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Third POV
In Kampilya
Shikhandini felt her blood chilling as she saw the rishis being tortured to work. She had been watching her father commit sins and Adharma as he was blinded in his anger, revenge and hatred. It was not nice at all.
"Pani ... Pani!" (Water ... Water.) A pandit, who moments ago had been pulling a heavy load, gasps as he falls down. Shikhandini looked around worried. Seeing a pot of water, she rushes to it and brings the pot to the Rishi.
And pours some water in his cupped hands. She continued to pour the water as he drank. She could not let the man die like this. Above it, the man was a Rishi, it would be a great immorality to do so.
"Shikhandini!" Her father's voice reverted in the room. "Unhe pani deni ki anumati tumko kisne di?" (Who gave you the permission to give them water?)
"Agar unhe abhi pani nahi dungi main, toh yeh sab mar jayenge!" (If I do not give them water, now they will die.) Shikhandini says sharply. "Hum par brahmin ko marne ka pap lagega, pita shree!" (We will be sinned to have committed murder of a brahmin, father!)
"Bevakoof! Unke niyati Mein marne hi likha Hai!" (You fool! It's their fate to die.) Her father rants. "Yeh koi brahmin devta nahi Hain. Yeh jhoothe Hain. Yeh sab ke sab brahmin nahi dhokhe baj log Hain." (They are no Brahmin's. They are lier's. All of them, none of them are brahmin they are all decivers.) He pushes Shikhandini away and the pot falls from her hand.
"Agar nadi ka pani pine layak nahi hota Hain toh Hume use sukhne dena chahhiye!" (If the river's water is not the one to drink from, then it should be left to dry.) He drags the pandit up by his hair. "Agar yeh log aapne tap se Mujhe Putra nahi de sakte toh inhe main jivit Kyun chod dun?" (If from their prayers, they cannot give me a son then why should I let them live?)
"Par Maharaj aapke Bhagya main srif putri Hai!" (But King, its in your destiny to only have daughter.) One of the pandit shutters out. "Aapko Putra nahi Ho sakta Hai!" (You cannot have son's!)
