Suyodhana was having a weird dream. He was seeing a battlefield. Lakshmana was there with him. They were fighting. Then Lakshmana dropped his weapons. “I’m really tired, father.” He said.
“But this is a battle, son!”
“So? Dying in battle is glorious, isn’t it? I don’t want to fight now. I want to die and get glory.”
The arrow came out of nowhere and Suyodhana jumped in front of it. It pierced his heart and he fell on to his son’s lap. Only, it was his father sitting there. He felt his face. “Suyodhana! My son!”
“Why do you weep?” An unfamiliar voice asked. “Death in battle is glorious!”
“But who shall do our last rites?” His mother’s voice floated in the air.
Suyodhana woke up with a start. His heart was hammering. He was also sweating profusely. He looked around the clearing. He judged it to be early morning. The faint rosy light of dawn was filtering down.
He looked around and saw he was alone. He rose, cautiously. He wondered if he might be able to escape. He walked to the edge of the clearing where the horses were tethered. Only his horse was there. He untied it, looped the reins and climbed on to its back. The horse took a few steps and stopped, refusing to go any further. He dismounted and walked forward, only to be stopped short by an invisible barrier.
He sighed. He had expected something of the sort. It was not in Krishna’s nature to be careless. He wondered if the barrier could be breached in anyway. He clenched his fist and punched it with all his strength.
A jolt went through him. He was thrown back, his arm numb. He hit his head and his side as he fell. He half rose, feeling his head with his other arm. It came away stained with blood.
His chest hurt. He looked down and saw the blood. Drawing breath was also hurting. It dawned on him that he had broken his ribs and punctured his lung. It felt like he was breathing in fire.
He coughed twice and lost consciousness.
oflifeandmyths 