there will be prosperity, victory, growth, and righteousness — this is my conviction.
Commentary:
The Bhagavad Gita ends with a union: Krishna and Arjuna — the wisdom and the action, the inner guide and the outer doer. Neither is complete without the other. Knowledge without action remains unexpressed. Action without wisdom loses its way.
Earlier, the bow had slipped from Arjun’s hand. Now he is namedDhanurdharah— the one who holds the bow again.
Krishna, theYogeshwar, stands with Arjun on the battlefield after having led him back to life.
“Yatra…” —wherever this union exists.
Not in one place, not in one moment, but wherever the inner clarity of Krishna meets the readiness to act of Arjun, there will arise shri (wholeness), vijay (victory), bhuti (flourishing), and dhruva niti (steady righteousness).
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Samar turned the final page that he hadn’t turned the last time, and startled.
At the lowest corner of the last page was a note, written in a handwriting he could recognise in his sleep.
The battlefield won’t vanish after this, but the warrior will be stabilised.
A knock startled him. Samar glanced up from Atharva’s note and stared at the dark outside his window. The noises outside his office room were muffled, the party working in overdrive with the election only a month away. He had to finish his hour-long break and get back to his emails.
“Sir?”
“Come in, Gauri.” Samar closed the book and stood to his feet.
“Sir, Amaal madam is calling from Srinagar, says it’s urgent.”
He frowned, picking up his mobile — “She hasn’t called…” he stilled. Eight missed calls. His mobile was on silent and turned over. Samar picked up the receiver on his desk and found her breathing hard.
“Amaal?” He nodded at Gauri and she left his office, closing the door. “I’m sorry my mobile was turned over and silent…”
“Samar…” she was whimpering.
“What happened? Why are you crying?”
“I’m n…” she took a deep breath. “Dad had a stroke, I just got Mom’s call, I am leaving for London and…” she broke into another whimper.
“Ok, calm down. Did you get your ticket?”
“Looking…” she thumped on something. “Fuck, why wouldn’t this page load! The WiFi here is blocking all major sites. Can you book from there?”
“I will take care of it. You go home and pack your bag, I will call you in fifteen minutes. Ok?”
“Fifteen minutes?”
“Fifteen minutes. I promise.”
“I am leaving the Secretariat trusting you, if you can’t book…”
“Amaal.” He commanded.
She stopped.
“I will take care of everything. You go and pack your bag. Passport, visa, ID proof and your Press Secretary card. Hmm?”
“Hmm.” She ended the call.
