(A/N):

Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.

Guys I hope you put more comments and power stones... Which will encourage me...

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The grand throne hall had grown completely silent now.

After the blessings of sages, elders, kings, queens, warriors, and honored guests finally concluded, the atmosphere slowly shifted toward the most important moment of the night.

The naming.

At the center of the beautifully decorated chamber, the sandalwood cradle remained surrounded by glowing oil lamps and flower garlands while the gathered guests slowly moved closer instinctively, tightening the circle around the ceremonial space.

Everyone wished to witness the moment properly.

The priest who had completed the sacred pooja earlier slowly stepped forward carrying a golden ceremonial plate.

Upon the plate rested rice grains mixed carefully with turmeric and sandalwood powder, creating a fragrant golden surface traditionally prepared for naming rituals.

The soft scent spread gently through the hall.

Beside the priest stood attendants carrying sacred lamps while the musicians slowly lowered their instruments, allowing only the quiet sounds of temple bells and crackling oil flames to remain.

Then—Devara stepped forward.

And beside him walked Gandhari.

The sight of them standing together before the gathered kingdoms beneath the golden light of the throne hall carried a strangely regal warmth.

Not merely king and queen.

But protectors of a growing family and kingdom.

Very carefully, Devara leaned down and lifted the child from the sandalwood cradle once more.

The infant stirred slightly before settling comfortably in his arms again.

Around them, the guests leaned closer silently.

Even Shakuni remained unusually quiet now.

"...."

Because everyone understood the sacredness of this tradition.

A child’s name was not merely a title.

It carried blessing. Hope. Destiny of its own future.

And slowly, Devara lowered his face slightly closer toward the child’s ear.

For the briefest moment—His thoughts drifted inward again.

Toward memories no one else in that chamber could ever understand. Toward another timeline.

Another destiny.

Toward the child who was never born into this world.

Krishna.

Even though this infant was not Vishnu’s avatar...

Even though fate had changed paths entirely...

Devara still felt that somewhere, somehow, the child deserved to carry a fragment of that divine light.

Not as replacement. But as blessing.

And so softly—In a voice heard only by the child resting in his arms—Devara whispered.

"Khanna."

The name left his lips gently.

Warmly.

Like a blessing rather than a declaration.

For a second, the hall remained completely silent.

"...."

"...."

"...."

Then Devara straightened slowly while holding the child carefully before the gathered assembly.

His voice echoed proudly through the throne chamber.

"From this day onward ...this child shall be known as Khanna."

The moment the name was spoken publicly—The priests struck the ceremonial bells loudly.

-GONG!

Conches roared across the chamber.

Flower petals rained from the balconies above.

And the gathered guests erupted into applause, blessings, cheers, and joyous voices.

"Blessings upon Khanna!"

"May he live long!"

"Hara Hara Mahadev!"1

The musicians immediately began playing celebratory instruments while attendants showered the ceremonial area with flowers.

Meanwhile Devaki visibly wiped tears from her eyes.

Not tears of sorrow. But relief. Warmth. Peace.

Beside her, Vasudeva folded his hands deeply toward Devara with heartfelt gratitude.

Because the name did not feel randomly chosen.

It felt meaningful.

Sacred.

And as the celebration erupted around them beneath the glowing lights of Trivenivrata’s throne hall—

Little Khanna simply blinked sleepily in Devara’s arms...

-Blink!

"...."

Completely unaware that his name had just been welcomed into the world before kings, sages, and destiny itself.

The joyous atmosphere inside the throne hall of Trivenivrata only grew warmer after the name had finally been announced.

"Khanna..."

The name continued echoing softly through the chamber as nobles, sages, queens, and warriors repeated it among themselves with approving smiles.

Meanwhile the little child rested calmly within Devara’s arms, entirely unaware that he had just become the center of one of the grandest naming ceremonies many present had ever witnessed.

The priest stepped forward once more carrying the golden ceremonial plate filled with rice grains mixed carefully with turmeric and sandalwood.

"...."

The surface looked smooth and fragrant beneath the warm lamp light.

Devara shifted Khanna gently in his arms before carefully taking the infant’s tiny hand into his own.

The sight itself made several elders smile immediately.

His fingers were so small they barely curled properly around Devara’s thumb.

Very slowly, Devara guided the child’s hand downward toward the rice grains.

Then carefully—With patience and warmth—He began tracing the name.

’Khanna.’

The rice shifted softly beneath the child’s fingers while the letters formed slowly across the golden grains.

The gathered guests immediately began clapping warmly seeing the ritual completed.

Several women showered flower petals once more while the musicians played celebratory notes softly in the background.

Nearby, Gandhari watched with visible happiness shining in her eyes.

"...."

Even Bhishma’s stern face carried a faint smile watching the scene unfold.

Soon afterward, the priest brought forward another ceremonial bowl.

Inside it was blessed honey mixed lightly with sacred water.

The priest bowed respectfully before offering it toward Devara.

According to tradition, the child would taste sweetness first after receiving his name.

A blessing for a sweet and prosperous life ahead.

Devara dipped his finger gently into the honey mixture before lightly touching it against Khanna’s lips.

For a brief second the child blinked in confusion.

-Blink!

"...."

Then instinctively—He licked the sweetness.

The reaction instantly melted the entire hall.

Warm laughter spread across the gathering.

"Awww..."

Even several hardened warriors nearby visibly softened at the tiny expression on the infant’s face as he tasted the honey.

Meanwhile Shakuni dramatically pointed toward the child.

"Look at that. He has already accepted sweets faster than politics."

That instantly earned him another glare from his mother.

But this time even she failed to suppress her smile.

The priest then raised his hands formally.

"The naming ceremony stands completed."

Conches echoed loudly once more.

Temple bells rang.

And the musicians immediately burst into full celebratory rhythm across the throne hall.

At last, Devara carefully turned toward Devaki.

With great care, he placed little Khanna back into her arms.

Devaki received her son with visible emotion shining across her face.

The child settled comfortably against her almost instantly while she looked down at him with overwhelming tenderness.

Beside her, Vasudeva quietly folded his hands toward Devara once more in gratitude.

No words were truly needed anymore.

The gesture itself carried enough meaning.

Meanwhile throughout the throne hall, people had already begun affectionately calling the child by his new name.

"Khanna..."

"Little Khanna..."

"Blessings upon Khanna..." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

The repeated calls immediately caught the infant’s attention.

"...."

Still resting in his mother’s arms, the little boy blinked curiously while turning his head slightly here and there hearing the same sound repeated from every direction.

The entire hall instantly found the reaction adorable.

"He’s searching for his own name!"

One elderly noble laughed warmly.

Even the sages nearby smiled.

"...."

"...."

"...."

And amidst the glowing lamps, ringing bells, drifting flower petals, and joyful laughter of gathered kingdoms—

Little Khanna continued looking around curiously at the world calling him for the very first time.

The grand celebration slowly began settling down as the night deepened over Trivenivrata.

The throne hall that had earlier echoed with music, blessings, laughter, and celebration now gradually softened into quieter conversations and tired smiles.

One by one, the honored guests, sages, kings, queens, and nobles began leaving toward their assigned guest chambers within the royal palace.

Servants moved through the hall collecting ceremonial trays and extinguishing some of the oil lamps while musicians slowly lowered their instruments after hours of performance.

Yet even as the gathering dispersed—The warmth of the naming ceremony still lingered heavily in the air.

Meanwhile, after bidding farewell respectfully to several departing elders,

Devara finally made his way toward the section where the royal family of Hastinapur still remained gathered.

He had still not met them yet.

"...."

Beside him walked Gandhari with a gentle smile lingering on her face after the successful celebration.

As Devara approached, his gaze naturally moved toward the infant resting in Madri’s arms.

Little Suryodana.

The child slept peacefully, completely unaware of the dark prophecies already attached to his birth.

Which would one day make him do things which will change his name to Duryodhana

For a brief moment, Devara quietly studied him.

Not with fear. Not with hatred.

But with thoughtful silence.

"...."

Because no matter what destiny claimed—At this moment, Suryodana was only a child.

An innocent one. Who had not committed a single crime yet.

Then Gandhari stepped forward naturally with affection shining in her eyes.

"May I?"

She asked softly.

Madri immediately smiled and carefully handed the infant over.

The moment Suryodana settled into Gandhari’s arms, she instantly began playing with him gently, speaking softly to the child while adjusting the small blanket around him.

The baby responded with tiny movements and sleepy sounds that immediately melted both women’s expressions.

Soon Gandhari and Madri slowly walked a little distance away together, speaking quietly while focusing entirely on the infant.

The sight left behind a calmer, more private atmosphere between the remaining men.

Dhritarashtra looked toward Devara silently for several moments.

His expression carried unusual seriousness now.

Finally he spoke.

"Devara..."

His voice was quieter than before.

"There is something I wish to discuss with you."

Devara immediately noticed the weight in his tone.

Dhritarashtra continued slowly.

"I seek your advice."

That alone made Devara slightly pause internally.

Because technically—Dhritarashtra was the elder between them.

A prince of Hastinapur.

A man older and politically more senior.

Yet Dhritarashtra looked at him not with wounded pride...

But genuine trust.

Then quietly, almost heavily, he added.

"You showed me the path once before."

Instinctively, Dhritarashtra’s fingers touched near his eyes for a brief moment.

The eyes Devara had helped him regain through Mahadev’s blessing.

"Because of you... I can see my children."

The emotion beneath those words remained impossible to ignore.

"So I believe... you may know a way forward now as well."

Before Devara could reply, another figure approached nearby.

Bhishma.

The grand elder had originally approached simply to greet Dhritarashtra before retiring for the night.

"...."

But the moment Bhishma saw the serious expression on Dhritarashtra’s face—

His own demeanor shifted immediately.

Nearby, Mahamantri Vidura too noticed the atmosphere and quietly approached without interruption.

For a brief moment, the four men stood silently amidst the slowly emptying throne hall while distant servants continued clearing the celebration decorations.

Then Bhishma spoke calmly.

"This discussion is not meant for open halls."

Vidura nodded immediately in agreement.

-Nod!

Devara himself already understood what this likely concerned.

The prophecy.

Suryodana.

The astrologers.

The fear surrounding Hastinapur’s future.

Without wasting further words, the four quietly began leaving the throne chamber together.

Their footsteps echoed softly through the quieter palace corridors now lit mainly by torchlight and moonlight filtering through carved stone windows.

Behind them, Gandhari and Madri remained speaking gently while little Suryodana rested peacefully in Gandhari’s arms.

Completely unaware—That elsewhere within the palace tonight...

Men were already discussing the fate tied to his future.

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(Author note:)

I hope you guys give me your opinion and idea’s.

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Don’t forget to review guys...

Guys I have a new fic which named: Karuppan: King of Openings.