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sambhavami · 1 month ago

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The Lost Flute - Part 15 (Angry Young Swan Song)

Krishna smiled brightly up at his sister-in-law, who seemed more annoyed than elated as she held the heavy, wooden door open for him.

---

Balarama’s marital home, at his wife’s request, had been constructed along a less-frequented beach outside the city. It was no secret that while she was a gracious host most of the times, she in fact did not prefer to have guests in her home.

The house itself was a rather quaint little thing that boasted of few ornamentations, albeit replete with large open spaces.

Both Rama and Revati being great patrons of music of music, never ceased to amaze Krishna at how carefully their house was decorated.

Upon the walls of each room, hung a litany of musical instruments, some of them exotic, some of them local. Only a select few of their acquaintances knew that Balarama, the fierce warrior, could actually play decent melodies on every single one of them.

The roofs, in stark contrast to the simple exterior of the house, was intricately decorated with the frescoes depicting Revati’s childhood. She liked staring at them whenever she missed her family.

“You forgot to send a messenger ahead, Krishna. I would have loved to have you over for dinner today.” Revati grimaced as she showed him to the living room of the mansion. Krishna mustered up his most charming smile as he followed her.

Evidences of a recent revelry were strewn across the long, bare halls. Krishna drew a sharp breath as a strong smell of sweat and alcohol hit his nostrils as they walked into the house’s coup-de-grace- the dance hall.

Somehow, the odour had persevered in the air despite the magnificent hall opening into a spectacular hanging garden overlooking the ocean. Flower broken from intricate buns, mislaid ghungroo bells and desolate glasses lay strewn about.

“Like I said, dinner would’ve been prettier. Drink?” Revati sighed, holding out a glass at Krishna.

“It’s noon.” Krishna gave her a melancholic smile as he shook his head, “What are you two doing, Reva?”

“Entertaining you when I really don’t want to.” Revati retorted.

Krishna chuckled in spite of himself. His beloved sister-in-law had always had a sharp tongue, and he was one of the few with whom she shared her honest self.

“Come on now,” He whispered, as he wildly waved his hand at the room, “You surely can’t believe all of this is good!”

“I am sick of fighting it, Krishna. I lost my father, then you took my kingdom. I do not wish to lose my husband too.”

Krishna raised an eyebrow, “Don’t you dare blame me for that, Reva. I offered your kingdom back, complete with the city that I built, the very moment that I found you two! It was your father who refused. Even after that, I offered for you to be our new queen, and that offer, sister, you refused. You will not play the victim with me, not now.” Krishna replied sharply as he moved closer to look her in the eye, “And as for your husband, you will end up losing him anyway, if this keeps up for long.”

“I’m sorry.” Revati whispered.

“No, you’re not.” Krishna smiled starchily.

“No, I’m not.” Revati smiled, “But believe me, on this issue, I tried my best.” Her voice shook slightly as she continued, “If alcohol makes him forget about the cruel hand that destiny has dealt him, why not let him have that? Krishna, it would take great cruelty to pull him back to reality, and I will no longer be this butcher of his dreams. I do not like seeing him like this any more than you do, but I am making the best of what I have.”

Krishna had barely opened his mouth to reply, when they both turned to see Balarama stumble into the room.

Krishna forced himself to smile as brightly as he could at his brother.

Ignoring him, Balarama went up to Revati, embracing her, his eyes swimming in love. In spite of his initial annoyance, Krishna smiled fondly to himself as he watched Balarama raise himself on his tiptoes to land a kiss on his wife’s cheek.

He kissed her again, as she handed him a glass of wine with a charming smile, “Kadambari, your favourite.”

“That’s my love,” Rama cooed back.

Only after what it seemed to Krishna like an eternity did Balarama notice him standing beside them, grinning awkwardly.

“What’s he doing here?” Balarama slurred to Revati.

“Nothing important,” Revati smiled as she reached out and pinched Krishna’s cheek, “Just paying a visit to his older brother, that’s all.”

“I’m not a child, Reva.” Krishna complained as he swatted her hand away, albeit with an indulgent smile.

“Sure, you aren’t!” Revati giggled, “Drink up, little one.” She laughed, handing Krishna another glass of wine, as she glided out of the room leaving the brothers alone.

“Cheers,” Balarama grinned, as he clinked his glass against Krishna’s.

Krishna laughed incredulously as he stared at his brother for a second, before downing the liquor himself.

“God, has it been long!” Krishna exclaimed, as he felt the bitter liquid make its way down his throat. They both laughed heartily, as Balarama patted his brother on the back.

Krishna shook his head, “You know, what I came to talk to you about. I am thinking of trying something. New year, new me.”

Balarama stroked his chin, “Is it new year already? Last I checked it was still winter.”

“No, it’s just a saying.” Krishna laughed, “But I am planning to change myself. Why should you have all the fun? I am sick of being the spoilsport. This is me waving the white flag. From now on, get this! I will do…whatever I want.” He finished with a flourish in Balarama’s face.

“You got drunk off of one glass?” Balarama asked hesitantly.

“I am not drunk, Rama!” Krishna exclaimed, “This is actually me that’s talking!”

“Ah, and when did you reach this conclusion?”

“Just now!” Krishna lied, “Reva truly inspired me with her words just now.” Krishna nodded seriously.

Balarama snorted, “Right! So, when does this new Krishna reveal himself to us mere mortals?”

“Right now! Come on, I’ve been putting off something important for far too long and I need your help.”

“What, now?” Balarama questioned exasperatedly as Krishna started to push him towards the front door.

“Where are we going?” He asked again.

“Seriously Dau, stop resisting now. I don’t care how strong you are, I am still capable of throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you there myself.” Krishna’s eye twinkled as he continued walking.

Balarama laughed at his brother, “That’s hardly necessary Kanha, but where?”

---

“Here, do you remember him?” Krishna enthusiastically threw the tall gates to his study open, as Balarama hung slightly back, peering over his brother’s shoulder.

“I will try to recollect, Kanha, as soon as you move off of the tip of my nose, you giant tree! Now scoot!” Balarama complained, as he jokingly pushed his brother out of the way.

Balarama walked into the room to find a tailor. He immediately smiled widely as he pulled the man into an embrace, “You fitted our first royal clothes for us, right? Right after this one killed that washerman back in Mathura?”

The tailor nodded devotedly, “You both have grown so big since I last saw you. I see you still have that peacock feather on your head! I never understood that. And you, impeccable fashion sense. Like always!”

“See, that’s why I dragged him out here!” Krishna nodded conspiratorially at the tailor.

“What are you up to, Krishna?” Balarama asked sceptically.

“I finally decided to send that letter to Auntie Kunti, inviting her to the spring festival! Along with that, I want to send some unique gifts. They should know that we are serious about having her here! Given he is the best tailor that I know, and you have the best taste, who better to help me with this, right?!” Krishna exclaimed as he put his arms around both his brother and the tailor, “I am going for a grand yet grounded approach, you follow?”

Balarama grinned as he ran his hand through the variety of colours and fabrics that were strewn atop Krishna’s desk, “You mean our cousins that you’ve been stalking for the past one year?”

“Ten months, and it’s not stalking.”

“Ah, I get it. So, a hundred spies and Uncle Akroora have been circling them unceasingly just to find out which colour of silk looks the best on them? Kanha, you do realize that all of your expense reports usually pass through my desk?”

“To be fair, I didn’t think you read those,” Krishna sucked air through his teeth.

Balarama snorted again as Krishna gave him a charming look, “Kanha, I swear I’ll smack you. But seriously, what are you after?”

“Nothing!” Krishna said defensively, “I was just curious. Also, I did find out their favourite colours. They’re gold, fuchsia, white, purple and teal. I just need you to finalize the designs on all of the uttariyas and then Uncle Tailor can get started, and then-”

Balarama placed a hand on Krishna’s shoulder to stop his monologue, “But are you sure they are worth the effort?”

Krishna nodded, “They’re the only cousins we haven’t met in person yet! Not a single reunion have they attended, nor any festivals or marriages or funerals. I just want to see what their problem is! And don’t forget we promised Father that we’d bring Auntie Kunti home!”

Balarama laughed, “First, Krishna, you promised, not we. Second, this Kaurava business is much more complicated than you know! It will be in our best interest not to get involved with them at all if we can help it.”

Krishna sat down across from his brother, “I don’t see it like that, Rama. They are being kept from their destiny and birthright by a bitter, blind, old man. We owe it to our aunt to help them out.”

Balarama shook his head, “That is their problem to figure out! Also, the birthright? It is not so black-and-white. There are several legal nuances to be considered.”

“It sure was pretty black-and-white when it was our birthright that was on the line Dau!” Krishna looked up with a rueful smile, “I don’t remember you complaining that our situation with Kamsa was nuanced.”

Balarama smashed his fist down on the table, “It was different!” He did not enjoy remembering the days following the death of their uncle.

Krishna continued coolly, “Really? How?”

“It just was! For starters our father was rotting in a freaking prison!” Balarama took a deep breath to calm himself, “Listen, I only want what’s best for you, and the best for you right now is to leave this alone, is that understood?”

“Careful Rama,” Krishna smirked quietly, “You are beginning to sound quite like our dear cousin Shishupala there.”

Balarama sighed, “Krishna, I do not wish to fight with you. We’re both grown-ups here. If you want to do this, go ahead. All I would say is, leave me out of this.”

“Gladly!” Krishna smarted as he pointed at the now confounded tailor shivering with his back to the wall, “As soon as you confirm the designs.”

“Fine,” Balarama huffed, “What do you have on them?” He never could deny his little brother. Not all the way.

Krishna smiled as he immediately retrieved a fat stack of papers and thumped it down in front of his brother.

Balarama sighed loudly as he started flicking through the pages, “For the record Kanha, I still think this is creepy.”

“You’re creepy!” Krishna retorted, pouting, making Balarama laugh out loud.

He sniggered on as he began to compare patterns laid out on the desk. Rama’s anger always melted as fast as it came upon, “Seriously? They call you the master of words and the beloved of Saraswati, and that’s the best you could come up with?”

#krishna #hindu mythology #writing #original writing #balarama #mahabharata #the lost flute #desi tumblr #fanfic

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