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Author Thought
Hi,
Just for information Asna river is a tribute river which later combines with River Ganga down east. So in a way it's a part of ganga.
Kunti is the name of a kingdom during Mahabharat.
Dravida Kingdom also the same which includes states of Karnataka, Tamil Nadu, Kerala and some part of Andra Pradesh.
In my story the Dravida Kingdom is ruled by three Dynasties
Chola's : part of Andra and Tamil Nadu
Pandya's : Southern part of Tamil Nadu, and Kerala
Chera's : Karnataka and North part of Kerala.
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The sun crept over the horizon, casting a soft golden hue across the palace walls of kingdom of kunti rules by King kuntibhoja. Inside, Princess Pritha (Later Known as kunti)sat alone, her heart heavy with a secret too divine for the world to bear. In her arms lay a newborn—his skin radiant, his earrings gleaming like celestial fire. Karna. Born of Surya, the sun god, yet destined to be hidden from the world.
She had invoked a boon in youthful curiosity, never imagining the weight it would carry. Now, the child she bore was a living testament to divine power—and social peril. Her lips trembled as she whispered a prayer to Surya, asking forgiveness for what she was about to do. Wrapping the infant in silken cloth, she placed him gently in a basket woven from reeds and hope.
The Asna river (Also Known as Ashwagandha) flowed silently below, its waters shimmering with morning light. Kunti descended the steps, each one a battle against her maternal instinct. She knelt by the riverbank, kissed Karna's forehead, and with trembling hands, released the basket into the current. The river accepted him without protest, carrying the child toward a destiny shaped by abandonment, resilience, and war.
Far to the Dravida Kingdom in Cheras province, deep within the lush forests of Dakshin Bharat, the Varha tribe stirred with celebration. Their deity, Lord Varaha, an ancient avatar of Vishnu, was said to guard the balance between beast and man. Unlike the gods prayed in the northern kingdoms, Varaha was primal, earthy, and revered through dance and fire.
In a modest hut woven from bark and vine, Kalyani, wife of the tribe leader Bhaira a Atirahi level warrior, cradled her newborn son. The child's eyes, sharp and unblinking, scanned the room with eerie calm. He did not cry. He did not flinch. He simply watched.
Outside, a maiden rushed to Bhaira, her voice breathless. "A son," she announced. "Your second child is born.
Bhaira's heart surged. He pushed past the gathered tribespeople and entered the hut. Kalyani sat on a straw mat, her face serene, her arms wrapped around the infant. Beside her stood their daughter, Shakthi, barely seven, her gaze fixed on her brother.
"Why doesn't he cry?" Shakthi asked, her voice tinged with wonder.
Kalyani smiled softly. "It's like he understands what we are talking."
Bhaira knelt beside them, studying the boy's face. The child's eyes met his, unwavering and deep. It was as if the boy had already measured the world and found it wanting. Bhaira felt a chill—not of fear, but of reverence.
"He is not ordinary," Bhaira murmured. "He is born with strong will."
He lifted the child gently and declared, "His name shall be Dhira—the wise, the composed, the courageous."
Outside, the tribe danced in reverence to Varaha. Drums echoed through the forest, and firelight flickered against the trees. But within the hut, a new story had begun—one that would echo through forests and battlefields, through gods and mortals.
As Karna floated down the Asna river, and Dhira opened his eyes to the world, destiny stirred. Two sons. Two paths. One epic.
One would rise in the hub of politics and betrayal, forged by rejection and honor. The other would grow in the shadows of the forest, forged through timeless knowledge and endurance. And though they were different in their aspect, the ripples of their births would one day collide in the great tapestry of fate.