Curate, connect, and discover
The streets of Dwarka were alive with color. At the heart of it all was a chase: a glorious, chaotic chase that had the entire city stopping to watch.
Pride of the Kurus, the mighty Arjuna ran.
He darted through the palace courtyard, his once-pristine white garments a casualty of the festival’s wrath.
Arjuna, draped in his usual pristine white, had been an easy target from the start. It had taken only moments for the Yadavas- led by none other than Krishna himself- to turn him into a masterpiece of colors. His, once immaculate angavastram now bore splashes of deep crimson, streaks of gold, and bursts of bright blue and green. A particularly enthusiastic handful of pink dust had settled in his curls, softening the sharp angles of his face, giving him a boyish charm that was almost at odds with his warrior’s presence.
Yet, Arjuna still looked striking, perhaps even more so now, with his usual regal bearing exchanged for the infectious laughter that lit up his face.
Behind him, Krishna pursued, a wicked grin stretching across his already color-streaked face, his hands overflowing with more vibrant powder. The midnight glowing skin of his was almost indistinguishable beneath layers of color, yet it failed in hiding that other worldly beauty.
His eyes gleamed with unbridled mischief, and his hands were filled with yet more powder- deep blue in one, a bright golden hue in the other. He moved effortlessly, leaping over fallen water buckets, sidestepping laughing Yadavas, his grin widening as he closed in on his prey.
"Parth!" Krishna called, laughter spilling from his lips. "You cannot outrun me forever!"
"You underestimate a desperate man!" Arjuna shot back, weaving through a group of revelers. "I have survived wars! I can survive this!"
The gathered Yadavas roared with laughter, cheering for both the hunter and the hunted. Some had even started taking bets, while others, like Satyaki and Pradyumna, shouted helpful (or not-so-helpful) advice.
"Arjuna, surrender with dignity!" Satyaki called out, shaking his head in mock pity.
"Or keep running! I have money on you lasting a few more minutes!" Pradyumna added.
"Parth!" Krishna called, laughing as he almost tripped over a toppled pot of water. "Why do you flee? Come, accept your fate!"
"You are my fate!" Arjuna shot back, twisting around a pillar to dodge Krishna’s reach. "BUT today you are my doom!"
The gathered Yadavas: Satyaki, Pradyumna specifically howled with laughter.
Arjuna, nimble as ever, made a sharp turn, only to skid to a stop when he found himself cornered. The steps to the temple loomed ahead, and blocking his escape was none other than Subhadra, arms crossed, grinning as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. Her golden complexion glowed more with the Kumkum smear on her cheeks.
"Swami...." she called sweetly. "Going somewhere?"
"Yes…" Arjuna said, eyes darting between her and the approaching storm that was Krishna. "Away!"
"Not today," Subhadra said, stepping aside just enough to leave him no option but surrender.
Before Arjuna could react, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind.
"Got you!" Krishna whispered, laughter laced in his voice.
Arjuna let out a half-laugh, half-yelp as he felt himself yanked backward against Krishna’s chest, trapped. He tried to twist free, but Krishna’s hold was firm, his hands pressing against Arjuna’s waist in a way that sent a burst of color from both of their stained garments into the air.
"No, no—Krishna, wait—!"
But Krishna had no mercy.
He smeared the powder directly into Arjuna’s cheeks, his fingers pressing streaks of blue and gold into his skin. Then, with gleeful abandon, he ran his hands through Arjuna’s already ruined curls, making sure no part of his dear Parth was left untouched by color.
The Yadavas erupted into laughter and cheered as Arjuna squirmed in protest, sputtering through the onslaught.
"M-Madhav- you absolute menace!" Arjuna managed between gasps of laughter.
By the time Krishna was done, Arjuna was unrecognizable, his entire being transformed into a walking celebration of color.
The watching onlookers erupted into cheers, some pounding their fists on the ground in mirth. Even Balarama, who had initially stayed dignified, let out a hearty chuckle.
Arjuna, wiping his face and spitting out some of the powder that had managed to get into his mouth, glared at Krishna. "You planned this."
Krishna grinned, leaning lazily against a pillar. "Oh, Parth, I merely ensured you enjoyed the festival to its fullest."
"You attacked me!"
"I included you."
Arjuna groaned, running a hand through his thoroughly ruined hair, which only resulted in more color streaking down his face. But despite his grumbling, there was laughter in his eyes, and the boyish smile that broke across his lips only made him look even more endearing.
He turned to Subhadra, who was doubled over laughing, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes.
"You enjoyed that far too much," Arjuna accused, looking at her with his loving smile.
Subhadra beamed at him, utterly unapologetic. "Watching my husband be defeated by my brother? Arya, How could I not!"
Krishna clapped a hand on Arjuna’s shoulder, his own fingers leaving fresh streaks of orange behind. "Come, Parth. We are one color now. Let’s celebrate properly."
And with that, he dragged Arjuna back into the revelry, as Dwarka cheered for their favorite mischief-makers.