Maybe I was just another victim. A soul chosen to establish dharma by engraving its name as the villain. A part of me still believes I fought for what belonged to me, I fought for Dharma. But my heart is pounding. My soul isn’t silent.
I lost everything and everyone. I lost all of it only to be remembered as a villain. I fought the war all my life only to die alone. I dared to preserve the throne only to lose it to the Pandavas.
Today I know, the war was never about the throne of Hastinapur. It wasn’t about brothers fighting and it wasn’t about fighting for what belonged or what was promised. The war was to establish Dharma. To carve out a story that would inspire ages.
