In a small hut located in a little distance from Kurushetra, a great tension was brimming. The greatest warriors on earth were holed up in the small hut at the edge of Kurushetra. Bhima was quietly eating his rice with Krishna, their advisor. Next to them, the giant mace that would soon slay more than hundred people in a single day was resting peacefully waiting for the opportunity to attack.
Krishna had no weapons next to him, he simply kept his flute and the conch on the dining table and enjoying the rice. Arjuna was pacing across the room nervous the bow and arrow that infamously had pierced every target his eyes had set out for was resting on the floor, calm and peaceful.
"What are we fighting for? And who are we fighting against?"Arjuna spoke nervously, "Our own Pitahma? our grand-father? Our own teacher, who taught us warfare and our own cousins?"
"Should we be excited, should we be worried, should we be happy?"
Krishna quietly gulped another morsel of his rice. Bhima shrugged, "I don't know about you, but I am fighting Duryodhana and I won't sit quietly till I break his legs as I promised."
Krishna smiled at the hulk of a man and patted on his arm with his clean hands.
"Krishna, say something, is this Dharma that we are fighting our own brothers?"
Krishna washed his hands and walked towards Arjuna, "So far you were talking, Arjuna. I will only speak when you ask me to."
"Then speak, Krishna, for I do not want to win this battle over the bodies of our own teacher, grandfather and our cousins. If this is law, I cannot follow this."
Krishna smiled, "Advise is a dangerous thing to give, unsolicited advise is even more dangerous to provide," Krishna said, "Even God will not tell you what to do, you have to ask the right question to get correct answer, so tell me noble friend, what is your question."
"How do you justify this war, Krishna? How do we raise weapon against our own family?" Arjuna asked.
"Arjuna, remember, you do not raise your weapon against your grandfather. This battle is when a grandfather stands in way of his own grandson
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I don't need weapon, I have a sharp tongue.