The chariot rumbled through the bustling streets of Hastinapur, its wheels kicking up light dust as Bahubali and Karna, dressed in regal yet understated attire, sat within, their conversation a blend of camaraderie and strategy. A trusted rider from Magadha guided the horses toward the grand palace gates, the spires of the Kuru stronghold looming ahead. Bahubali leaned back in his seat, while Karna spoke with a thoughtful tone, his eyes scanning the familiar city.
"Bahu, it's strange to return to Hastinapur after all these years, not as boys dreaming by the Ganga, but as Maharaj of Magadha and senapati," Karna said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "The streets are the same, yet they feel different now. Do you think the Kurus invited us merely for the Kalapradarshan, or is there more at play? Hastinapur's court is known for its intrigues, and I wonder what they make of Magadha's rise."
Bahubali's gaze was steady, a faint smile playing on his lips, reflecting the wisdom of Mahadev's teachings. "Karna, you're right to sense layers beneath this invitation. The Kalapradarshan is a showcase of Kuru pride, but it's also a chance for Dhritarashtra to gauge us, Magadha's strength, our intentions, and perhaps our alliances. We've transformed a kingdom once feared into one admired, and that unsettles kings across Aryavrat. Yet, we come as guests, not conquerors. Let's observe the princes, strengthen trade ties, and show Hastinapur that Magadha stands for dharma, not ambition. Besides, it warms my heart to be home, even for a few days."
Karna nodded, his expression resolute. "Well said, Bahu. We'll tread carefully, uphold our principles, and let our actions speak. I'm curious to see these Kuru princes—Pandavas and Kauravas alike. Their rivalry is the talk of every court. And who knows? Perhaps we'll inspire them with Magadha's vision, as you always do."
Bahubali chuckled, clapping Karna's shoulder. "That's the spirit, my friend. Let's be the light which shows the path, even amidst Hastinapur's shadows."
As the chariot approached the palace gates, a grand sight greeted them. Maharaj Dhritarashtra stood at the forefront, his regal bearing tempered by his blindness, supported by his wife, Mata Gandhari, whose blindfold symbolized her devotion. Beside them were Mata Kunti, her serene face radiating maternal grace, Mahamahim Bhishma, the venerable patriarch of the Kurus, Kula Guru Kripacharya, his scholarly presence commanding respect, and Mahamantri Vidura, whose wisdom was Hastinapur's bedrock. The Kuru royals awaited their guests with formal dignity, their attendants holding ceremonial umbrellas and banners.
The chariot halted, and Bahubali and Karna stepped down, their movements graceful yet grounded. Dhritarashtra's voice boomed with warmth, though laced with diplomatic caution. "Magadha Naresh! Hastinapur welcomes you with open hearts to our humble court. Your fame precedes you—the slayer of Jarasandha and the architect of Magadha's golden age. It is an honor to host such illustrious guests for the Kalapradarshan of our princes."
Bahubali and Karna bowed, offering pranam in return, their voices harmonious. "Pranam, Maharaj Dhritarashtra," Bahubali said, his tone respectful yet confident. "It is we who are honored to be welcomed by the great Kuru dynasty. May our visit strengthen the bonds between Magadha and Hastinapur."
Karna added, "Pranam, Maharaj. Your invitation is a gesture of goodwill we cherish. We look forward to witnessing the prowess of the Kuru princes and sharing in Hastinapur's pride."
Turning to the others, Bahubali offered pranipat to each in turn. "Pranipat, Mata Gandhari, Mata Kunti, Mahamahim Bhishma, Kula Guru Kripacharya, Mahamantri Vidura, Gandhar Naresh Shakuni" they said, their respect evident. Then, in a gesture that surprised the court, Bahubali approached Mata Gandhari and bent to touch her feet, his head bowed in reverence. A servant beside her whispered, "Mata, it is Maharaj Bahubali who seeks your blessings."
Gandhari, startled, placed a gentle hand on his head, her voice filled with astonishment. "Magadha Naresh, what are you doing? You are a king, a conqueror of tyrants! Rise, noble Bahubali, and take your place as our honored guest."
Bahubali rose, his smile radiant, his voice imbued with devotion. "Mata Gandhari, what is a king before a devotee of Mahadev? Your sacrifice, your faith, make you greater than any throne. I seek only your blessings, as a son would from a mother, to guide me on the path of dharma. Please, bless me, Mata."
Gandhari's smile softened, her hand lingering on his head, moved by his humility. "Ayushman bhava, putr. May you live long, ever true to dharma, and may Mahadev and Mata Parvati guide your every step. Your heart is rare, Bahubali, and Hastinapur is blessed by your presence."
The Kuru royals, witnessing this exchange, stood in stunned silence, their shock palpable yet unspoken. A king touching a queen's feet was unprecedented, yet Bahubali's sincerity quelled any objection. Dhritarashtra, recovering, gestured warmly. "Come, Maharaj Bahubali, let us proceed inside. The palace awaits, and we have much to share in the days ahead."
The entourage entered the palace, its halls adorned with intricate carvings and golden lamps. Bahubali and Karna were escorted to opulent guest chambers, but before parting, Bahubali turned to Dhritarashtra, his tone diplomatic yet purposeful. "Maharaj Dhritarashtra, with your permission, I'd request a meeting after the Kalapradarshan to discuss trade between Magadha and Hastinapur. Our kingdoms could prosper through shared commerce, and I believe such ties would strengthen Aryavrat's unity."
Dhritarashtra nodded, his voice gracious. "A wise proposal, Maharaj Bahubali. We shall convene a meeting post-Kalapradarshan to explore this alliance. For now, rest and prepare to enjoy our princes' display tomorrow."
Bahubali and Karna then retired to their chambers, their minds already turning to the event ahead.
The next morning, Bahubali and Karna, clad in Magadha's regal silks, took their places on the elevated podium overlooking the Kalapradarshan arena, a vast field ringed with banners and filled with spectators. The Kuru royals joined them—Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, Kunti, Bhishma, Kripacharya, Vidura, and Shakuni—each offering their greetings, a gesture of mutual respect.
Dhritarashtra smiled, his voice proud. "Maharaj Bahubali our princes, trained by Guru Drona, will display their mastery today. May this event deepen our kingdoms' friendship."
As the podium filled with anticipation, Bahubali and Karna exchanged a glance, ready to observe the Kuru princes while subtly advancing Magadha's vision. The Kalapradarshan promised not just a display of martial prowess but a stage for diplomacy, where their presence as suta-born champions of dharma could inspire change in Hastinapur's heart.