|D for Dritharashtra|
Dritharashtra pressed both his hands against his blind eyes, wishing to pull them out of their sockets. Oh why! Why had he not been born normal? Why had he learned all the scriptures and the many methods of warfare? To what avail? Why had Bheeshma had him trained in all the virtues of a king if he had never meant him to become one? They could have killed him as a child. It would have been so much better. Dritharashtra rued his fate.
And hatred gushed from him towards Bheeshma, mother Satyavathi and his brother Pandu. Pandu had no qualms about accepting the crown of Hastinapura. How dared he? Did that mean that his, Dritharashtra’s, descendants would never ascend the thrown?
The keening sound emanating from Dritharashtra’s chambers made the servants move further away. They did not want to bear the brunt of the Arya prince’s anger. But Gandhari could sense her husband’s pain, his heartbreaking disappointment. She shed tears of sorrow for his broken dreams, his aspirations to rule the mighty kingdom of Hastinapura. She walked into the chamber to commiserate with her husband. And that night, that very night, Gandhari was impregnated.
All the disappointment, anger and jealousy in Dritharashtra got transferred to her womb – to be born as the hundred Kauravas. That night the seed of Kurukshetra was sown in Gandhari’s womb by Dritharashtra’s heartbreak.
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