The sun rose crimson over the city of Hastinapur, its rays spilling like molten gold across the palace spires. Bhishma stood upon the royal balcony, his armor gleaming in the dawn light, his gaze fixed upon the horizon.
Peace had returned to the Kuru kingdom, but Bhishma knew — peace was a fragile thing, as fleeting as morning mist.
His duty was eternal; his vow, unbroken.
And now, a new task awaited him.
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The Swayamvara of Kashi
In the neighboring kingdom of Kashi, King Kashya had announced a swayamvara — a grand ceremony where his three daughters would choose their husbands from among the princes of Bharat.
The princesses were famed across the land for their beauty and virtue:
Amba, the eldest, proud and strong-willed.
Ambika, serene and graceful.
Ambalika, gentle as moonlight.
Invitations were sent to all noble houses — all but Hastinapur.
The king of Kashi, resentful of Bhishma's dominance, had dared to exclude the Kurus from his court.
When Bhishma learned of this insult, his eyes darkened — not with anger, but with the cold resolve of duty.
> "The throne of Hastinapur will not be shamed," he said.
"If the king denies us honor, I shall take it."
He mounted his chariot, his bow shining like lightning, and rode forth to Kashi. The sound of his wheels echoed across the plains like thunder.
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The Challenge of Bhishma
The swayamvara hall glittered with jewels and music. Princes from every kingdom sat in anticipation, each hoping to win the hands of Kashi's daughters.
Suddenly, the earth trembled.
The music stilled.
Through the great doors entered Bhishma, his presence commanding silence.
His voice rang out clear as a battle horn:
> "I am Bhishma of the Kuru house, guardian of Hastinapur. I come not for myself, but for my brother, King Vichitravirya. The princesses of Kashi shall be his queens!"
Before any could react, Bhishma drew his bow, scattering the rival princes like leaves in a storm. None dared face him — for who could stand against the man blessed by gods, cursed by destiny?
In a single sweeping motion, he lifted the three princesses into his chariot and rode away, his chariot thundering toward Hastinapur.
Behind him, the princes shouted in rage, but none pursued. They knew it would mean certain death.
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The Plea of Amba
Upon reaching Hastinapur, Bhishma presented the princesses before Queen Satyavati.
> "Mother," he said with deep respect, "I bring brides for our king, Vichitravirya."
Preparations for the royal marriage began immediately. But before the ceremony, the eldest princess, Amba, stepped forward. Her face was pale, her eyes burning with suppressed fury.
> "O Bhishma," she said, "I cannot be wed to your brother. Before the swayamvara, I had already chosen my heart — Prince Shalva, whom I love, and who loves me. When you took me by force, you took not a prize, but a woman already promised."
For a moment, Bhishma stood silent.
His heart, long hardened by vows, felt the sting of her words.
> "Then you shall have your freedom," he said gravely. "Go to Shalva and wed him. The house of Kuru will not bind a heart unwilling."
Amba bowed and departed, her eyes filled with gratitude — but fate, as ever, had other designs.
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The Rejection
When Amba reached Shalva's kingdom, the prince turned his face away.
> "You were carried off by Bhishma before all the world," he said bitterly. "Though I love you still, your honor now bears his mark. I cannot take you as my wife."
The words struck her like a blade.
Her love, her pride, her very life crumbled in that instant.
> "Then I am neither wife nor maiden," she cried, "neither princess nor queen — cursed by men, betrayed by gods!"
She left his court in silence, her heart filled not with sorrow, but with a growing fire — a thirst for vengeance.
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The Curse of Amba
Amba returned to Hastinapur, her eyes blazing.
> "Bhishma!" she cried. "You, who call yourself the protector of dharma — you have destroyed my life! You took me from my home, denied me love, and now I am nothing! Give me justice!"
Bhishma's face remained calm, though pain flickered in his eyes.
> "I cannot marry you, for my vow forbids it. Nor can I undo what has been done. If justice lies beyond my reach, seek it from the gods themselves."
Amba's laughter rang through the hall — bitter and broken.
> "Then hear me, Bhishma! I shall not rest until your blood touches the earth. You shall die by a woman's hand!"
She left Hastinapur that day, and none saw her again for many years. But her curse lingered — a shadow that would one day return, bringing fire and death to the Kuru line.
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The Marriage of Ambika and Ambalika
The remaining princesses, Ambika and Ambalika, were married to King Vichitravirya in a ceremony of great splendor.
For a time, happiness returned to the palace. The young king ruled gently, guided by Bhishma's wisdom and Satyavati's counsel.
But destiny — that tireless sculptor — was not yet done shaping their fates.
Vichitravirya, still in his youth, was struck by a wasting illness and died childless.
The joyous sounds of marriage turned to mourning once more.
The great Kuru dynasty stood on the edge of extinction.
And Bhishma, bound by his vow, could only stand and watch — the guardian who could save his kingdom in battle, but not from the quiet cruelty of fate.
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Far beyond Hastinapur, in the silent forests, Amba still wandered — her heart consumed by vengeance, her mind whispering one name again and again:
> Bhishma.
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