Stories Made Simple

The news of the birth of Yudhishthira, the eldest son of Pandu and Kunti, made Dhritarashtra, the King of Hastinapur restless.  He poured his heart out to his charioteer, Sanjaya, who was more than a charioteer. He was the king’s mentor, counsellor, and closest friend, all rolled into one. “Would this mean Yudhisthira gets the first right to the throne of Hastinapur, Sanjaya?” “Why are you worrying about something that is still many years away, my king?” “You don’t and never will understand what it is to have a handicap,” replied the king, in a chagrined voice. “Thanks to my blindness, my younger brother, Pandu, was made king. Only when Pandu went into self-exile was I placed on the throne, and that too, only as a Regent. Bhishma, our grandsire, keeps the primary control. I fear this secondary treatment will pass on to my sons.” “Don’t worry, King Dhritarashtra. Queen Gandhari is holding 100 sons in her womb, thanks to Sage Vyasa’s boon. Your wish for an heir will soon be fulfilled.” “

The agonizing despair-laden wails of newly-widowed women and orphaned children covered the battlefield at Kurukshetra like a thick, suffocating, nauseating blanket. Yudhishthira , the eldest Pandava, was so deeply anguished with the sorrow he witnessed all around him that he wanted to throw up. But, how can a king show himself to be weak? So, he steeled himself looking down at the corpse of his dead cousin, Duryodhana, the eldest Kaurava, his thighs torn asunder by Bheema, the second Pandava.  Yudhishthira thought to himself, “I should be celebrating. I have won the great Mahabharata War. I am the undisputed emperor. All the injustices my family had suffered are corrected. The Pandavas have emerged victorious. And yet, why does my heart feel heavy? Why can’t I be happy?” And then, the event he dreaded the most came by. His Aunt Gandhari, the mother of the Kauravas, the faithful wife who chose to blindfold herself to live life like her blind husband, Dhridharashtra, came to mourn the de

The Asuras were at the pinnacle of their power. The strong and powerful King Bali with his massive asura hordes had wrenched control of the cosmos from the devas. The power of the devas was at its lowest ebb, dented by their own arrogance and vanity.  The Asuras had driven out the devas from Indraloka and had captured, plundered, and looted many of their regions. They were becoming increasingly powerful, and as expected, conceited and vain too. It was time for the tide to turn.   King Bali and Indra, the King of the Devas were standing on the shores of the Ocean of Milk, or the Kshirasagara. “So, the nectar of immortality is hidden in the depths of this vast ocean?” queried Bali. “Yes,” replied Indra. “And the combined strength of the asuras and the devas is needed to bring it up. Neither of us can do this task alone.” “I get that. That’s why I also agreed to a temporary truce between us. But mind you, the nectar should be shared equally amongst all the asuras and devas. No trickery th

D on't go, my dear husband,” pleaded Tara with Vali. “Something’s amiss. How did Sugreeva suddenly get the courage to challenge you?” “Don't fret, Tara. I’ll be fine. Anyway, who can defeat or kill me?” Vali’s chest puffed up in pride; a familiar gesture that not only filled her with dread but, of late, also annoyed and irritated her.  “Oh! I wish you would cut down on your confidence. I’ve told you many times that it comes across as haughty arrogance. Don't we all have to die? So, wouldn’t there be a cause for your death too?” Tara’s voice was angry, but the undercurrent of fear was unmistakable too. “Ok! Ok!” Vali responded, his anger matching hers. “ You are the only one who doesn't trust my power and might. Also, I can’t refuse a challenge. You know that it goes against the grain of my personality.” “At least make some enquiries about Sugreeva before you fight him. Has he made any new friends who are helping him?” “Pah! Stop worrying so much, Tara. I can take care o