The opening shot of the movie shows Kunti praying for Lord Krishna's protection for the Pandavas . Lord Krishna consoles Kunti and promises to ever protect the Pandavas and guide them through troubles and problems that may occur in life . The sons of Pandu and Dhritarashtra progeny break into an argument . When Duryodhana insults the Pandavas as '' dependents '' , Bheema counters by saying that , the Kauravas are the progeny of a widow . Duryodhana asks Veda Vyasa for an explanation . He is then told that , since his mother , Gandhari had an astrological defect , she is first married of to a goat and then married to his father . Duryodhana gains animosity towards the kingdom of Gandhara where the king , the father of his mother Gandhari , rules . He attacks Gandhara and lays waste of the whole kingdom . He them imprisons the royal family in his prison . He gives them only one rice grain per prisoner . The king of Gandhara then stops everyone from grabbing the little food that is provided . He says that instead of everyone dying , they could keep at least one of their princes alive . He chooses Sakuni to be alive . Sakuni takes an oath that he will do everything he can to destroy the entire Kaurava clan . He makes magic dice from his father's spinal cord . The magic dice show exactly the number that he would want . Duryodhana takes pity on the lone prisoner , Sakuni after the rest of the Gandhara royal family dies in prison out of starvation . Sakuni joins the evil of coterie of Duryodhana , Karna and Dushyasana .
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QUESTION: Is Sakuni a prince?

Captured Moments by Will Shetterly I remember Papa's stopbox, a teal blue Tiempo Capturado that Mama brought home for his birthday. It was huge and inefficient, and she should never have spent so many pesos on a toy, but Papa would not let her return it. He used it to preserve baby tomatoes, cucumbers, and strawberries in translucent cubes that he stored in the pantry for spring-time meals in the middle of winter. Mama kept her mink jacket, a family hand-me-down, safe from time in a stopbox, and lent the capturador to my uncle for his stamp collection. Sometimes they would let us little ones to seal a treasured toy or a last piece of birthday cake until we begged them for its release, usually a few hours after enclosing it. When my father died, a year after my mother, my sisters and I cleaned out their apartment. We found our baby shoes protected in stopboxes. I took mine home, where they sat above my computer while I worked on my first play. One night when I did not believe love had ever existed for anyone, I used my own capturador, a sleek titanium Sanyo Tardar Ahora, to undo the stopbox. Bringing my face close to the shoes, I breathed deeply of air that my parents had trapped while closing up that symbol of their love for me. The instant would have been improved had my baby shoes been cleaned before they were encased. But as soon as I coughed, I laughed, and I did not try to kill myself that night.
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QUESTION: What reason did the author give for coughing after breathing in the air from the stopbox the baby shoes were stored in?

Growing up on a farm near St. Paul, L. Mark Bailey didn't dream of becoming a judge. Even when he graduated from North Decatur High School in 1975, sitting on the bench someday seemed more like a leisurely activity than a career. Somewhere along the line, all of that changed. Bailey received his bachelor's degree from the University of Indianapolis in 1978 and a jurisprudence doctorate from Indiana University-Indianapolis in 1982. After several years of private practice from 1982-90, he became the judge of Decatur County Court for a year. The Indiana legislature renamed that judgeship and Bailey was tabbed Decatur Superior Court judge from 1992-98, winning reelection twice. From there, his career continued on the fast track and Bailey was appointed by Gov. Frank O'Bannon to sit on the Indiana Court of Appeals First District, where he works today. Despite his quick climb up the legal ladder, Bailey has always found time to help out in causes he feels strongly about. It was for his dedication to the law and the people that are affected by it that he was recently recognized. The Indiana Pro Bono Commission hosted its annual celebration event, the Randall T. Shepard Dinner, at French Lick Springs Spa in October. More than 100 judges, lawyers and dignitaries were present for the gathering. One of the highlights of the event was the presentation of the first-ever Randall T. Shepard award for excellence in pro bono work. Bailey received the award for his three years of volunteer work at Indiana Pro Bono Commission. The award was named after the chief justice of the Indiana Supreme Court to honor his statewide vision on justice. The qualifications for the award were based upon demonstrated dedication to the innovative development and delivery of legal services to the poor in one of the 14 pro bono districts of Indiana. "This award came as a real surprise to me. It is truly an honor. Just being the first chair of the commission which began the implementation of the pro bono process was somewhat humbling.
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QUESTION: What high school did Mark Bailey graduate?

When single father Thurman Williams needed help filling out papers in a custody suit recently, he didn't look to his lawyer for help. He walked to a computerized kiosk at the Lamoreaux Justice Center in Orange and started tapping the keys. As part of a legal experiment, litigants without lawyers across California are using computerized video kiosks to prepare common court filings and seek basic legal advice. The kiosk used by Williams is part of a statewide effort to cope with a flood of litigants who cannot afford or refuse to hire lawyers. Court officials statewide fear the number of self-represented litigants has reached crisis levels and threatens to clog court calendars. Like Williams, more than 6,000 Orange County litigants have initiated court actions on I-CAN! kiosks or accessed the programs on the Internet, using home computers. Similar programs are operating in Sacramento, San Diego and Ventura. A recent study of the kiosks' first 18 months of operation concluded it is too soon to tell if the system will relieve pressure on court calendars. But the report, by UC Irvine's School of Social Ecology, said users were overwhelmingly positive about the free legal assistance. "It's made life a lot easier for me," Williams said. "It's helped keep me from going to the poorhouse." The 29-year-old Orange resident was directed to a kiosk in the Lamoreaux Justice Center by court staff. After putting on headphones and following the directions of a videotaped instructor, Williams filled out a quarter-inch stack of paternity and custody documents. The exercise took 20 minutes; it would have cost him about $800 if he had relied on a lawyer, he said. "It was a lot easier than I thought." Whether they can't afford a lawyer or just want to save money, more Californians are going to court without a lawyer. "I'm just amazed at the numbers," said Commissioner Salvador Sarmiento, who hears between 40 and 90 child-support cases a day in Lamoreaux Justice Center.
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QUESTION:
How old is Williams?