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.Although he had not been here before, he had heard it had been a wasteland where nothing grew.He had also seen a miniature model of it in Balarama's room, and the passion in the Yadava leader's eyes, which energized everyone around him.He could easily imagine him working hard to raise this city up from nothing.His admiration for Balarama rose still higher.Dwaraka had an air of freshness and energy.There were shining mansions and swanky shops; curiously shaped chariots, with all manner of decorations and trappings, whizzing past in the streets; teenagers prancing around on horses; and elephants lumbering past carrying noblemen and women, leaving the sweet chimes of bells behind them.The city was completely unlike the mad chaos of Hastinapura or the exotic cosmopolitism of Muzaris.It was not yet the largest city in India but it was definitely on its way.It lacked the art and culture of Kashi or Kanchipuram and the glitter of Mathura, but compensated for it with the vigour of youth.Balarama was working his magic.He had built a city from nothing.He was also showing the world that he could build a city that followed rules - with clean streets, proper drains, hygienic eating-places, tree-lined avenues, and tiled footpaths.Balarama was showing everyone that all this was possible here and now.A guard broke into Karna's reverie.He bowed low and invited him to follow.Karna was escorted to the entrance of Balarama's chamber, where he hesitated a moment, wondering how the Yadava leader would receive him.Then he took a deep breath and entered.Balarama looked older.His hair had begun to recede, making his forehead look larger.He sat poring over the bundles of manuscripts piled on his table.What struck Karna immediately was the utter simplicity of his white attire.With a white cotton dhoti and a shawl thrown loosely over his shoulders as his only adornment, the great leader of the Yadavas looked like any of his people - except for the magnetism that emanated from him like an unseen force.Karna thought that without the gold ornaments, sparkling diamonds or pearl necklaces he had come to associate with the rich Kings of the Southern Confederate, Balarama looked almost naked.Karna stood, waiting patiently for Balarama to raise his head and say something.He felt embarrassed and irritated, but hoped this did not show on his face.He had expected a warmer reception from his mentor.After what seemed an eon, Balarama raised his head from the pile of work and smiled at Karna, who relaxed a little."By Shiva, you have grown so tall and handsome! My mind still carried the image of the young boy who stood in front of me years ago and spoke of his dreams.Karna, how happy I am to see you!" Balarama rushed to embrace the stiff young man."You are still a sentimental rascal.I knew you had come and were standing there waiting for me to say something.I was just seeing whether you had changed.I am happy to see you have not.You still have the emotions of a human being.I was afraid your training would have made you lose your goodness of heart and turned you into a calculating and manipulative man, hungry for worldly success.But your face reflects your goodness and I am happy, Karna."Karna cursed himself.Did his face really show whatever he thought? Balarama led him to the couch in the corner and sat down without letting loose his grip on Karna's wrist.He touched the armour and said admiringly, "It looks great on you.Such fine workmanship! Where did you get it?"These words broke through Karna's reticence.He recounted his adventures in the South and talked of the glittering Asura kingdoms and their proud Kings.He spoke of the horrible caste system, which was many times more rigid than in Hastinapura, and the dogmatic men who regulated it.He spoke of the miserable life of the Pariahs and other Untouchables, alongside the life of leisure of the richer classes.He described the great dance forms and magnificent temples, the architecture, engineering skills, and music, of the Southern Confederate, and the lovely lands that had been blessed by nature's bounty
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