Uttara

This is part of the "Uttara Series" You will find under the Mahabharata. The series is also available on Wattpad.

She knew him as Brihannala, her dance teacher. She learned the skills of graceful dancing from him. He turned out to be Arjun, the greatest of warriors. She still could not believe that the lady who did her mother's makeup was, in fact, Samragni Draupadi. Her twin brother Uttar was quite excited to know that Maharathi Arjun would teach him archery at their palace. She was sitting in the Palace Gardens with her brother when a guard came in.

" Princess of Matsya, your father has called you to the Chambers. It is urgent."
Both the twins made their way to the chambers where their parents sat with the Pandavas. Their father announced to

" It was a pleasure having you people at the Palace of Matsya. I proposed the marriage of my daughter to Maharathi Arjun. He accepted it for his son. Coming week, we will send a letter to Dwarka asking Vasudeva to arrive with the groom and Subhadra."She was surprised. Marriage to her teacher's son? Who was he? She sat in her chambers when Panchali came in.

" Uttara, are you happy?

" Yes, Samragni."

" Please call me Jesh Maata. My Abhimanyu calls me that."
" Abhimanyu?"
" He is the son of Subhadra and Arjun, my second son of the five."
" How is he?" Uttara asked shyly.
" Madhav says he is a brave warrior like his father, a gentle person like his mother, and has self-esteem like me." " He takes care of every friend like family and kills every enemy like ants." " He can break and kill many Akshoyini senas in a day. He can destroy an entire army alone." " He is handsome like his father and fair like his mother." Uttara built his image in her imagination.

Back in Dwarka, a letter arrived for Vasudeva from Matsya and another for Subhadra from Arjun. It had good news. Subhadra rushed to the courtyard, where her son was practising his sword.
" Abhimanyu! It's your father's letter!"
" What is it, Mata? Has he asked me to go to war?" The sixteen-year-old raised his sword like a pro.
" No, not yet. He has chosen a bride for you. The princess of Matsya, we are leaving for Viratnagar tomorrow."
" A bride? But Maata, the war is only a few months away."
"It's your father's decision, you have to do as he says."
Abhimanyu sat confused in the gardens. He had been ready to die for his father, but this, he was not sure.
Krishna came to him, " What are you thinking, Vatsya?"
" Mamashri, how can my father ask me to marry under these conditions? Isn't it unfair to the princess?"

" Vatsya, wars go on every day in our lives, but that does not stop us from living and loving. You deserve your share of family life, too, Parth is right."
" Can't the wedding wait till we win the war?"
Krishna's smile disappeared. " No, when your father says it's next week, you get married next week." His voice was strict. Abhimanyu looked up at his serious face. Krishna smiled again and started pulling his leg. " And from what I hear, Uttara is very talented."
" Who is Uttara?"
" The princess of Matsya. She dances gracefully, she can cook and loves to talk."
" Is it fair to her to get married and go to war so quickly?"
" She is braver than you think, Abhimanyu. She will prove her bravery with time. Don't underestimate any woman."
" But I don't know...."
" Get ready, we will leave soon."

The way from Dwarka to Viratnagar was a long one. The people who had arrived from Matsya to escort them to their land were chatting in the clearing where they had dinner. Abhimanyu sat alone, overhearing their conversations.
" Our princess is so beautiful, I heard they were going to arrange her swayambhar soon, and there were lots of Princes wanting to marry her."

" Yes, she is more worthy of an heir than her brother"
Abhimanyu now had the curiosity of meeting this princess. Back in Matsya, Uttara was already in love. She looked at the moonlit sky and smiled to herself. The prince was like moonlight in the night sky, somebody had told. She now awaited a meeting.

Maharana Pratap: The Sun of Mewar

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Roopmati had watched the troops leave. She had stood behind the chief queen as she traditionally bid goodbye to her sons. She had waited for the Sultan to come to her. He did. He was confident that the sudden advancement of Akbar’s foster brother Adham Khan could be curbed. It was not war, just precaution. He reassured her. Malwa would never bow to the Timurids. And he would not let anything happen to her. To Her. Roopmati felt suffocated by her husband’s affectionate hug. She felt trapped in the scrutinising eyes of all the people in the palace. Angry, blaming eyes. She tried to pace herself and sing, but her voice cracked in fear. Her melody was drowned in tears. Every evening, a messenger would come to the chief queen with the news of war. Roopmati was kept in the darkness. She was not told about anything. She knew the rumours. She was a witch. A temptress who caused doom to the Sultan of Malwa. She was a spy of the enemy planted in his life to destroy him. She wondered if he came b...

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