“Thirty-six years,” Arjuna whispered to the bow. “Thirty-six years since the river of blood.”
“You were Duryodhana’s friend.”
The old woman laughed—a dry, leaf-rattle sound. “Dharma. A pretty word for a sharp stick. Tell me, prince: when you strung the Gandiva, did you ever ask what it wanted?” mahabharata ramesh menon
“Do you know why he cursed you?”