Wordsmith: Woe of Ashwathama

Ashwathama’s tale, a heartache profound,

A sorrowful story, we’ll softly expound.

No need to delve into the depths of his pain,

But we’ll touch on his story, with gentle refrain.

In the dark of Kurukshetra, fierce battles were fought,

Ashwathama, a warrior, with skills finely wrought.

A son of Drona, his path was astray,

Caught in a web of despair that won’t sway.

The night was his canvas, filled with deceit,

A vengeful act, a wound hard to beat.

No mention of agony, we’ll softly tread,

On the woes of Ashwathama, our words will be spread.

His tale reminds us, in life’s bitter strife,

To handle our pain with compassion and life.

To name the hurt without letting it seep,

Into our souls, where dark memories creep.

Let Ashwathama’s woes, a lesson impart,

To tend to our wounds, with love in our heart.

For in the gentle words, we choose to employ,

We find solace, healing, and innermost joy.

— Monidipa Dutta