings.
And now it is over. The field looks heinous and red, bodies and body parts scattered around.
It still echoes in his head, millions of men shouting and screaming, lunging at each other to rip and shred, desirous of seeing blood on their blade and hands. He keeps replaying in his head, those delighted looks and howl of victory when the opponent's eyes lost its light and the life left the mangled wounded body, he recognizes those looks because he was one of those people too. He recollects how bodies around him were falling lifeless while he was busy shooting and shooting and shooting while a part of his brain was pleading every divine deity to keep his brothers and family safe.
But then Abhimanyu was spread out, unmoving on the ground and everyone around him was grieving and crying. No one was trying to heal his son's soiled and deep wounds, no one even talked about trying to nurse his son back to health -- His beautiful and dead son.
Arjuna did not have too much of a problem to let go of every fragment of humanity in him after that night. He slaughtered more soldiers that day then put together from the previous ones.
He destroyed more than half of the Kaurava Army to avenge his son.
He took pleasure in it like everyone else did. They were all just enemies now.
Not fellow humans, not nephews or brothers or parents. He adopted their technique too.
He was a warrior, nothing else. And warriors killed- ruthlessly and without sentiments.
"He was your brother", they say now. "He was our brother", Yudhishtira mumbles.
Arjuna cries.
He killed his Mother's first born.
His mother kept hugging them to her chest, sobbing in relief and whimpering in pain. She cries for the son who wasn't really a son. She cries for her beloved grandsons. She prays to her husband to look after her children. Arjuna weeps for her because she lost a son even though she never was much of a mother to him.
Arjuna shed tears because he unknowingly killed a person who had shared his Mother's womb. He cries because they hated each other. He cries because they had no care for for each other in spite of sharing the same Yadu blood. He cries because he loves all his brothers like they are his own limbs and he still does not love his Mother's eldest son.
No love lost, no love found.
He is drowning in this guilt but no one is blaming him, no one looks at him like he is a killer, a culprit. They are all too busy blaming themselves to fault him.
So Arjuna sobs because he killed the person who was generous enough to promise that he won't take the lives of Arjuna's brothers but couldn't extend the same generosity to Arjuna.
Because blood doesn't matter,because it wasn't Arjuna's brothers who were excused, it was Kunti's sons. He cries because the man excused Nakula and Sahdeva, with whom there was no relation at all--not of love or of blood.
Because those two are Kunti's son through and through and her love for them knows no bounds - and they don't have her blood.
And so Arjuna cries because he knows that blood doesn't instigate affection or love, because he and his elder brothers love the younger two and it has become stronger than ever after decades of living together, caring and worrying for each other.
So, Arjuna cries for Yudhishtira - because Arjuna two elder brothers, he had them since the moment he was born and he still has them. Bhima too has his elder brother and so do the twins. Arjuna despairs for Yudhishtira, who lost his elder brother.
Perhaps he needed one, perhaps he wanted one. Maybe we all want an elder brother.
And Arjuna cries because he is a person of present. He has learned from his beloved friend, not to dwell on his past or plan his future. He lives in Now. He has for years, ever since he was graced with the presence of the dark skinned man who he has faithfully dedicated his existence and actions to. This sense of Now was a long time coming-- he had seen it making its way towards him in those midnight black eyes filled with the wisest of wisdom and the most beautiful kind of mischief, when this massive Enigma of a Man had entered their hut after he had won the hands of the gorgeous spitfire of a woman as his wife. Those eyes were filled with gratifying promises of adventure, agitation, despair, happiness and completeness to come - but those lips twisted in a gentle mocking smile betraying fondness and longing - yes, that had sealed the deal for him .So he had jumped face first to embrace this bewildering fate and this Ridiculous Man, whose eyes had become suspiciously wet. But he was not in a position to play the blame game; he himself was helpless to the short bursts of tears and laughter - The sense of entirety had been breathtaking.
So he lets these tears out too, while he is still stuck in this limbo in the battle field. His 'Now' is standing still, while he makes sure to get the last drop of salty water out of his system-- Because after this, he never would. This War of Wars will be another event in his war filled past.
So for now, he just does ... He cries and feels foolish because there were sounds of laughter and victory in the enemy camp while they grieved for Abhimanyu. He doesn't despair because his son was killed. Who knows how many Fathers and Mothers lost their sons. He cant even count how many he himself killed.
But he does cry because his son had to die feeling like a wounded snake being circled by dozen of hungry vultures, ready and waiting for the opportunity to take him apart, because none of his uncles could extend him the honor to fight and die in one-on-one battle.He cries for those beautiful eyes of his son which will never shine with youth and love ever again. How unfortunate he is, he won't see his sons transition from a dear child to a besotted father. His Grandchild will never know the love of their Father.
His friend sits beside him, consoling him with his own comforting silence and aloof smile, gazing at the sunset, waiting for the blanket of darkness to engulf them in its cold embrace. Somewhere, temple bells are making beautiful tinkering sounds in great distance, cold breeze of air stroking their skin reminding him of the still wet tracks of tear going down his face. He feels it drying up though, and it assures his heart somewhat. At least he still has this Man right next to him and he knows it in his heart that he always had and he always will - in this life or another.
''It's time to move on, don't you think, Paarth? The birds fly to their homes, I see."
''Yes, it is,my lord but-- when the sun comes up again? Till then--Indulge me, will you please?"
"Whatever pleases you Parth, you know that very well.After all these years, do you still doubt that it is in my nature to do everything to please you.I have done the worst and the best of things for your sake and only yours. A little bit of pretending that the world is standing still wont hurt anyone much --Just dont look at the moon, it wont do any good to this game since it wont grant you your wish and stop moving because you feel like hiding from the changing time."
"
"
"
"Seriously, did I just babble? Did I speak in a language not understandable to you?Did my words fell deaf on your ears, my beloved friend. I said do not look at the moon, actually don't look at the stars either."
"No, no, stop it. You want to play wish-pretend or not? dont ruin it. Stop being childish"
"_"
" Childish? I am being childish? Did you just heard yourself, my Lord.Ridiculous, you are so ridiculous, oh God.My gracious God."
"Or -- you can just call me Vaasudeva, that is what they call me these days anyway."
<_<
"Did you just? ... Ridiculous, do you hear me?"
"Where are you going?"
"You mean where are we going, Madhav. We are going in my chambers to sleep."
"Yeah, that. So -- We are done playing for today?"
"We really are?"
"Really?"
"Yes, that is what i thought too."
*sigh*
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