Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
A/N: Before anything... Major revisions have been made here so... I ask you not to skip any of it and please tell me if I should improvise a bit more or if this itself is fine :)
                          
Ok so... I will be using Tamil phrases along with the translations cuz... grandmother in the house! Nothing more appropriate than the grandmother scolding in the native tongue, no matter how modern she is, right? (Patti/Paati/Paatti is basically grandmother. And Seri is ok)
                          
Tamil
(Translation) (Ik, I used like proper Tamil letters the last time around but... I thought this fit way better so... yeah)
                          
"Hmm... Karti, maybe we should write down all the theories we have and see which would've been more plausible..." Kritika pondered as she struggled with the davani (Kinda like a dupatta) 
                          
"I still personally feel like Duryodhana is a good person if not for Shakuni's influence" Kartik said as he straightened his shirt, the shirt which his mother had given to him before she'd passed away.
                          
"Aana Kartik, adhu correcta irukkalam, appo kuda there's a chance that Dury might plot for the Pandava's death. He lusted for the throne!" Kritika said. "Probably, Patti, your opinion please!" he asked. (But  Kartik, it may be right, even then there's a chance that Dury might plot for the Pandava's death)
                          
"Kartikeya! Ippo adhukella neram illa! And Kritika, andha daavaniya ozhunga podu!" an old lady scolded as she approached Kritika. (Kartikeya! There is no time for that now! And Kritika, wear that half saree properly!)
                          
"But Paatti! This is the new trend!" Kritika said with a pout but allowed her grandmother to do whatever she saw fit. "Trend-o illayo, ennakku theriyadhu. Innaiku Shivaratri. Adhuketha maadri dress pannanum" she scolded. (Trend or not, I don't care. Today is Shivaratri. Dress according to the occassion)
                          
"Seri Paatti, it's getting late. Are you coming with us or not?" Kartik asked. "Naa varala. Inga neriya vela irukku. I will pray from home itself" she said as she gave them a two hundred. (I'm not coming. I have lots of work to do) 
                          
"Undhiyala 100 pottu meedhiku enna venumo vaangiko" she said. (Put a 100 in the hundi and buy something with the rest)
                          
"Seri Paatti, see you tomorrow! Karti! Come quickly!" Kritika called out. "I'm coming Kritu, I'm coming. I can't exactly run right now you know?" Kartik complained. Kritika just rolled her eyes but waited for him to catch up.
                          
"You know... I wish we could take that bike" he said wistfully as he brushed the bike parked in front of their house, one of the only surviving items that belonged to his family... something he took care more than his own life like it was an artefact, which it was for him.
                          
Kartikeya and Kritika, or as they like to call themselves, Karti and Kriti were cousins and the only surviving members of their family living with their grandmother for the time being. Their fates had been bad, with Kritika's parents passing away in the 2015 floods and Kartik's parents and Aman passing away in a fire accident a year later.
                          
And since then they'd been living with their grandmother, earning for a living and paying for school. They did do some Co-curricular activities, which they were exceptional at and the money they won at competitions were saved for their future. 
                          
But if there was one thing they enjoyed, it was their story time with their grandmother. The way she would weave stories and narrate the histories and the great epics always enraptured them. Especially when she told them about the Mahabharat.