“Something troubles you, O Pandavas, for even conjoined twins do not share one stomach,” said Narada.
“You’re all knowing, Maha Rishi,” said Yudhishthira.
“You’ve to decide among yourselves who and when each of you will spend time with your wife,” said Narada.
The brothers bowed their heads. From the corners of their eyes, they watched one another, but none wished to broach the subject.
“There has been some exchange of words, I see,” said Narada. “And no, it’s best she doesn’t decide, for that will be as good as driving wedges into your brotherhood.”
“Please guide us, Maha Rishi,” said Yudhishthira.
“Oh my god, I’m a known trouble-maker. It’s best you and your brothers come to an arrangement. I’ll offer my unbiased views.” The brothers’ continued silence prompted the rishi. “You’re the eldest. You’re the king. Lead.”
Yudhishthira cleared his throat and said, “I’m king and my brothers will follow my lead. But this is a delicate matter; a situation where we’re all equals. Tell us. Please.”
Narada held up his hand and studied his fingers. “Hm. Is that the best you can do?” The Pandavas understood. They were like fingers of one hand; not equals. “Yudhishthira, you speak first.”
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