Karna: The Great Warrior 2f121b

KARNA

THE GREAT WARRIOR

RANJIT DESAI TRANSLATED FROM THE MARATHI BY VIKRANT PANDE

CONTENTS

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38

39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54

About the Translator About the Book About the Author Copyright

PROLOGUE

The vast expanse of the Kurukshetra battlefield had never looked more desolate. The earth, despite the blazing sun above, seemed to have lost its vigour. After a pyrrhic battle, it was time for the funeral pyres to be lit. The mighty warriors, who had fought without a care for their own lives, now had their heads bowed, searching for the dead bodies of their valiant companions. At the end of it, victory and defeat had lost meaning. The very chariots whose wheels had rutted the earth now lay in shambles on the field. The war trumpets, whose sounds were enough to energize even the dead, now were conspicuous by their silence. The conch shells, whose solemn sounds had announced a victory lay carelessly on the earth littered with broken arrows. The shadows of the hungry vultures circling overhead threatened to darken the battlefield. The mighty Pandavas and other warriors like Dhaumya, Vidur and Yuyutsu, with the help of their servants, continued to perform the last rites. One after the other, the pyres were being lit. Dark, dense clouds darkened the skies over the pious land of Kurukshetra, where a golden hull had once ploughed the earth. The warriors, having completed their task, walked towards the banks of the Ganga as the sun descended towards the western horizon. The sight of the sacred river did not help to soothe their hearts burdened by the loss of their dear ones. Indifferent to the hot sand scorching their feet, they looked around with vacant eyes. The raging funeral pyres had subsumed the ecstasy of victory as well as the agony of defeat. A small tent had been erected on the sandy banks of the river where the women from the royal household waited for the men. Seeing the men walk towards the river with their heads bowed, they stood up to them. Yudhishthira stood in the midst of the flowing stream, the waters lapping at his knees while Rajmata Kunti sat on a patch of green grass with Draupadi standing near her. Behind them stood Krishna, calm as always. The other Pandava brothers—Bheema, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva—sat on the banks, their hearts overcome with sorrow. The arrogance of having vanquished the enemy, the zeal of having fulfilled a vow, or the joy of having emerged victorious had all lost their meaning. The time for a display of might was over. What remained were the memories of those who had lost their lives to achieve a victory, tragic at best. Yudhishthira offered oblations to each of the dead. The very mention of each

name triggered memories, and the tears continued to flow unabated. Soon, all the dead had been honoured. Yudhishthira asked, without turning back, ‘Have I forgotten anyone by any chance?’ Those on the banks looked at each other askance. They could not recall anyone. Yudhishthira’s words pierced Rajmata Kunti’s heart and she started shivering, her lips turning dry. Her tear-filled eyes looked at Krishna beseechingly. Krishna, staring blankly at the flowing waters of the Ganga, could not hold back his tears. Yudhishthira was about to turn when Kunti, finally finding her voice, screamed, ‘Krishna!’ Krishna looked at her as she implored, ‘Krishna, won’t you?’ She could not speak further. Everyone turned to Krishna, curious about what he would do. Letting out a deep sigh and adjusting the angavastram on his shoulders, Krishna walked towards the river. ‘Wait! Dharma, wait!’ Yudhishthira was surprised. ‘I have performed the oblations for all …’ Krishna shook his head. ‘No. There is one left.’ ‘Impossible! Krishna, the defeated may forget their dead, but the victorious never do. I realize the futility of the victory when I perform oblations, but I would not forget those who have sacrificed their lives for us.’ Krishna, for once, struggled with words. ‘Dharma, he was the one who accepted death to make you victorious. A warrior you considered an enemy, but one who never forgot the ties of blood. There was only one such …’ Dharma was agonized listening to Krishna. ‘Pitamah Bhishmacharya? But that’s impossible! He is waiting for Uttarayan. He has a boon to shed his body when he wishes to, and there is time for Uttarayan yet. Are you saying he …’ ‘No, Dharma. I am talking of Maharathi Karna …’ ‘What! Karna? Radheya?’ Yudhishthira erupted angrily. ‘Krishna, there is a limit to my patience. I am true to my dharma, but I won’t give offerings to one I

consider my enemy.’ ‘Even if he were family?’ ‘Krishna, I may choose to give offerings to the Kauravas for once but … Karna?’ ‘Listen to me before you say another word!’ Krishna interrupted. ‘Maharathi Karna is your eldest brother.’ ‘Krishna!’ ‘He was not Radheya. He was Kaunteya—Kuntiputra.’ ‘Lies!’ Yudhishthira covered his ears with his palms, not wanting to hear any more. Krishna could not hold his tears as they flowed freely down his cheeks. Dharma threw a questioning glance at his mother only to find her looking down, her chin resting on her palms, her elbows on her knees as she sat on the grass. Her silence conveyed everything. The other Pandavas stood up, unable to believe what they had just heard. ‘Yudhishthira, control yourself! No one can stop what fate had in store. Karna was the son of Surya and a boon Mata Kunti received when she was not yet married. Karna was the eldest and the best amongst Kunti’s sons. It is your duty to offer your oblations to him. I am telling the truth. Yudhishthira, I urge you— offer your prayers to Karna in respect for his being a Kaunteya, in humility for him being the eldest of you lot and in gratitude for his exemplary charity.’ Yudhishthira, the very essence of self-restraint, was shaken by Krishna’s words. With great difficulty, he cupped his hands with the waters of the Ganga and said, ‘In the arrogance of victory and my ignorance of who you are, I had always wished you dead. O Karna, my eldest brother and the best amongst Kunti’s sons, I, Yudhishthira …’ he faltered. The water slipped out of his fingers and fell, making a small dent in the flow of the river for a fleeting moment before merging into the stream. Yudhishthira collapsed into the waters. The rest of Pandavas could not remain mute spectators anymore.

Arjuna flung himself on the bank, his hands trying to clutch the sand as he muttered out of helplessness, ‘Karna … not Radheya … but Kaunteya … not an enemy but a brother! During the great duel, when he challenged me, it was I who had insulted him, taunting him as a mere charioteer’s son. Karna! Who, despite having the ability to pierce the fish’s eye during Draupadi’s swayamvara, was made a laughing stock because of our false attachments to societal norms. And he swallowed all those insults quietly! ‘Wasn’t he blamed when Draupadi was disrobed in public? Was it justified? Karna, I realized far too late that you had played no role in Abhimanyu’s death! But I had already avenged his death by killing your son. What is the point of the realization if you, despite knowing the truth, had kept quiet?’ Hearing footsteps, Arjuna looked up to see Krishna walking towards him. The sun behind his back silhouetted his frame. Arjuna scrambled to get up and shouted, ‘Krishna! Stop! Don’t come any closer. I don’t want your cursed hands to touch me. Who told you that we desire such a victory, sullied with the blood of our own? We would rather have spent the rest of our lives in the forest than cherish such a victory. Did I win the Gandeeva, the invincible bow, from Agni himself, to kill my very own brother? You knew the truth! Yet you chose to let us find it out through this unforgiving defeat. Is this how you treat someone who trusts you completely? I never imagined that you would be responsible for our disgrace. I hate you …’ Arjuna, with tears flowing, turned to walk away from Krishna. The other Pandava brothers followed suit. Krishna did not have the courage to stop them. He turned to look at Kunti and Draupadi. Draupadi stood without speaking, her mind stunned, her lips quivering. Tears welled up in her eyes. She stared at her right palm and was about to wipe away the kumkum from her forehead when Krishna held her hand in mid-air. Looking at Krishna, she asked, ‘Krishna, is it my destiny that I should lose all that I deeply wish for?’ Rajmata Kunti, in the meanwhile, struggled to stand up. Pulling her hand away from Krishna’s grip, Draupadi rushed to help her. Krishna could see, in a brief moment, the multitude of emotions which ed

through Kunti’s eyes. They both left without saying another word. No one remained behind. On the water’s edge, as the Ganga rushed by reflecting the slanting rays of the dying sun, stood Krishna. All alone.

1

The morning sun, already high above the horizon, burnt the earth, but for Karna, the heat was not a deterrent to his daily prayers as he stood in the Ganga, offering oblations to the sun god. His eyes were focused on the horizon as he prayed. Looking at the handsome young man, one could imagine that the sun god himself had descended into the waters. Finishing his prayers, he cupped the waters in his palms for one last time and asked, as always, ‘Is there a person in need here?’ He asked the question thrice and then let the water flow back into the river. Touching the palms to his eyes, he walked back to the bank where his clothes and sandals were folded in a neat pile. He stopped dead in his tracks. A lovely golden chariot, standing in the burning heat, caught his eye. It was his habit to park his chariot a distance from the river bank, almost hidden in the dense groves lest any needy person hesitate to ask for help. He would call out, asking if anyone was in need, and not turn to face the person till he or she had received the charity. Karna was ever alert lest he hesitate even for the briefest moment when it came to donating—even if it were to be an enemy in the guise of a needy person. Karna walked towards the golden chariot wondering who could have come at such an early hour to meet him. A smile crossed his face as he ed his dear friend Duryodhana. It had been a while since he had met the yuvraj! A tiger skin had been stretched to cover the chariot’s roof. Karna noticed the flag fluttering in the warm wind, lit up by the rays of the sun as it displayed its eagle insignia prominently. No, that could not be Duryodhana’s chariot. His symbol was an elephant bedecked with jewels. The charioteer, seeing Karna, stepped forward and said, ‘Dwarkadheesh Krishna Maharaj is waiting for you.’ Krishna! Karna had heard a lot about him. He was the one who had slayed the evil Kansa. He had dared abduct Rukmini and married her, and he was the one who had laid the foundations of the city of Dwarka. That very Krishna had come to meet him! Karna could not believe his luck. Krishna’s famed dusky complexion, his valour and his mature and steady mind were known to Karna. He was overwhelmed by the very thought of meeting him. Unable to react,

Karna stood rooted as he saw Krishna getting down the chariot. Wearing a lovely yellow pitambar and a green angavastram draped casually around his shoulders, Krishna walked towards Karna. The golden crown on his head glinted in the sun. His bluish-brown skin was unique, while his eyes were gently arresting. His smile had a hypnotic quality that could make even a stranger relax. Karna felt as if the lord himself had descended on earth in a human form. Krishna’s eyes, as he walked towards Karna, were focused on Karna’s earrings, the ones he had been born with. The golden kundalas added a glow to Karna’s fair skin. Karna’s angavastram, drenched with sweat and clinging to his body, could not hide his natural armour or kavach. The armour and the earrings added a unique charm to Karna’s handsomeness, and Krishna could not take his eyes off them, much to Karna’s embarrassment. Karna quickly folded his palms together in greeting as Krishna came near. Spreading out his arms, Krishna hugged Karna warmly. ‘Angaraj, we are nearly the same age; in fact, you may be a little older than me. Can we not meet as friends?’ Karna was enveloped by Krishna’s charm. Was there any doubt why the gopikas were so enamoured of him? His mellifluous voice could even put his famed flute to shame! Extracting himself gently out Krishna’s embrace, Karna said, ‘I am honoured to meet you. I might be older but you, who tamed the deadly Kaliya Mardan as a child, are wiser and elder in status. A man’s stature is not measured by his age but by his deeds. I have heard of your valour, your exploits and your powers from many warriors, kings and even saints. It is my privilege to bow down to Dwarkadheesh.’ After a pause, he continued, ‘It is my good fortune that you have come to meet me. I apologize for making you wait. I did not know …’ ‘There is no need to apologize. I went to your palace and was received warmly there. Realizing that you are in the midst of your daily prayers, I could not resist the temptation to come meet you here, in this state.’

‘This state?’ ‘I have heard of your earrings and your natural body armour for a long time. I would have been able to see your earrings at any time, but to see your armour I had to come here! I could feel its protective power even as I hugged you.’ Karna’s face showed a multitude of emotions. In an agonized tone, he said, ‘Oh! The earrings! I was born with them and the armour. But my own mother could not bear to keep me, and for reasons best known to her, she put me in a wicker basket and left me to my destiny to float down the river. Who was she? Why did she give me up? My mind goes crazy at times searching for answers to these questions. Whenever I see my face in a mirror, I try to imagine my mother. How beautiful she must have been! But I have never been able to visualize her. Her face is always clouded, hidden behind a veil of time. What can the armour do when one’s own mother deserts you? Krishna, these earrings are a curse! I think my fate has destined me to float on the currents of time.’ Krishna put his hand on Karna’s shoulder. Karna could see his eyes were a sea of comion. ‘Karna, I understand your agony. I too have experienced it. You were left to float on the currents while I had no choice but to cross over and seek the other bank. I grew up as Nanda’s child, while you found refuge in a charioteer’s home. Both of us were destined not to enjoy the luxury of a mother’s love. But you cannot row a boat if it were tied to the bank, can you?’ ‘Krishna, your childhood was a bad dream which soon got over. You did not have to live with the mystery of not knowing who your mother was. But me? Who am I? Why was I discarded at birth? These thoughts never leave me. It is not easy to get over the agony of a motherless childhood.’ Krishna was silent. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with the edge of his angavastram, he said, looking up at the glowing sun, ‘Angaraj, you have a boon to absorb the mighty sun’s energy—this is your penance. But I was born to graze cows and that too in the shade of the forest trees. But let’s talk of other things. Should we move towards the cool confines of your palace? What do you say?’ ‘My apologies! I completely forgot!’ Karna said hurriedly, realizing that they had been talking in the hot sun. ‘Let us go.’ He added, ‘You please go ahead. My chariot is waiting under the trees there. I will follow you.’

‘Daruk will bring your chariot. Come, me here.’ Karna, seeing Krishna taking the charioteer’s place, smiled. ‘Are you going to take me home? That is not possible. My fate has decreed what I should be. If you permit, I would like to be your sarathi.’ A smiling Krishna willingly obliged and sat while Karna took the reins. The chariot quickly picked up pace, the bells making a sweet tinkling sound as they moved towards Karna’s palace. Krishna was eager to see Champanagri, the capital city of Karna’s kingdom. Krishna noticed a huge moat and a thick protective wall built around the city while observation towers at various places ensured constant surveillance. People looked at the two of them with a mixture and awe and curiosity as they moved along broad tree lined avenues. Soon, the two chariots entered the wide expanse of a cobbled courtyard beyond which was a sprawling palace. Servants scrambled seeing the chariots enter the courtyard, and a few of them ran to steady the horses while their lord and his guest dismounted. Krishna seemed impressed. He said, getting down the chariot, ‘Karna, you know how to drive a chariot! My horses are of the Shaibya and Sugreev breeds, and they can detect the smallest tugs from the charioteer. Only a very well-trained person can handle them.’ ‘What is there to praise me for, Krishna?’ Karna said, laughing. ‘It is you who is known for your expertise as a charioteer. I was born in a charioteer’s household, and it is my second nature now.’ ‘It is your good fortune, I must say! After all, horses called desires are attached to the chariot of life and if one has learnt the art of mastering them, life can be beautiful.’ Krishna’s attention was diverted towards the broad steps leading up to the palace, where a maid stood with a pitcher of water and behind whom waited Vrushali, Karna’s wife, holding a tray to welcome the guests. The moment Krishna reached the bottom of the steps, the maid stepped forward to pour water on his feet and Vrushali welcomed him with a tilak on his forehead. Blessing her, Krishna said, ‘There is no need for such formalities.’

Vrushali smiled. ‘We wish we had known of your arrival. I am sorry I could not do justice to your welcome.’ ‘Had there been a fear of being an unwelcome visitor, I would not have come here unannounced, would I?’ A four-year-old boy caught Krishna’s attention. He ran into Karna’s arms when Karna said, ‘Vasu, won’t you welcome Maharaj?’ The boy looked at Krishna and then bent to put his head on his feet in respect. Lifting him up with affection, Krishna remarked, ‘Angaraj, he is the spitting image of you. What is his name?’ ‘Vrishasena.’ Looking at him iringly, Krishna said, ‘Angaraj, he does not have your earrings.’ ‘When you are lucky to have the shelter of parental love, where is the need for these?’ Krishna smiled, nodding his head in agreement. ‘That’s so true! After all, he has the good fortune of being born in a fearless warrior’s house. Angaraj, what about your parents?’ ‘They reside in Hastinapur.’ ‘Hastinapur?’ ‘That’s right. The ones under whose care I grew, Adhirath and Radhai, live in Hastinapur. They did not have any children of their own, and when they found me floating in the river, it was a wish fulfilled for Radhai. Adhirath has served under Maharaj Dhritarashtra all this while. He looks after their stables now.’ ‘What about your other family?’ ‘My first wife Urmila had two sons, Shatrunjay and Vrishaketu. But Urmila left this world when Vrishaketu was very young. I then married Vrushali. I came here to look after this kingdom while Vrishaketu is being looked after by Radhai;

he reminds her of me, you know!’ ‘And Shatrunjay?’ ‘He is growing up with Yuvraj Duryodhana’s children.’ They had reached the main hall, chatting all the way. The handmaidens and other servants were busy with errands to take care of their guest. Karna asked, ‘Did you come all the way from Dwarka to meet me? ‘Not really, Angaraj. I had gone to the land of Kamrup for a penance. This is part of the same territory. It used to be called Kamashray earlier. Our stories say that Madan, running away from Shiva to not be burnt by his anger, dropped dead here. As a result, this area is called Angadesh. It is one of the sixteen mahajanapads, the sixteen kingdoms that form our country. This territory, discarded by all, has got a new lease of life thanks to your presence.’ ‘I have not seen Dwarka, but I can well imagine its grandeur. Champanagri, I am sure, is nothing in comparison!’ ‘It is not grandeur which gives charm and grace to a city, Karna. A land gets its glory when intelligent and wise men reside there. Your popularity has spread far and wide. After all, there is no land more prosperous than one where everyone is satisfied. Traversing your kingdom, spread from Baidyanath to Bhubaneshwar, is like taking a pilgrimage.’ Krishna’s words were music to Karna’s ears. He said, ‘A person like me, born in a lowly household, needs to do penance. Why do you, born with all the qualities a man needs, need to undertake tapasya?’ ‘Radheya, can anyone escape tapasya? It is, after all, the bedrock of success. If one wants to learn the art of archery, he has to study with Guru Dronacharya. To learn how to handle horses, one has to become Adhirath’s disciple. To be a good wrestler, you have to see Jarasandha in action. After all, it is only through hardwork and meditation that one can earn heroism, glory, and fame.’ No one knew how time flew when they were in the presence of Krishna. All of Champanagri throbbed with a renewed energy. The soldiers accompanying Krishna were looked after by the citizens while the royal palace was busy

hosting its most important visitor, and merriment and food were available in abundance. Vrishasena followed Krishna like a shadow wherever he went.

Karna woke up in the early hours of the morning to the sound of soft and mellifluous music. He strained his ears for the source of the intoxicatingly sweet tune. He glanced at Vrushali to find her sleeping peacefully on the bed. He touched her cheeks gently, waking her up but she, instead of getting up, held his palms to her cheeks and kept her eyes closed. Karna called out softly, ‘Vasu …’ ‘Ummm.’ ‘Get up, Vasu. One should not sleep when one’s destiny comes knocking.’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Listen!’ They both heard the strains of the music wafting through the windows. It was getting brighter. The light of the burning lamp seemed unnecessary. Vrushali, looking around, asked, ‘Where is Vrishasena?’ Karna smiled and said, ‘Come with me.’ The music increased in intensity as they moved towards Krishna’s room. The guards at the door moved away seeing them approach. Karna stopped at the door to see Krishna sitting on his bed playing the flute, his eyes closed, while Vrishasena sat listening, completely engrossed. The notes from the wooden flute filled the room. Karna came to his senses when the music stopped and he heard Krishna’s voice. ‘Angaraj, why are you standing at the doorstep? Please come in. I hope I did not wake you up.’ ‘I don’t know if you woke me up, but I do know that I was hypnotized.’ Krishna, hugging Vrishasena sitting next to him, said, ‘This son of yours is a darling. I played the flute only to please him. While taking my clothes out last night, he spotted this flute and insisted that I play for him. I promised him that I would but only at an hour when no one else would be awake. He is a determined

fellow. He woke up before dawn and knocked at my door!’ ‘It seems he troubles you a lot,’ Vrushali said. ‘On the contrary, he gave me immense happiness. I learnt how to play the flute when I used to be alone in the forest, grazing the cows. The flute made many people happy. Now I have no time for it. Even if I do, I don’t find the kind of audience I once had!’ ‘Your flute has the capability to mesmerize anyone.’ ‘Angaraj,’ Krishna said, waving the flute, ‘this flute has nothing in it. It is simply a hollow reed with a few holes in it. One has to gently blow into it and use one’s fingers as delicately as possible to make the kind of music which mesmerizes. The flute in itself has nothing.’ Krishna was lost in his own world as he continued, ‘Karna, what is human life after all? This body, like the flute, needs the gently touch of love, to transform itself.’ Vrishasena looked at Krishna and asked, ‘Maharaj, can I learn to play the flute?’ Krishna patted his head affectionately. ‘Vrishasena, I would tell you not to learn. One can get out of breath playing, and the notes can torture as much as they can soothe the battered soul.’ Krishna’s change of tone was a surprise. He glanced at the window to see the rays of the sun streaming in. Getting up hurriedly, he said, ‘Oh! I forgot to welcome the sun god.’

2

The sound of laughter from the garden woke Krishna up from his afternoon siesta. Splashing water on his face from a shallow bowl near the window, he looked out into the garden. Vrishasena stood with a small bow in hand as he aimed at a peacock made of grass. He pulled the string and steadying the bow as he aimed, he released the arrow. It neatly pierced the neck of the peacock. He turned to look at his father when he heard Krishna’s voice from the window, ‘Well done!’ Both father and son turned to see Krishna waving at them. ‘Wait! I will come down,’ said Krishna. He stepped into the garden to find Karna embarrassed about waking him up from his siesta. ‘I am sorry to have disturbed you.’ ‘Why are you apologizing? I would have missed this if I had still been asleep. By the time he is old enough to go the ashram, I suspect he will have nothing left to learn.’ ‘Vrishasena will have to learn on his own. He is not going to be taught what he wants,’ Karna said, his voice sounding bitter. ‘Why do you say that? Did you not learn from Dronacharya? He will also find a suitable guru when he grows up.’ ‘Thanks to the large-heartedness of Dhritarashtra Maharaj and my father’s close acquaintance with him, I was lucky enough to go the ashram along with the princes. I standing in line to be inspected by Gurudev when he shouted, “Step back, Radheya! A charioteer is not blessed with the singleminded focus required to learn the art of archery. Watch the princes and follow them. You just might learn something.”’ The very memories of those days made Karna’s face red with anger. Picking up his bow, he stretched the string and said, ‘Now, watch the peacock’s eye.’ He took aim, his arm steady, and within moments an arrow shot out of the bow to pierce the peacock’s eye.

‘This eye has taught me a lot. I have come to realize that one can master an art only through discipline and hard work. The low-born do not have the luxury of a guru meant for princes. When Dronacharya refused to teach me the Brahmastra, I sought to learn with Gurudev Parshuram. He accepted me only when I falsely claimed to be a Brahmin’s son. I learnt the art of Brahmastra, but had to live with two curses when he discovered my real identity. My ability to bear pain was my failing; he knew a Brahmin’s son could never have such self-restraint. Eklavya, who too had learnt through penance, had to give up his thumb, the very essence of an archer. Maharaj, if Vrishasena has to master the art of archery, he will have to do it on his own!’ ‘Angaraj, you may not have had the good fortune of Dronacharya’s tutelage, but did that stop you from gathering knowledge? You may not have had the affection of a guru, but did you not receive immense love from a friend? You enjoy the fruits of this kingdom thanks to your friendship, don’t you? Your parentage did not come in the way of you getting it, did it?’ Krishna said. Krishna’s words were enough to arouse Karna’s pride and he said, looking into Krishna’s eyes, ‘I am proud of my friendship with Duryodhana, and why I shouldn’t I be? We became friends during a competition for best archer: I was amongst the many curious spectators watching each of the princes displaying his skills. I challenged Arjuna, confident that I could beat him. Krupacharya, unable to bear that someone had the audacity to challenge his favourite disciple, and out of greater loyalty to his royal patronage than to his own dharma of being a teacher, deliberately asked me to spell my parentage. Not that my parentage was a secret in Hastinapur. After all, my father Adhirath is well known. But what does one say of a guru who chooses to protect his disciple’s reputation rather than live up to the high standards of the ashram’s ideals? And thus, while everyone at the competition was enjoying the insults being heaped upon me, Duryodhana stepped forward and declared me the king of Angadesh.’ ‘I am aware of his devotion to you.’ ‘But Karna is known to give and not take. I did not accept his favours. It was during Chitrangada’s daughter’s swayamvar, when Duryodhana snatched the bride-to-be away, that I stayed back to fight the enemy. I accepted the duel Jarasandha challenged me to, which I won, and that’s when he offered me the city of Malini; it is called Champanagri now. Having won it on my own , I declared myself the king of Angadesh.’

‘I have heard of your duel. I was forced to shift the capital of the Yadavas from Mathura to Dwarka to protect us from Jarasandha. To defeat him in a duel is an act of remarkable courage.’ Karna calmed down hearing Krishna’s praise, realizing that he may have reacted a tad unnecessarily. He said, changing the topic, ‘May I say something?’ ‘Please!’ ‘If you love me, please don’t address me formally.’ ‘Agreed!’ ‘And will you come to tour the city with me? My people are eagerly waiting to see you!’ ‘Why not? I have met the king. It will be a pleasure to meet his subjects too!’

The entire town had gathered in the streets to glimpse of their revered visitor. After a tour of the town, its stables and other places, Karna stopped the chariot in front of an old but large home. A few guards stood at the entrance, and they rushed to open the gates. Stepping in, Krishna saw a large courtyard, in the middle of which stood a parijat tree. Looking at the tree trunk, Krishna could see that it was a very old tree. A raised platform with beautifully carved pillars on four sides stood near the tree. Krishna climbed the few steps leading to the platform to find a small but extremely elegantly designed chariot standing there. Each part of the chariot seemed to have been handcrafted with lot of care and attention. It was a masterpiece. Curious about the place, he asked, ‘Karna, whose house is this?’ Karna, lost in his own thoughts, did not realize that the question was directed at him and didn’t say anything. ‘Whose house is this?’ Krishna repeated. ‘It is ours. This is where I spent a very happy childhood. My mother never let me feel that I was an orphan. I don’t think there is anything more divine than parental love. Radhai gave birth to her own children later, but that never came in the way of their love for me.’ Karna gently caressed the chariot as he spoke, his voice becoming emotional. ‘You know, my father built this for me when I was a small boy … I had gone to the ashram, and it was his way of keeping himself busy in my absence. But he made an error.’ ‘What was that?’ Karna smiled. ‘He made the chariot for the Karna who had gone to the ashram as a mere lad, but who returned as a man. I teasing him to no end on this.’ The memories of his childhood took away the smile from Karna’s face as tears welled up in his eyes. ‘The chariot has remained here. My father never allowed anyone to use it; not even his own children. Whenever I think of my parents, I come here. The place has been kept the way they left it.’ Krishna placed his hand on Karna’s shoulder. ‘Karna, this is the state of our

dreams too, don’t you think? We protect them and keep them safe in our hearts, but we realize that they are quite different from what we had imagined when they become reality.’ Karna looked at Krishna for a moment. ‘The truth is always more difficult to accept, Keshav!’ Realizing that it was getting dark, he said, ‘Let us return to the palace for our meal.’ By the time they returned to Karna’s palace, the lamps had been lit. After dinner, when Krishna mentioned he would leave the next morning, both Karna and Vrushali were taken by surprise. Karna said, ‘Please forgive us if we have fallen short in our hospitality. We really want you to stay with us for a while.’ ‘Karna, your palace is like heaven, and I really would love to stay here but I have promised to attend Drupad’s daughter’s swayamvar. Drupad is a dear friend and I cannot make him unhappy. You must have received the invitation as well?’ ‘Yes, I have.’ ‘Are you not attending then?’ ‘No.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Drupad is not a friend, and if warriors attend a swayamvar, it should be to participate in it.’ Looking at Vrushali, he continued, ‘I have found what I want. I don’t need to attend any more swayamvars.’ Krishna smiled while Vrushali turned away, blushing. Karna asked, ‘Do you have to leave tomorrow?’ ‘Yes. I have to be there to help with the arrangements.’ ‘I am told the princess is really beautiful.’ ‘Beautiful is a shallow description. She isn’t actually Drupad’s daughter. She was born out of the sacred fire when he performed a yagna.’ Looking at Vrushali, he added, ‘Don’t send him even if he changes his mind and wants to

attend. That Yagnaseni will fall for his looks and his earrings! Karna, don’t feel upset that I am leaving. After all, it is not the amount of time we spend but the way we spent together matters. I will never forget the affection I received here.’ The next morning, as the sun turned the eastern sky red, Krishna prepared to leave. Karna, Vrishasena and Vrushali were at the city gates to bid him farewell. Krishna said, ‘I must go now.’ ‘Let me ride with you for a while.’ ‘No. Extending a farewell only makes it painful. Just stand here while I leave.’ Karna could not hold back his tears. Their time together had felt like a lifetime of friendship. ‘Krishna, what can I say? If I ask you stay, I would be imposing my wishes on you. If I ask you to go, I will seem rude. If I say “Do as you wish,” I will sound indifferent. I know one thing though, whenever we think of each other, it will be with happiness.’ Krishna hugged Karna and rubbing his hand on his back said, ‘Tathastu!’ He folded his hands to bid Vrushali goodbye. He raised his hand but was unable to say anything in blessing. Vrishasena stepped forward touched Krishna’s feet. Krishna lifted him and hugged him affectionately. Addressing Karna he said, ‘Friend, take care of him.’ Krishna held out his angavastram, a lovely piece of silk with exquisite embroidery, and said, ‘This has been woven by my best weavers. I want you to have it. Let that remind you of me. I will take your leave now.’ He turned and walked briskly towards his chariot. Vrushali and Karna were unable to say anything and watched Krishna walk away. Within moments, a conch shell announced his departure. The chariot, followed by Krishna’s cavalry, slowly moved out of the palace grounds. Karna folded his hands as the chariot vanished in the direction of the rising sun. He let out a deep sigh and as he watched as the rising dust, he said, ‘Vrushali, I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be so overjoyed to meet him. His very presence lights up everything around him.’

It was afternoon when Karna was relaxing in his room. Vrishasena came in and asked, ‘Father, when will Krishna Maharaj return?’ It had been eight days since Krishna’s departure, but the young boy had been unable to forget him. Karna too missed him dearly. ‘Father, when will he return?’ ‘Vasu, we receive such divine intervention only when destiny wills it. We do not know when we will be blessed like this again.’ Karna’s words were beyond Vrishasena’s comprehension. He was about to question his father when he saw his mother at the door. ‘We have a guest,’ Vrushali said.

3

Karna’s palace was abuzz with activity to welcome their guest, Duryodhana. His regal chariot with an elephant on the flag stood outside, and the soldiers accompanying him had been accommodated in the large grounds adjacent to the palace. At dawn, Karna went to receive his friend. Seeing Karna fold his hands, Duryodhana hugged him and asked, ‘What are these formalities for? You are Angaraj, my friend!’ ‘I am both, thanks to your mercy.’ ‘Have I kept you waiting?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘I had come in to see you last night but realized that you might be resting—I did not want to disturb you.’ Duryodhana rested for a while. ‘You are being formal again! Your house is mine!’

That afternoon, when they were eating, Duryodhana said, ‘Karna, I didn’t come here simply to meet you—I want you to come with me.’ ‘As you command, my friend.’ ‘Don’t you want to know to where?’ ‘I am yours to command.’ ‘There is a golden opportunity to show your skills and valour.’ ‘Valour?’ ‘Yes! I want you come with me to the swayamvar.’ ‘Drupad’s daughter’s swayamvar?’ ‘That’s right! You seem to have received the invitation as well.’ ‘Yes, I did. Krishna too talked about it.’ ‘Krishna?’ ‘I forgot to mention it to you—he was here a week ago.’ ‘Here? Why?’ ‘To meet Karna,’ Vrushali answered. ‘We really enjoyed having him here for those two days.’ ‘Oh, I see!’ Duryodhana mumbled, lost in thought. ‘Is something bothering you?’ Karna asked, looking at Duryodhana. ‘Did Krishna come here for a specific reason?’ ‘No. He said he was returning from Kamrup and thought he’d visit me on his way back.’

Duryodhana laughed. Slapping his hand on his thigh, he said, ‘There is no happenstance when it comes to Krishna. We may think it so when we do not know his purpose. Let me tell you why Krishna was here: he is scared of Jarasandha. He is Krishna’s arch-enemy, and your friendship helps him keep Jarasandha at bay.’ Karna did not comment and stayed silent. Duryodhana asked, ‘So, are you coming along for the swayamvar or not?’ ‘No.’ ‘Why? Are you worried that you will fail the challenge?’ ‘What challenge?’ ‘Drupad has created a rotating wheel with a fish in the centre. You are the only who has the skill to pierce its eye.’ ‘Yuvraj, thanks to your largesse, I have this palace and kingdom. I have Vrushali as my life partner—I don’t need anything else. This palace does not need another queen.’ ‘You don’t have to cover your timidity with these excuses.’ ‘I am not afraid.’ ‘The rest of the Kauravas have already given me some excuse or the other to avoid the swayamvar. It seems you have one ready as well.’ ‘I am not worried about the challenge,’ Karna asserted, his pride pricked. ‘Of course! I know that,’ Duryodhana taunted. ‘My friend, you know that I have learnt my art not only from Dronacharya but from Bhagwan Parshuram himself.’ ‘Stop it, Karna,’ Duryodhana said, his voice taking on an edge. ‘If you cannot use your skills when required, what purpose do they serve? Do you know what Drupad has told all the invitees? That only the ones who have the courage to

take up the challenge may come forward. If not, they are welcome to enjoy his hospitality and be mere spectators. We need to show who we are at the swayamvar! You cannot sit quietly when the pride of Kauravas is being challenged.’ ‘All right, I will come with you. I am sure I will win. I hope that will keep the Kaurava prestige intact?’ Duryodhana was immensely pleased. He slapped Karna’s back affectionately and looking at Vrushali, he asked, ‘Sister, I hope you don’t mind?’ ‘No. I will be happy to welcome the new queen here.’ While they were leaving, Karna hugged Vrushali and said, ‘I hope you realize managing another queen is not easy.’ Extracting herself from his embrace she said, ‘I know. I would not have encouraged you to go had I not been aware of it.’ Karna could not help the swell of iration he felt for his queen as he took her leave.

4

Drupad had planned the swayamvar at a scale at which no one had ever seen before. The grounds around the palace had been decorated to set up tents for all the royal invitees. Craftsmen from Panchal had worked tirelessly for months to create a heaven on earth. The residents lined the streets to watch as royals from Kamrup, Magadh, Gandhar, Saurashtra, Kamboj and many other kingdoms arrived with the hope of winning Drupad’s daughter’s hand. Duryodhana and Karna also entered the city one fine morning. Seeing that most of the invitees had arrived, Drupad announced the day for the swayamvar. As per vaastu shastra, the hall where the competition leading to the swayamvar would be held was built in the north-east corner of the city. On the day of the swayamvar, Drupad’s key officials stood in a line to welcome the invitees and were graciously seated as they entered. Jarasandha, seeing Duryodhana and Karna enter, stood up and said, ‘Hail the great Kauravadhipati, Yuvraj Duryodhana.’ Duryodhana bent his head and said, ‘Please bless me, mighty Jarasandha!’ Jarasandha welcomed Karna warmly and said, ‘Angaraj, I hope you are well.’ ‘By your grace, I am.’ ‘We have no fear now that you are here,’ he said. Turning to Duryodhana, he said, ‘Yuvraj, Angaraj’s presence has made the winner clear.’ They were both taken to their seats when Karna, scanning the guests, spotted Krishna. A slight tilt of his head was enough for Krishna to acknowledge his salutation, and he responded with an affectionate smile. Karna turned to look at the matsya yantra, the task created specifically for the swayamvar. The matsya yantra consisted of a large wheel with a golden fish attached to the centre. The contestants were to lift the bow, string it, and pierce the eye of the fish as it rotated on the wheel above—while looking at the reflection of the fish in a golden bowl of water and not directly at the matsya yantra itself!

A hush descended in the hall as Drupad Maharaj entered. He welcomed everyone warmly his hands folded in greetings. ‘Greetings, valiant kings who have assembled here today! My daughter Draupadi, born of the sacred fire of a yagna, is here to find her husband. The person who can string the bow and pierce the eye of the fish will be garlanded by my daughter, proclaiming him as her husband.’ A loud buzz erupted amongst the royals as they looked at the matsya yantra and the bow, while they discussed the best way to approach the task amongst themselves. But the murmurs subsided as Drupad’s daughter entered the hall. Walking ahead of the princess, leading the way, was Drupad’s son Dhrishtadyumna. Draupadi walked gracefully holding a garland of flowers in her hand and sat on a high chair, a little distance from the matsya yantra. The sight of her stumped Karna—he could not take his eyes off her beauty. Whatever he had heard had not been an exaggeration. In fact, any description of her fell short of reality. Each one of the royals in the hall were mesmerized her the dusky beauty. Her lotus eyes, her arched eyebrows, which could easily put a bow to shame, and her svelte figure—she was truly a goddess! Soon, the swayamvar began. Dhrishtadyumna would announce the name of the king who would next try his hand at the challenge. As the participant walked towards the centre of the hall, he was introduced by announcing the kingdom he was from and the special talents he possessed. A succession of kings went back with their heads bowed because they were not able to even lift the bow. Of the few who could lift it, no one could manage to string it. No one had yet even strung the bow successfully, let alone loosing an arrow. As time went by, the rishis in attendance had worried looks on their faces, wondering whether they had put forward a task that was impossible for anyone to perform. Duryodhana turned to look at Karna. It was time for Karna to accept the challenge. ‘Princess,’ Dhrishtadyumna said, looking at his sister, as he introduced Karna. ‘The king who would now accept this challenge does not have an equal. He has defeated many kings with his valour, and his prowess is known far and wide—

Angaraj Maharathi Karna!’ Draupadi, who had so far been cursorily glancing at the participating kings, looked up to meet Karna’s gaze. She could not help stare at his majestic figure as he walked towards her. Her eyes shone with a different light, and there was mild tremor in her hands holding the garland. Karna gave her a final glance before touching the bow. A shiver ran through Draupadi’s body as if he had touched her and not the bow. An audible gasp went through the hall as Karna picked up the bow in a single, smooth motion. In the next instant, he had bent the bow and strung it. The mighty bow seemed as pliable as if it were a palm tree bent in the wind. Everyone was now focused on watching the mighty archer in action. Karna picked up an arrow and placing it on the string, he looked at the water in the golden bowl. For a moment, he saw the reflection of the beautiful princess and a smile crossed his face. Kneeling down to rest his right knee on the ground, he adjusted his left hand on his left thigh as he pulled the strings to take aim. He was the picture of concentration as he focused his attention on the rotating fish, his body taut. The fish rotated quickly in a small circle above. It was the eye which Karna had to pierce. He waited for the right moment to release the arrow. The spectators held their breath. No one dared to breathe lest they disturb him. Karna was about to release the arrow when a voice, sharper than the tip of the arrow, broke his concentration. In the silence of the hall, the words echoed. ‘I cannot marry a sutaputra!’ The words pierced Karna’s ears as if someone had poured molten lead into them. Turning towards Draupadi, he glared, his eyes focused on her face. Dhrishtadyumna, unable to understand his sister’s objection asked, ‘What did you say?’ Draupadi replied, her voice high with arrogant confidence, ‘I said, I cannot marry a sutaputra, a lowborn man. He may pierce the eyes of ten such fish but I cannot be his wife. Bhratashri, tell him that a crow cannot aspire to marry a swan.’ Karna stood up and flung the bow aside, his pride stung. He looked up to see the rays of the sun piercing through a gap in the tent, mocking him. Karna smiled at

the sun god for the sheer irony of the whole episode. Without looking at Drupadi, he turned to leave. At first, the audience was too stunned to react. Krishna and Jarasandha got up but the first one to come forward was Duryodhana who had unsheathed his sword and marched after Karna. Karna, his right hand firmly holding Duryodhana’s shoulder, nodded towards the door and said, ‘Let us go.’ As they stepped out of the huge tent, Duryodhana asked, ‘My friend, why did you leave? We could easily have taken her and …’ ‘I don’t want her.’ ‘Listen to me! This is an opportune moment. We have friends like Jarasandha here. We can create havoc if you want.’ ‘Did you not hear me, Yuvraj? I don’t want any part of that. I don’t care whom she marries. Let us go now.’ Duryodhana was confused. ‘Angaraj, what exactly do you want me to do?’ ‘To begin with, allow me to leave. I want to be alone!’ Karna bowed and left without waiting for Duryodhana to respond. A few minutes later, a golden chariot followed by a few cavalrymen was seen leaving Drupad’s kingdom at a rapid pace.

5

Seeing Karna’s chariot enter the gates of the palace, Vrushali began running excitedly to the door. But before she could reach the door, Karna had already entered his chambers. She came into his room to see Karna with Chakradhar, a close friend of his. Karna smiled as he saw her. ‘Is the swayamvar over? And why have you returned alone?’ she asked, a little surprised to see him without the new queen. ‘Duryodhana stayed back.’ ‘You know I am not asking about him. You were supposed to win the contest at the swayamvar. What happened?’ ‘I could not do it.’ ‘Are you saying you could not win the competition?’ Chakradhar stepped forward to interject, ‘Sister, let me tell you what happened.’ ‘Chakradhar!’ Karna warned, his voice rising. Ignoring the threat in Karna’s voice, Chakradhar continued, ‘Sister, the competition was difficult. After all, one was to pierce the eye of a fish rotating on a wheel in the air. No one could even lift the bow, forget stringing it and taking aim. Karna, however picked up the bow and strung it with ease.’ ‘And then?’ Vrushali asked, warming up to Chakradhar’s recounting. ‘He was about to release the arrow and pierce the eye of the fish when he decided to drop the bow and walk away …’ ‘But why?’ ‘Because he was pierced instead. He was hurt before the arrow was released.’ ‘What?’ Vrushali said, unable to make sense of what Chakradhar was saying. ‘Sister, before he could release the arrow, that beautiful but arrogant princess said, “I cannot marry a low-born. A crow should not dare to even look at a

swan.”’ Chakradhar’s fists curled involuntarily at the very memory of the incident. Vrushali’s face drained of colour. She asked, ‘What happened then?’ ‘What else would happen? Your husband swallowed her insults without saying a word and throwing the bow on the floor, he walked out of the hall. He did not turn to look back even once till he reached here.’ Karna remained silent. Looking at Karna beseechingly, Vrushali asked, knowing that Chakradhar was telling the truth, ‘Is that true?’ Karna smiled wryly. ‘Yes. Each and every word of it.’ Vrushali’s pride now turned to anger. Her cheeks, white as the ketaki flower, turned pink. Her sharp nose and nostrils flamed with rage and the veins on the back of her ears throbbed. Her usually smiling eyes were spitting fire as she asked, ‘What made you suffer silently? You should have turned the hall upside down and dragged the arrogant princess to our home …’ ‘Sister, that is precisely what Yuvraj Duryodhana suggested. But Angaraj was not willing to listen.’ ‘Chakradhar, Vrushali, don’t forget, when Duryodhana decided to snatch Chitrangada’s daughter Bhanumati from the swayamvar on my advice, it was I who had stayed back to fight. I know my strengths. If I had to, I could have displayed my might here too.’ ‘Then what stopped you?’ ‘She wouldn’t have been my queen had I forcibly brought her here—and it’s not that she had the qualities to be one.’ ‘I don’t understand …’ ‘There is nothing to understand! Yes, Draupadi is beautiful. But that is all she is. There is no place in my life for a woman who prizes lineage over capability and looks rather than qualities of a man. She is not even fit to be a maid in our

palace. That is why I restrained myself.’

6

Karna’s palace was enveloped in silence. The tall lamps gave out a mild but pleasant light, and some of them had already burnt themselves out. The only one awake was Karna. Vrushali, having waited for him, had dozed off alone in her chambers. Karna sat alone in the balcony of his room, a tumbler of wine in his hand. It was past midnight, but he had lost track of the time as the hours had ticked by. A lamp flickered in the wind, attracting Karna’s attention. A Flame! A flickering flame! That Yagnaseni. Wasn’t she produced from a yagna’s flame too? Flickering, with the power to burn! Her very nature was to burn, to destroy. A mere touch was enough to singe someone. Yagnaseni! Draupadi! What had Drupad offered into the fires of that yagna? What mantras had he recited? Did he offer pride, arrogance, lust, anger, intoxication, jealousy into the fire? How else could the fire produce someone like Draupadi? ‘I will not marry a low-born!’ she had said. The sheer arrogance of it! Draupadi, by what right do call me a charioteer’s son? You arrogant beauty, what lineage can you boast of? Are you Drupad’s daughter? You are a mere offering that emerged out of the sacred fire when Drupad performed a yagna to destroy Dronacharya, his guru-bhai! What right does such a person have to question my lineage? Karna poured some more wine into his tumbler. He took a sip before leaning back on the pillows. In spite of closing his eyes, images of the swayamvar continued to haunt him. I had not taken up the challenge enamoured by your beauty. I had not pulled the strings of the bow filled with thoughts of embracing your sensual body. I don’t care about such things. But why had I taken up the challenge then? The very thoughts made Karna sit upright. It had upset him. He looked at the flickering lamp once again.

Why had I accepted the challenge? Not to win the beautiful princess, but because I was representing Duryodhana. It was not a challenge for beauty’s sake but for the sake of my honour, and it was my duty to accept it. An act of valour was more important than the rewards it would reap. Had I known that lineage was a factor, I would never have agreed to attend the swayamvar. I would never have allowed my family to be insulted in a hall filled with royals. I have experienced this once before. Would I have allowed it to happen again? But it did happen! Should I blame myself? Who is to be blamed? Draupadi? Does she not have the right to decide whom she should marry? No! It was not her right. If she had had any rights, there would have been no need to put up an elaborate challenge. Drupad had made it clear: Draupadi was the prize the winner would get. Karna paused to fill his tumbler once again. Swallowing it in one go, he put the tumbler on the table. His thoughts continued to torture him … Wine is meant to numb the mind and makes the memory fuzzy. One forgets the insults. But what is wrong with this wine today? Has the wine too forgotten its nature? I was insulted in a crowded sabha—and that too at the hands of a woman! A woman! She forgot about her modesty, her femininity … and I was unable to prove my valour! Why did I allow her to insult me? How did this happen? Karna picked up the tumbler to find it empty. A little unsteady, he managed to sit down. How did this happen? Why? Draupadi! Born of fire, what else does she know other than burning things up? It is her very nature! I was the one floating on a current, the one found in a basket … what else can I do other than tolerate things? Accept and tolerate whatever insults come my way … the very essence of Angaraj … Radheya … a charioteer’s son … a

charioteer’s son … a sutaputra! I don’t feel insulted when someone says that. On the contrary, I am proud of my parentage. I am enraged at how people make it sound insulting. What pride people carry about their lineage! High-born—who exactly is high-born? Does it mean being born in a royal household? Or is someone considered high-born if they are born into a Brahmin family? Shouldn’t the household that teaches good values and ethics, one that moulds character and good behaviour, be given the highest respect? Rather than someone born in so-called high-caste family, I salute those who proudly proclaim their profession, whether a charioteer, a potter or a carpenter. Those who have taken the help of a third party to beget offspring have no right to talk of someone else’s lineage. Karna picked up the jug of wine to fill his tumbler only to realize that it was empty. As he got up, he looked at the flame again. It flickered, as if fearing his wrath. Karna threw the jug in disgust at the flame. The metal jug clanged against the wall and fell to the floor, making a loud noise, waking up Vrushali. She got up to see him standing at the door, his eyes red and his vision blurred. Seeing her husband in such a state, a sob escaped her lips. Karna, waking up from his reverie, realized that Vrushali was sobbing and asked, ‘Vrushali, are you crying for me? Because I was insulted?’ He walked forward a little unsteadily and shouted out loudly, ‘Madanika! Madanika!!’ Madanika, a beautiful maid in the place, half-asleep at that late hour, hurried in after hearing her master’s voice, wondering if there had been some emergency. Having rushed in, she did not even realize that she had not covered her bodice with her upper garment. Standing half-covered, she looked sensual, a living goddess. Pointing at her Karna said, ‘Look at her, Vrushali! Isn’t she desirable? To me, she is a million times more beautiful than Yagnaseni. There are many such handmaidens in the palace who would be happy if I were to touch them. But does that mean I am going to? Vrushali, Karna has never accepted charity. Madanika, you may go now and sleep without fear.’

Madanika, unable to understand her lord’s words, stepped out silently, closing the door behind her. Karna flung himself on his bed and pulled Vrushali towards him. She fell on his chest and, resting her head on him, started crying again. Karna gently patted her head while her tears fell. ‘Vasu … don’t cry, don’t torture yourself for me. This husband of yours is a warrior, and you know that. Winning or victory alone does not prove one’s valour. It takes courage to accept defeat. I have a boon from Bhagwan Parshuram himself that there will never be another warrior as valiant as me. My earrings and my armour protect me. Else, Draupadi’s words would have penetrated this chest of mine. I will not run scared of minor wounds. The ability to bear the insults is my destiny. Vasu, don’t cry … for me … for …’ Vrushali lifted her head to see that look at Karna had dozed off mid-sentence.

7

Winter had ended and spring had snuck up while no one watched. The earth was being dressed up in new clothes, and the biting cold had given way to a pleasant and refreshing morning breeze. Karna, having finished his morning prayers at the river, watched the change of seasons as he enjoyed the cool morning. As soon as he entered his palace, Vrushali announced the arrival of Chakradhar. Karna asked, ‘When did you arrive?’ ‘A little while ago.’ Karna guessed that Chakradhar wanted to say something. He asked, ‘Why don’t you tell what you want to say?’ ‘A Brahmin managed to pierce the eye of the fish after you left the hall. Draupadi married him.’ ‘What? A Brahmin?’ ‘That is the funny part. You seeing a group of Brahmins sitting next to the rishis in the front row? Well, the five of them were none other than the Pandavas.’ ‘What?’ Karna exclaimed, unable to believe Chakradhar. ‘The guard who accompanied Duryodhana to Hastinapur told me when he returned.’ ‘But Duryodhana said that they had perished in the fire at the lac palace.’ ‘That is what everyone had assumed, but it seems the Pandavas managed to escape. They were in disguise at the swayamvar.’ ‘Who managed to pierce the eye of the fish?’ ‘Who else but Arjuna?’ Chakradhar started laughing, much to Karna’s irritation. ‘Why are you laughing? She is lucky to marry a valiant and learned archer like Arjuna.’

‘It seems her luck is even mightier. Can she be satisfied with just one husband?’ Karna could barely control his anger. He shouted, ‘Chakradhar! Draupadi is a married woman, and it is improper to speak of her in such a demeaning manner. I will not tolerate it.’ ‘But she can. What can I do about it?’ ‘Chakradhar! Enough! I don’t want to hear another word. Don’t you have any shame?’ Instead of stopping, Chakradhar laughed even louder, tears in his eyes. Karna and Vrushali were more surprised than angry at Chakradhar’s reaction and looked at each other in confusion. ‘Let me explain …’ Chakradhar said, controlling his laughter. ‘Listen! This has never happened to anyone in history. After winning Draupadi’s hand in the swayamvar, when the Pandavas reached their ashram, they called out to their mother Kunti, “Look, what we have brought!” Kunti, busy with her chores, did not bother to look outside and said, “Please share amongst yourself.”’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes! Draupadi is now the wife of all the five Pandavas.’ ‘Draupadi now has five husbands?’ Karna exclaimed, a little saddened. ‘Look what happens when you insult valour. The five Pandavas have received Draupadi as alms.’ ‘All this talk about alms is nonsense. I am told the other four brothers were enamoured with her sensual beauty and Kunti, realizing that having her as Arjuna’s wife alone would be disastrous, ordered them to share her.’ ‘Whatever the talk may be, the fact is she is wife to all five of them now. Have the Pandavas returned to Hastinapur yet?’ ‘No. They are in Indraprastha now!’ ‘Indraprastha?’

‘The moment Maharaj Dhritarashtra heard of the Pandavas resurfacing at the swayamvar, he asked Vidur to meet them at Drupad’s palace and offered them half of Khandavprastha. The city which they built is now christened Indraprastha. The Pandavas, their mother and their wife Draupadi will now reside there.’ Karna let out a deep sigh. For some reason, his mind was in turmoil. He said, thinking of Duryodhana, ‘I wish I had been in Hastinapur when this had happened. I wonder why Duryodhana did not take me into confidence.’

8

Champanagri, under the able leadership of a large-hearted king like Karna, was a city of contented citizens. Karna devoted his time to protecting his people and ensuring their welfare but recently, he had been getting increasingly anxious after hearing some of the news from Hastinapur. The Pandavas had built Indraprastha and the palace called Mayasabha was the talk of all the kingdoms. Years ed and Karna’s anxiety only increased as he was hardly able to get any news or message from Duryodhana. It was in the midst of such confusion that Karna received a message that the Pandava army was marching on to his territory. Karna gathered his men and marched out of the city. The carriages moved out of the stables, the wheels rattling off the cobbled stone pathways. Soon the streets were crowded with cavalrymen as they marched out to reach the borders of the kingdom. The foot soldiers hurried to catch up as they rushed out of their homes, having bid a hasty farewell to their families. The mighty Pandava army was a sight to behold. The sprawling army, often called chaturanga like the four corners of a chessboard, reminded one of the spreading shadows of a large, dark cloud as it moved across the sky. Karna had never imagined that the Pandavas, having set up Indraprastha just a few years ago, would have amassed an such a huge army. Both the armies attacked each other fiercely as soon as they came within seeing distance of each other. The noise of the trumpeting elephants, the intermittent sound of the conch shells and the commands of the troop leaders filled the battlefield. Karna, standing in the forefront, was supervising the battle when his friend, and now his charioteer, Chakradhar pointed in a direction saying, ‘Karna, look!’ Karna turned to look in the direction Chakradhar was pointing in. A golden chariot emerged over the horizon, seeming like the mighty sun as it rose each morning. Karna recognized the lion symbol announcing it as Bheema’s. Bheema, standing behind his charioteer and swaying with the movement of the chariot, reminded Karna of an elephant in heat. Fair and glowing like molten gold with his huge arms bulging with muscles, he looked at Karna, appraising the enemy as he came nearer.

They both readied their bows at the same time and a vicious battle erupted. The battle ensued till dusk, both parties equally balanced. The conch shells announced sunset and the end of the battle for the day. Before moving towards his camp, Bheema looked at Karna disparagingly and mockingly said, ‘Radheya! Sutaputra, enjoy your rest tonight—it is going to be your last on this earth.’ Those were the very words that had hurt Karna at the archery competition. Bheema had changed with age but his attitude remained the same—unrestrained, conceited and short-tempered. Karna refused to give in the taunting and asked Chakradhar to turn the chariot away and return to Champanagri. As Karna reached the entrance of his palace, the servants rushed out with burning torches. As he dismounted, he was informed of the arrival of Ashwathama. The news of his dear friend’s arrival gave his disturbed mind a little rest and he rushed up the steps eagerly to meet him. ‘Brother, what is going on? Why am I being challenged into a battle when I have done nothing? Why are the Pandavas marching on me? And more importantly, why are the Kauravas silent?’ Karna asked the moment he saw Ashwathama. ‘I heard that you were engaged in battle.’ ‘Exactly! Why am I engaged in this war when I don’t know the reason or result for it?’ ‘Result?’ ‘Yes! Why would I fight against the Pandavas when they have been warmly received by Dhritarashtra Maharaj and have been given half the kingdom? Am I going to be felicitated if I defeat Bheema or chastised for it?’ ‘Let me clarify, Angaraj—if you were to defeat Bheema, you would not be the winner!’ ‘What?’ ‘I reached your kingdom a little late or we would have avoided the battle today. I

was asked by Bhishma Pitamah and Vidur to meet you.’ ‘What do they command?’ ‘That those who are aligned to the Kauravas should not oppose the Pandavas. They have marched in five directions after the rajsuya yagna, and that each king is advised to them and maintain cordial relations with the Pandavas.’ ‘What about Yuvraj Duryodhana?’ ‘He is not part of this.’ ‘What do you mean? Does he not agree?’ ‘I do not know.’ ‘Brother, don’t lie to me. You are as dear to me as Duryodhana is.’ Ashwathama was taken aback by Karna’s direct question but recovered quickly and said, ‘I do not know. All I know is that I must follow the orders given to me. I shall take your leave now.’ ‘At this hour?’ ‘Brother, there are many kings who need to be warned not to fight the Pandavas. I have very little time. Rest now.’ Karna went to see him off at the door. Turning at the doorstep, Aswathama said, ‘Friend, things are well in Hastinapur, but Yuvraj Duryodhana misses you and …’ ‘And what?’ ‘Adhirath and Radhai miss you immensely. Before coming here, I paid them a visit to see if they had a message for you.’ He paused before continuing, ‘They said they wished they could see you more often.’ ‘But …’ Karna could not continue as Aswathama interrupted him. ‘Do visit them with your family. They are eagerly waiting to see all of them.’

Ashwathama did not wait for Karna’s reaction. His chariot, lit with a few burning torches, it could be seen for a while before it was enveloped into the inky darkness. But the sound of the chariot wheels in the silence of the night reverberated for a long time after.

9

Much before dawn, Karna was ready in his armour. He directed his charioteer to move and his cavalry followed them. Soon, they reached the camp where numerous small fires indicated the troops preparing themselves for the day ahead. At a distance, the sprawling Pandava camp was visible. Karna waited for sunrise as he stood warming his hands at one of the camp fires. He watched with fascination as the flames from the fires leapt forward to grab his hand and scorch him. The moment the first rays of the sun emerged past the eastern horizon, the trumpets announced the beginning of the day. Soon, the clamour in the camps intensified as Karna’s army readied itself and they had assembled within minutes, waiting for a command from their master. Chakradhar stood in readiness, holding the reins. Karna, instead of climbing up, let out a deep sigh and looked in the direction of Bheema’s camp. The conch shells sounded again, but Chakradhar was surprised that Karna had not picked up his bow yet. Rather, he continued to look in the direction of the Pandava camp when the conch shells from the other camp sounded once more. Pulling himself out of his reverie and realizing that he needed to respond, Karna said, looking at Chakradhar, ‘We have to meet Bheema. Take me there.’ Karna’s chariot moved alone towards the Pandava camp, taking Bheema by surprise. Not to be attacked unawares, Bheema adjusted his bowstring in readiness. Within a few minutes, he was able to see Karna standing in the chariot but could not see his bow. ‘Hail, mighty Bheema! Angaraj Karna welcomes you.’ Bheema was taken aback. He had not expected the proud Karna to come unarmed into his camp. Not wanting to fall for a trap, he asked cautiously, ‘May I understand the purpose of your visit here?’ ‘I do not intend to be an obstacle for someone performing a noble deed like the rajsuya yagna.’ ‘It would have been better if you had realized this yesterday, Angaraj! Or does the thought of defeat scare you?’

‘Not at all,’ Karna said, reining in his anger. ‘I thought you had come here to invite me to the yagna.’ ‘Those who are willing to accept the superiority of the Pandavas are invited for the yagna as guests and those who refuse then have to face the ignominy of a defeat and are then commanded! It is for you to choose—do you wish to be invited or be commanded to attend?’ ‘It would be my good fortune to you in your endeavour and provide whatever help you need.’ ‘Oh, you accept defeat then?’ ‘If that makes you happy, you may consider it so. Please, grace my capital Champanagri.’ Getting off his chariot, Karna walked towards Bheema’s chariot and asked the charioteer to move. A surprised Bheema asked, ‘Are you going to drive the chariot, Angaraj?’ Karna answered, without turning back, ‘I am honoured that you are visiting my capital, and it is my duty to lead your chariot. Please sit back and relax!’ The two armies followed Bheema’s chariot and soon, a rising cloud of dust announced the arrival of the royal visitor into Champanagri. They stopped at the entrance of the moat for a brief moment as the drawbridge was lowered to allow the royal visitors inside. The sight of the beautiful city, its landscaped gardens, palaces, lakes and reservoirs were a pleasant surprise for Bheema, but he was disappointed that none of the citizens had bothered to welcome them. The lack of a warm reception irked him as he asked, ‘Your city is lovely, but it seems the citizens do not appreciate its beauty. I don’t see a single happy face here.’ Karna smiled ironically and said, ‘It is not easy for the common man to accept defeat gracefully.’ Bheema raised his eyebrows questioningly saying, ‘I agree! Only the shameless can accept defeat easily. Where can you find your strength amongst these

ordinary folks!’ Bheema, holding the pillars of the chariot, laughed out loud. Karna, ignoring the derisive laughter, flicked the whip across the backs of the horses, spurring them faster.

Sitting on a seat made especially for him, Bheema observed Karna’s lavishly decorated palace while the servants hovered around with pitchers full of the finest of wines. Ignoring them, he continued to look around the well-appointed room and said, ‘I like your palace. I was not aware that you lived in such luxury.’ ‘It is god’s grace that our kingdom is blessed with such wealth.’ ‘I am sure you would continue to enjoy it—with our grace! Did you build this palace?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Had it not been for your abilities, it is I who would have ruled this place.’ ‘I do not understand, Maharaj.’ ‘You defeated Jarasandha in the wrestling match, didn’t you? It was he who gifted the city to you, isn’t it?’ ‘That is right.’ ‘I have continued this mission here after having defeated and killed your friend Jarasandha.’ ‘Jarasandha killed? I did not know …’ ‘I accepted his challenge to a duel, a wrestling match, and I killed him.’ Karna was pained on hearing about the death of his friend. He recalled how Jarasandha had warmly embraced him at Draupadi’s swayamvar. ‘What happened? You seem to be lost in thought?’ Bheema asked, knowing all too well that Karna was agonized hearing about Jarasandha’s death. ‘No one can win against old age.’ Bheema laughed, his voice resonating across the large hall. ‘Angaraj, he was quite old even when you accepted his challenge!’

‘Aware of his limitations, I did not pursue the duel beyond a point. There are two things a man believes in: the inability to accept old age gracefully and the belief that death will not come soon. But the bitter truth is that no victory can overcome death. One has to finally leave everything here. Death is the ultimate equalizer. But do we acknowledge such a simple fact?’ The thought of death sent an involuntary shiver down Bheema’s spine. His smile faded and he said a little peevishly. ‘I have not come here to hear your thoughts on death and life. The ashrams are doing their tasks well in this regard. Now, let us move to business …’ ‘All has been taken care of.’ On cue, a servant stepped forward with a few trays. Bheema could not stop staring as the servant uncovered the trays filled with precious gems and jewellery. Bheema was dumbstruck seeing the wealth placed before him. Karna said, ‘My lord, if this is not enough, we shall be happy to present you more.’ ‘No, this is fine. I shall take your leave now. Please accept the invitation for the rajsuya yagna on behalf of my brothers.’ ‘Shall I consider it an invitation or a command?’ Bheema did not know how to respond. He looked at Karna to find him unruffled and watching him with a studied eye. It was impossible for Bheema to hold his gaze. He said, ‘I am making a request, of course.’ ‘My apologies for not asking earlier,’ Karna said, ‘but it is nearly lunchtime. May I request you to partake—’ Karna was unable to complete his sentence as he heard Bheema’s say, ‘Kshatriyas do not dine in the houses of those who have surrendered.’

10

Bheema had not only taken Karna’s offerings but also his peace of mind. The unnecessary barbs from Bheema had pierced his heart, his torment increasing as the day dragged along. As he prepared to go to the river for his prayers the next morning, after ordering his chariot to be kept ready, Vrushali asked, ‘There is still time, right?’ ‘Well, it depends on how you look at it, Vasu. But it depends on time for what, Vasu. I have only one resort to soothe my battered soul—to offer my prayers to the sun god. I hope the Lord relieves me of my burdens.’ Vrushali knew it was wise to keep quiet. As Karna’s chariot moved across Champanagri, he noticed small crowds in front of some of the houses. Once in a while, a heartrending wail would escape from one of the houses. The silence of the town pierced by the tormented wail of a widow was unsettling, and Karna asked his charioteer to move faster. The chariot raced through the streets and stopped where he usually halted on the wooded banks of the river. The river bank, spread wide and shining in the hot sun, was devoid of anyone’s presence. The sun was above the horizon now. Karna took off his sandals and kept his dry clothes and angavastram in a corner before stepping into the cool waters of the river. The cold touch of the water was comforting. With a sudden splash, he dove into the river, and for a brief moment, a sharp, shooting cold shiver ran through his body. Karna swam for a while, enjoying the cool water. Coming closer to the bank, he stood in waist-deep waters and began his prayers, his hands raised in obeisance to the sun god. Within moments, he was lost in deep contemplation. By the time Karna finished his prayers, the sun was high up in the sky. His hair, flying about his neck, was nearly dry. His body had dried off long back. As always, Karna, taking water in his palms asked loudly, ‘Is there anyone in need here?’ There was no response, and as was his habit, he repeated the question, ‘Is there anyone in need here?’ ‘Yes, there is,’ a soft voice answered.

A slight smile flickered across Karna’s face. He asked, without turning back, ‘You may ask for anything other than my masculinity and my religion. I am bound by my promise to fulfil your need.’ Karna released the water from his palms and turned to look at the beneficiary of his promise. A lady wearing a simple black sari stood there. The edge of her sari blocked her face, and Karna was not able to see who she was. He asked, ‘Mother, please tell me what you need. It would be an honour and a pleasure to fulfil it.’ There was no response from the lady as she stood without moving. Karna, realizing that she may be hesitating, said, ‘Please do not hesitate, Mother! No one has needed to doubt my ability to fulfil their need. Please state your desire.’ ‘I want my son back.’ The words which came out of her mouth were dry, without any emotion. ‘Son? I do not understand, Mother,’ Karna said. ‘Yesterday, my son sacrificeed his life unnecessarily on the battlefield. He was my only child. I need him back.’ ‘Mother!’ ‘I have heard a lot of your generosity. It is generally thought that no one goes back with a wish unfulfilled.’ ‘But there are limitations to what you can ask for. If you ask for the darkness of the night or the sunlight, it is beyond us ordinary humans. Similarly, life and death are not in any mortal’s hands.’ ‘Isn’t reason more important? My son died because of you.’ ‘Me?’ Karna exclaimed. ‘I beg your pardon, Rajan, but a grieving mother cannot afford to follow protocol.’ ‘Mother, speak your mind. No matter how bitter the truth may be, I will accept

it.’ ‘It is a fact that my son died on the battlefield.’ ‘Who can decide what happens on the battlefield?’ ‘I know, and the soldier going into battle is aware of it too. But what about a battle which was unnecessary to start with?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Rajan, were you not the one who ordered the men into a battle which, right from the start, was meaningless? What was the point in engaging the men in such a battle? Were you fulfilling your own ego?’ The words were brutal in their intensity—much more than the burning rays of the morning sun. ‘I cannot be blamed for the outcome!’ ‘Can you blame my son either? Well, maybe it was his fault. He was a loyal soldier who never questioned his commander and went into the battlefield when ordered to. It was probably his fault. You sacrificed your men and also gave your wealth to the enemy to protect yourself from further damage …’ Seeing her falter, Karna urged her, ‘Please speak your mind. Don’t hold back anything.’ ‘I have nothing else to say. I want my son back.’ ‘Mother, can anyone have the power to bring back lost dreams? In the same way, peace of mind once lost, or a life whose flame has been snuffed out, can never be recovered. They are beyond anyone’s power.’ ‘That is not my concern. It is for the giver to decide what is within his control. The one who went to the battlefield on command did not question the outcome, did he?’ Listening to her question, Karna suddenly realized that he had found a solution. He said, his voice firm, ‘You shall get your son back, Mother. Imagine that the

one who lost his life on the battlefield was Karna. Your son is standing here now!’ ‘You cannot fool a mother with pretty words.’ ‘I am not trying to fool you. Give me a couple of days. I will find someone else to ascend the throne, and this Karna will come to your house—as your son. I shall make every effort to give you whatever happiness your son would have given you. Don’t harbour even an iota of doubt about that. I vow to …’ Hearing Karna’s words, the lady shivered like a reed fluttering in strong winds. Her resolve had been broken and she screamed, ‘Rajan, no! Don’t make such a promise! I can manage to live without my son, but this kingdom will not be able to find another king like you.’ She started crying and tears rolled down her cheeks. Karna’s heart was rent asunder as he listened to her crying. Walking silently, he came near her and lifted her chin gently. He was shocked when he saw her face —it was Avanti, Chakradhar’s wife! ‘Avanti! You! Your Kaustubh …’ ‘I have lost my Kaustubh … he is gone … forever!’ Avanti could not continue as sobs racked her body and she crumpled on to the sand. Karna gently helped her up, but he had nothing but tears to offer as comfort. He managed to make her sit in his chariot and after dropping her home, he turned his chariot towards the palace. As Karna climbed the steps to his palace, he could hear someone laughing— he stopped in his tracks. At that moment, he saw Chakradhar laughing while Vrishasena chased him. They were playing a game with Vrishasena chasing him with a bow and arrow. Vrishasena made an elaborate act of releasing an arrow and Chakradhar, laughing all the way, fell down on the floor shouting, ‘I am dead!’ ‘Wah!’ Vrishasena said. ‘You cannot die with just one arrow.’ Chakradhar said, ‘Yuvraj, you may be hit with a million arrows, but it is only one that is fatal—the one which pierces your heart.’

At that moment, Vrushali came in, irritated at their childish games. ‘What is this, Brother? You too are participating in his pranks?’ Chakradhar got up hurriedly, embarrassed at being berated by his master’s wife, and he saw Karna at the doorstep. Karna rushed in, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes. They threatened to flow down his cheeks when he whispered, ‘My friend!’ Chakradhar, taking a few steps back, said, ‘The arrow pierced clean through his body, you know. Oh!’ he said, changing the topic, ‘I almost forgot! Your chariot and men are ready to leave for Hastinapur. They are waiting for your command.’ Chakradhar had left before Karna could say anything. Vrushali, seeing Karna dab his eyes, asked, ‘What happened?’ ‘Vasu! Chakradhar’s Kaustubh—he died on the battlefield …’ He hugged Vrishasena tightly to his chest and his tears flowed freely.

11

Vrishasena’s joy knew no bounds the moment Hastinapur was came into sight. The beautiful city of Hastinapur stood on the banks of the Ganga, reminding one of a newly bloomed white lotus. Its tall, piercing domes, huge palaces and other grand mansions gave the city a magnificent look. Vrishasena said, ‘Father, what fun it would be to stay in such a city!’ ‘No doubt!’ Karna was lost in his own world and said, ‘Your grandfather, grandmother and your brothers Shatrunjay and Vrishaketu must all be waiting for you. I can imagine your uncle Dhrum on the rooftop scanning the streets to spot us. He will be eager to take you to the royal palace.’ ‘Royal palace?’ ‘That’s right! Your uncle works for Duryodhana Maharaj, you know.’ Karna’s eagerness to meet Radhai and Adhirath increased as they neared the gates. The guards at the entrance of the city saluted as Karna’s chariot entered. Soon, they stopped outside Adhirath’s house. Vrishaketu ran out to see who the visitors were and when he saw Karna, he ran back to inform others. There was a flurry of activity in the household as the guests were announced. Karna, Vrishasena and Vrushali entered the large courtyard to be received by Shatrunjay and Vrishaketu, who bent down to touch Karna’s feet. Karna did not allow Dhrum to follow suit and hugged him instead. Karna’s eyes searched for Radhai and the moment he saw her, he rushed to touch her feet. ‘It’s good that all of you have come. I have been longing to …’ she said. Radhai, bent with age, looked at Karna and continued, ‘You have grown so tall. Bend a little.’ Karna obliged and Radhai cracked her knuckles after circling her palms around his face. It was her way of warding off the evil eye. Karna smiled and hugged her. ‘Mother, everyone is laughing at you.’ ‘Let them! What do they know of a mother’s love and fears?’ ‘But brother is a grown man now,’ Dhrum said.

‘You be quiet! For a mother, a child never grows up.’ Radhai looked at Vrishasena watching the friendly jibes curiously and hugged him affectionately. The household was brimming with laughter. But Karna’s mind was elsewhere. He said, getting up, ‘Where’s Father?’ ‘He must be busy in his workshop with his chariots.’ ‘I will go and meet him.’

Adhirath’s workshop was anything but simple. The door led to a large courtyard with the stables on one side, and there was a large, covered shed at the far end. A few chariots seemed to be in various stages of repair and under construction here. The workshop, normally bustling with hundreds of workers, was silent today. It looked like a rishi’s ashram. Karna moved quickly towards the centre where a large chariot was being readied. A man sat near a wooden wheel spinning on a fulcrum, his long white hair coming down to his shoulders. He wore a simple white upper garment. The old man, immersed in his task, did not realize that Karna was watching him. ‘Father!’ ‘Hmm?’ the old man said, turning his head, a little surprised. Seeing Karna, his face lit up. The moment Karna bent to touch his feet, he patted his back affectionately, asking, ‘When did you arrive?’ ‘Just a little while ago.’ Adhirath turned to a worker and said, ‘Fix the wheel to the chariot.’ Karna looked at the chariot with awe—it was magnificent. He asked, ‘Who is it for?’ ‘Duryodhana Maharaj is planning to attend the rajsuya yagna. I have had it made especially for the occasion.’ ‘It is exquisite!’ ‘I now have the time to make things as I want. Yes, it has turned out really well.’ ‘It seems there is not much work here these days!’ ‘We make chariots which last a lifetime! Vidur Maharaj has been kind enough to allow the old craftsmen here to keep making chariots. Else, there isn’t much to do.’ ‘You had brought hundreds of men here from Champanagri, Father. Where are they?’

‘They have moved to Indraprastha now; the new capital city! Bhishmacharya sent all of them to work for the Pandavas. They are all gainfully employed in setting up the new city.’ ‘Are you saying Indraprastha is that large?’ ‘Hastinapur pales in comparison! I had personally gone there to get the work started. You would be astounded seeing their mayasabha; even the gods would be jealous!’ ‘Why do they need so many men working there?’ ‘A large number of havelis, palaces, gopurs have been built in addition to the sabhagriha for the mayasabha. It calls for a lot of woodwork. How does one bring the deodar and teak logs to the city? Even the soldiers are employed as labourers. Karna, the cities of Hastinapur and Indraprastha are like the sun and moon now, twin cities on earth.’ The wheel was fixed to the chariot now and two large horses were harnessed to it for Adhirath to examine his creation. Adhirath, looking at Karna, said, ‘Come, let me examine the chariot and then we will go home.’ Karna stepped into the chariot with Adhirath holding the reins. As soon as the chariot rolled out of the courtyard, Adhirath said, ‘Karna, get down now.’ ‘Why, Father?’ ‘Karna, this has been especially made for the Yuvraj. It has to the most rigorous of tests, and I cannot allow anyone else to ride it while I test. It is too dangerous.’ ‘What kind of test are you talking of?’ ‘The wheels have to be perfectly aligned and to check, I take out the pins holding the wheels to the axle. If the wheels are steady and hold on even at high speeds, I know the chariot is ready to be handed over.’ Karna alighted and Adhirath, closing his eyes for a brief moment, prayed before giving the orders to remove the pins.

Karna watched with bated breath as the crack of the whip spurred the horses into action. Within moments, the chariot picked up speed, and it disappeared into the cloud of dust it kicked up. After a while, he could hear the chariot return and saw the horses foaming at the mouth as they pulled the chariot back at full speed. Adhirath alighted and said, a satisfied smile on his lips, ‘It is ready.’ ‘Does anyone drive a chariot the way you do?’ Adhirath laughed. ‘No! It is my way of testing, that’s all!’

12

The next morning, Karna sat chatting with his mother when Dhrum rushed in to announce Duryodhana’s arrival. Duryodhana came in before Karna could get up and folded his hands on seeing Radhai. She said, a little embarrassed, ‘Ayushmaan bhava!’ Karna welcomed his friend, extending his hand. ‘Yuvraj!’ Duryodhana said in mock anger, ‘I don’t want to talk to you!’ Karna smiled. He knew his friend was teasing him. ‘It would seem my friend has come all the way to tell me that!’ Duryodhana glared at Karna for a moment, and then they both burst out laughing. After hugging him, Duryodhana said, ‘You came in last evening, but you haven’t called on me yet.’ ‘I was meeting Radhai after a long time and …’ ‘No, I understand! Now, come on, I want you to visit my palace.’ ‘As you command.’

Duryodhana’s marble and red sandstone palace was a sight to behold. Climbing up the wide steps, they reached a large courtyard. After crossing a few large halls, they entered the private quarters of the palace and then into the main hall where Dhritarashtra Maharaj sat on a high throne wearing a crown. He was dressed in his regal finery and his eyes, despite being closed, looked as if they might open any moment. Two handmaidens, holding huge peacock feather fans, stood behind him. Vidur sat to the right of the king on a smaller throne made of sandalwood. Vidur looked at Duryodhana as he entered the hall and glanced at Bhishma, who sat to the left of the Maharaj. Bhishma Pitamah reminded Karna of the mighty Himalayas. His hair flowed down to his waist while his bushy white eyebrows arched over his bright, piercing eyes. He was truly someone who had earned his reputation not just because of his age but through tapasya. He looked at Duryodhana and said, turning to Dhritarashtra, ‘Rajan, Yuvraj Duryodhana has arrived.’ Duryodhana bent in salutation as Bhishma said, ‘Rajan, they are bowing to you.’ ‘May you be ever victorious!’ Karna followed suit and announced, ‘This sutaputra, the son of a charioteer, Karna, salutes you.’ A slight smile flickered across Dhritarashtra’s face. ‘Angaraj, when did you arrive?’ ‘Last evening, Maharaj.’ Suddenly, there was the sound of someone walking on wooden khadau sandals in the hall, and everyone turned to see Guru Dronacharya walking in. He was a tall, heavily built man, his fair skin tanned from hours of standing in the sun while training the princes in the art of war. His white hair complemented his long white beard which flowed down to his chest.

Vidur said, for the benefit of the blind Dhritarashtra, ‘It is Dronacharya.’ Dhritarashtra said, ‘Vidur, please provide a deer skin for him to sit.’ Vidur did not have to get up as the servants had already laid out one for the guru. Raising his hand in blessing to Duryodhana and Karna’s salutations, he said, looking at Dhritarashtra, ‘Rajan, I have seen a place appropriate for the ashram. The moment Bhishma Maharaj has a look, I will begin to build it.’ ‘There is no need for me to see it,’ Bhishma said. ‘If you are satisfied, I am quite sure it would be appropriate.’ Dhritarashtra Maharaj nodded in agreement. Guru Drona said, ‘Rajan, I am sure this city will be a gyanpeeth, a centre of learning, in a few years. There is nothing more powerful than pure knowledge. I shall begin the work the moment the yagna is over.’ ‘Isn’t there time for the yagna yet?’ ‘Hardly! Yuvraj Nakul has personally come to invite us and he has repeatedly requested myself, Vidur and Bhishma to be present there at the earliest.’ Realizing that Dronacharya was stressing on them leaving urgently, Dhritarashtra said,‘But of course! You must proceed immediately. When do you plan to go?’ ‘Tomorrow.’ Duryodhana looked at Karna, and they both stepped out of the hall and went to Duryodhana’s private quarters. His wife Bhanumati received Karna with affection there. ‘When did you arrive?’ ‘Only yesterday. But once I realized that my friend has been kidnapped, I had to come searching for him.’ ‘Kidnapped?’ ‘Ever since he married you, I have barely seen him! What else should I think?’

After some friendly banter, Bhanumati went to her own quarters, leaving the two of them alone. It was evident that Duryodhana was ill at ease. ‘Friend, what is bothering you?’ Karna asked. Duryodhana smiled sarcastically. ‘Did you see the way I was welcomed by my father? These days, I hardly meet or speak with him.’ ‘Why is that?’ ‘Well, there have been lot of mishaps, you know. I was blamed for the death of the Pandavas when their palace burnt down. But I won’t deny that I did organize the whole thing. You should have seen the way Pitamah Bhishma, Mahatma Vidur and Dronacharya cried their hearts out on hearing of their deaths. You should have been with me, my friend!’ ‘It was lucky the Pandavas survived the blaze. I was happy to know that they were alive.’ ‘Happy? Are you my friend or theirs?’ ‘Yuvraj, had they died in that fire, I would have been scared, and scarred, to sleep at night. It is better to defeat an enemy with valour than through deceit.’ ‘Look at who is ruling Hastinapur today—the great Bhishmacharya, the lawabiding Vidur and the fountain of knowledge Dronacharya. And now we are going to convert this city into a gyanpeeth, a knowledge city! What else do we need?’ Duryodhana laughed cynically. ‘Do you know that they have released all the animals like tigers and lions from the zoo?’ ‘No, why?’ ‘A lot of animals were being sacrificed to feed the lions and tigers in the zoo. Now Vidur has made a rule that hunting cannot be for fun. The whole animal kingdom is quite happy, you see!’ ‘What about you? How do you feel?’ ‘I am supposed to be heir but what can I do? I dream of making Hastinapur a city known for its valiant soldiers and resplendent in its wealth and fame. But I

am all alone in this desire.’ Karna’s heart reached out to his friend seeing him in such despair. He had never seen Duryodhana so heartbroken. He said, ‘Friend, don’t lose heart. I have an idea.’ ‘Yes?’ ‘You need to befriend Krishna—get him on your side.’ Duryodhana gave a cheerless smile. ‘That won’t work. He is committed to the Pandavas. After all, Rajmata Kunti is his aunt, and his sister Subhadra is married to Arjuna. His vast army is now helping the Pandavas as well.’ ‘All right, let us think of another way.’ ‘Friend, I hope you are with me,’ Duryodhana asked, tears gathering in his eyes. ‘Nothing is more important to me than this friendship. As long as Karna is alive, never fear that you are alone. I am always with you!’ ‘Do I have your word?’ ‘The promises of a gentleman, a warrior and a tapasvi are etched in stone. They will never be broken.’ Duryodhana hugged Karna affectionately. Karna, as he took left, asked Duryodhana, ‘Do you really want me to come along for the yagna?’ ‘Why do you ask?’ ‘I don’t feel like going.’ ‘Do you think I want to? But we must go! Your absence will be noticed and will be a reason for gossip. Why invite trouble unnecessarily?’ ‘As you command.’ ‘We will leave tomorrow.’

Karna left Duryodhana’s palace, feeling restless.

13

The forest of Khandava or Khandavprastha was a favourite hunting ground for the Kauravas. It was a dense jungle with a wide variety of wild animals. The city of Indraprastha, built by the Pandavas on the western banks of the River Yamuna and near this dense forest, was a sight to behold with its palaces and temples with tall spires reaching out to the sky. A hundred elephants greeted them as they entered through the gates of the city. The famed palace, white as a marble stone, was the centre of attraction for visitors. Royal guests stayed in specially built havelis, while their servants and others had been accommodated in guest houses. Dancers, musicians and artists of all kinds were ready to enthral the visitors. The sacrificial fire pit, the yagnavedi, had been created by expert artisans. The whole atmosphere, with musicians playing religious hymns, was that of piety. Yudhishthira had ensured that all preparations were in place. Guru Dronacharya led the main yagna, while Dushasana was in charge of the kitchen. Ashwathama and Sanjaya welcomed guests and Brahmins. The task of distributing alms to those in attendance was given to Guru Kripacharya. Vidur kept track of the huge expenses incurred towards the ceremony. Duryodhana was responsible for collecting the contributions made by the royals. The air echoed with the chanting of mantras as more than a hundred Brahmins sat together pouring ghee and other offerings into the sacrificial fire, the smoke from which rose in huge spirals into the sky. At the end of the yagna, the great honour of agrapooja, the main offering, was given to Krishna. Anyone performing the same was thus automatically considered the most deserving and senior most amongst those present. Shishupala was unable to tolerate his arch-enemy being felicitated when, according to him, there were many other elders and accomplished souls who were more deserving of the privilege. He believed Krishna did not deserve the honour, and heaped insult upon insult on Krishna while those in the assembly watched in silent consternation. For a long time, Krishna remained calm and patient, but when Shishupala refused to stop, Krishna had to use his famed Sudarshana Chakra and behead Shishupala. As his headless body fell down with a thud, it sent shivers down the spines of those present.

The last day of the yagna ended with a grand feast. Guests were being served in a large dining hall, and Karna sat next to Vidur while Krishna walked around ensuring that guests were well fed. Draupadi ed those serving the guests as she walked slowly urging each of them to enjoy the meal. Vidur remarked, looking at Karna, ‘Radheya, it was truly a lovely yagna! Have you ever seen something so awe-inspiring?’ ‘I was lucky to have the thanks to Duryodhana’s insistence on my attendance.’ ‘Yes, no doubt!’ Karna noticed a pair of lovely feet near his plate and he looked up to see Draupadi standing near him. Their eyes met for a brief moment. Karna saw her holding a tray. Her sari had slipped off her shoulders exposing a part of her bodice as she bent to serve guests. Karna, embarrassed at the sight, looked down as he heard her say, ‘A beggar should know better than look in the eye of his benefactor.’ It was hard for Karna to tolerate this insult, and he looked up to find Draupadi walking away. At that exact moment, Krishna arrived. He had heard what Draupadi had said, and consternation was writ large on his face. He walked hurriedly to catch up with Draupadi, who was about to exit the hall. He called, ‘Draupadi, wait!’ Turning back, she saw Krishna walking towards her and she smiled. ‘Did you call me, Madhusudan?’ ‘Yes,’ Krishna said, looking around to ensure that no one was around. ‘Why did you insult Karna without any provocation?’ ‘How dare he look at me!’ ‘It is not his fault that your sari slipped down. Don’t you care for the courtesies required to be extended to our guests?’ ‘Krishna, I don’t know why, but I get mighty upset seeing him.’ Krishna laughed harshly and said, ‘You may not know; let me tell you though.

You, in your arrogance about your looks and false prestige attached to family status, made a mistake once. Why are you punishing him for it now? Does it still hurt you that he is not your rightfully wedded husband?’ ‘Keshav!’ Draupadi screamed, but Krishna had left even before the sound emerged. The guests had finished their meals and were about to leave when Krishna called Karna. Karna turned to see a smiling Krishna. ‘I hope you would stay back for a while.’ ‘Sadly, I have to leave now. Yuvraj Duryodhana and Shakuni Maharaj will stay back.’ ‘I hope you enjoyed your meal.’ ‘Absolutely! I am most content. But however tasty the food may be, your hands do get dirty. I need to wash them now.’ A concerned look came into Krishna’s eyes as he saw Karna walk away adjusting his angavastram on his shoulder with his left hand.

14

Duryodhana paced his room impatiently waiting for Karna as his uncle Shakuni reclined on a large chair watching him. Duryodhana had sent for Karna the moment he had returned from Indraprastha. Hearing the sound of chariot wheels, he rushed to the window to see Karna at the gates. ‘Mama-ji, he is here.’ ‘He had to be. Who can refuse your orders?’ Karna, on entering the quarters, asked, ‘What is wrong, Yuvraj?’ Duryodhana gestured to him to sit. As he sat, Karna bowed respectfully to Shakuni who said, ‘You were lucky, Karna, that you left early. We had to suffer at the mayasabha.’ ‘What happened?’ ‘It is a palace of illusions. You would see a watery floor and would walk carefully only to realize that it was just a special marble on the floor. Assuming another hall would have the same floor, one would walk casually to fall down with a splash. A transparent wall would make one crash into it, and another one would look like a wall but would turn out to be a door! I tell you, Karna, the mayasabha is fantastic!’ ‘One need not have to go there to experience illusions, Mama-ji. Life itself is a mayasabha. Searching for affection, one finds nothing but bitterness and a dear friend turns out to be a foe when needed most. All one gets after a penance is a curse rather than a boon. When life is an illusion at each step, where is the need for another mayasabha?’ Shakuni laughed and said, ‘Your friends suffered a lot; they slipped and fell and crashed into walls thinking there was a door there!’ ‘Mama-ji!’ Duryodhana erupted, unable to bear it any longer. ‘Well, the Pandavas certainly had a good laugh at our expense.’ Vikarna’s arrival prevented Duryodhana from reacting further. Vikarna said,

looking at his elder brother, ‘Brother, Father has summoned you.’ ‘Really? I just met him just an hour ago.’ ‘He sent me to ask you to come immediately.’ ‘Who else is with him?’ ‘Pitamah, Acharya and Vidur.’ Duryodhana said scornfully, ‘Well, no one else needs to be there! Anyway, you carry on. I will be there soon.’ Shakuni said, ‘Don’t be so sarcastic, Duryodhana. You know how much your father loves you.’ ‘That was in the past, Mama-ji, and not any longer. Why don’t you come along and see for yourself?’ Shakuni excused himself saying, ‘I would love to, but this travel has taken a toll on me. I would like to rest for a while.’ Turning to Karna, Duryodhana asked, ‘Will you come with me?’ ‘As you command,’ Karna said. Duryodhana was silent for a moment and then, taking a large necklace out of a wooden box, moved towards the royal quarters. It was evening, and the servants were busy lighting the lamps.

15

The royal palace was lit with the brightness of many lamps. Vidur stood near Dhritarashtra Maharaj’s throne while Bhishmacharya sat beside him. Dronacharya, as usual, sat on a deer skin. A number of maids stood on the sides, alert for any command. Seeing Duryodhana and Karna enter together, Dronacharya said, ‘Here they come! Their friendship, no doubt, is really deep.’ A smile lit up Duryodhana’s face hearing a word of praise from Dronacharya. He was also pleasantly surprised to see Bhishma, Vidur and Drona smiling. Of late, they always frowned on seeing him. Dhritarashtra asked, after the usual greetings, ‘Duryodhana, this blind father of yours may be angry but your presence makes me feel happy. I have not heard from you for many days, and the moment I found out that you are home, I summoned you.’ ‘I am happy, Father, that you consider me worthy of an audience.’ ‘Come off it! I hope your journey was fine. Did you enjoy the yagna?’ ‘It was an unbelievable sight with hundreds of intellectuals participating in the event, and the air reverberating with mantras being recited by hundreds of Brahmins, not to mention the hordes of kings and princes eager to mark their attendance.’ ‘I agree with Yuvraj,’ Dronacharya concurred. ‘It was as if the very earth was being made sacrosanct with such a virtuous act.’ ‘Thank god! I am relieved to know that this short-tempered son of mine enjoyed the whole event,’ Dhritarashtra said. Addressing Duryodhana he said, ‘You are suspicious by nature and I was worried that you may not like the whole affair. I hope there was no shortage of anything.’ ‘As a matter of fact, there was!’ Bhishma, Vidur and Drona turned to him, surprise on their faces. Duryodhana smiled knowing the effect his words had had. ‘We were the ones

found wanting. After all, the yagna, though being conducted in the name of the Pandavas, was being managed by us. Vidur was managing the s while Pitamah and Acharya were carrying out the main activities of the yagna itself. Dushasana handled the kitchen and Kripacharya looked after the alms.’ ‘What about you?’ ‘Me? I was tired of receiving contributions from the visitors.’ Dhritarashtra asked, turning towards Karna. ‘What task were you responsible for?’ ‘I had no work, Maharaj. I enjoyed myself the most.’ ‘Maharaj,’ Dronacharya explained. ‘He wasn’t invited as a friend of the Kauravas, but in his position as Angaraj.’ Vidur, feeling relieved that Duryodhana had accepted the yagna whole-heartedly, said, ‘I am happy to see that there is no ill feeling between the Pandavas and the Kauravas.’ Duryodhana stepped forward and placed the necklace of pearls in the lap of his father saying, ‘Maharaj, Yudhishthira has sent this for you.’ Dhritarashtra fingered the necklace gingerly and exclaimed, ‘Feels like a beautiful chain of pearls.’ ‘Yes, it is made of rare blue pearls.’ ‘He need not have taken the trouble. I know the love and affection he has for me.’ ‘Father, I too wish to perform a rajsuya yagna soon.’ Dronacharya laughed out loud, much to Duryodhana’s chagrin. He turned around to see him laughing as he slapped his hand on his thighs. ‘Did I say something funny?’ ‘You cannot perform the yagna, Yuvraj.’

‘Why not?’ ‘It is performed to establish one’s supremacy amongst others. Your father is still on the throne. If you perform the yagna, it would tantamount to challenging his position.’ ‘Perhaps I can perform another equally grand yagna.’ ‘Of course,’ Bhishma interjected. ‘But I would suggest you wait. All the kings have stretched themselves to donate huge sums for this yagna. We don’t want to burden them anymore.’ Duryodhana smiled wryly. ‘What exactly did you say is the purpose of a rajsuya yagna?’ ‘To claim the right to the throne.’ ‘Does it not surprise you that the Pandavas have performed this? How many emperors can there be?’ ‘One!’ ‘Then, pray tell me, who is Dhritarashtra Maharaj? One of the kings under the Pandavas?’ ‘Yuvraj!’ ‘I only want answers to my questions, Acharya. Don’t get upset.’ Dronacharya was at a loss for words. He could not extricate himself out of the situation and mumbled, ‘You are mistaken, Yuvraj. Dhritarashtra Maharaj gave half of Khandavprastha to the Pandavas. Hence, they performed the yagna to establish their supremacy there.’ ‘And they extricated their tax by attacking the kings loyal to us, didn’t they?’ ‘It was a donation they received for performing the yagna,’ Vidur tried clarifying. ‘Uncle, sometimes injustice can hide behind the veil of principles and values and

make one do the wrong things.’ ‘What are you alluding to, Yuvraj?’ Dhritarashtra asked. ‘Father, please bear with me,’ Duryodhana said, silencing Dhritarashtra. Looking at Vidur once and then pointing at Karna, he asked, ‘Uncle, why did Bheema march on Angaraj? Did he not know that he was a dear friend of mine and a staunch er of the Kauravas?’ ‘We had issued instructions that no one should stop the Pandavas, and that they should wholeheartedly the yagna.’ Duryodhana said, interrupting Dronacharya, ‘Acharya, I think the message was sent quite late. By then, the Pandavas had been emboldened by the of Krishna’s vast army. A few kings, who, in their loyalty to the Kauravas, dared challenge the Pandavas, and they had to face the ignominy of defeat when they realized the true reason for the attack. Not only were they forced to cough up a donation, but they were ordered to attend the yagna. It has created a lot of bad blood. We cannot hold a rajsuya yagna ever again.’ Bhishmachayra, unable to tolerate these accusations, got up angrily and said, ‘Enough! The Kauravas don’t need to prove their supremacy. This kingdom is self-manifested, a swayambhoo, and the world knows that!’ ‘So we are that great, are we?’ Duryodhana mocked. ‘Pitamah, I may be born to a blind man, but I can see. And I have the wisdom to absorb what I see around me.’ ‘Yuvraj!’ Dhritarashtra exclaimed, upset at how Duryodhana was taunting Bhishma. ‘Please pardon me, Father! I would like to you ask Pitamah: Where was the Kaurava pride when the Pandavas accorded Krishna the honour of agrapooja in the yagna? Did they forget that the Kuru dynasty’s yuvraj was present too?’ ‘The honour is not based on who is the strongest—it has to be earned. It is given to he who is considered the wisest,’ Dronacharya said. ‘And that according to you is Krishna? Acharya, I need not remind you that amongst those present were Krishna’s father, Kripacharya and Bhishma Pitamah,

to say nothing of other deserving men. But you did not even think of them. Krishna is neither a priest, a guru or even a king! Yet he was given the highest honour?’ ‘Duryodhana, you do not know his greatness. He is endowed with godly qualities—he is, in fact, an incarnation of the lord himself,’ Dronacharya said. Duryodhana’s laughter echoed across the huge hall. ‘Acharya, you seem to have had the privilege of seeing him in that avatar. Or perhaps it is your intuition which tells you he is the lord? How long have you and Pitamah known of it? Was it when he killed Shishupala?’ ‘Oh!’ Vidur said, a little irritated at Duryodhana’s rant. ‘Do you realize that Shishupala mocked Krishna in exactly the same way? And you know what happened to him, don’t you?’ ‘I know. I also know that everyone present then were mere spectators.’ ‘No one stopped you from objecting!’ Bhishma growled. ‘I know when to keep my mouth shut. I had no intention being beheaded. And there was another reason for me not to respond or object. You all, while living off the Kaurava dynasty, were dependent on the Pandavas and watched the spectacle helplessly …’ ‘Duryodhana!’ Bhishmacharya shouted, getting up. ‘Please sit down!’ Duryodhana shouted back. ‘You are in the presence of the Kauravas and not the Pandavas. Please think twice before you say anything to the yuvraj of the empire. Are you upset that I called you helpless? I am surprised you did not get upset when the invitation for the yagna was delivered through Nakul, while protocol demands that Yudhishthira should have come personally. I take it as an insult to the Kaurava Empire.’ ‘Please calm down, Duryodhana,’ Dhritarashtra said, worried about his shorttempered son. ‘Have they shown restraint?’ Duryodhana retorted. ‘Why should I be asked to? Jarasandha, a loyal er of the Kauravas, who had forced Krishna to run away to Dwarka, was killed by deceit. Shishupala, who had welcomed Bheema

and had happily contributed to the yagna, was beheaded in public view by Krishna. Because he dared speak the truth? And our great elders here, the ones who are supposed to uphold moral values, were mute spectators. Look at the irony! All the loyal ers of the Kauravas handed over their donations to handed over their donations to Chief Minister Vidur, who handed it over to the Pandavas. One must ire the ingenuity of the Pandavas! They managed their entire show thanks to the largesse of Kaurava ers! Father, the fire of the rajsuya yagna has managed to reduce our kingdom to ashes.’ ‘What are you blabbering about?’ Dhritarashtra asked, his tone a mixture of agitation and fear. ‘The fire dried up all tears I would ever have. You can never open your eyes and see, while our esteemed advisors here may have their eyes intact but their vision has been blurred by the empathy they have for the Pandavas and their blind faith in Krishna. You are lucky that you do not have to suffer the ignominy of seeing your empire being reduced to a hollow shell. I envy you.’ ‘Enough, Duryodhana! Don’t say whatever comes to your mind. Do you realize you are talking to Pitamah, who built this empire from scratch? Vidur, who made the empire famous and prosperous, thanks to his brilliant istrative capabilities? And Acharya, who taught you all the skills which make you so proud? The least you can do is show gratitude to these great souls,’ Dronacharya thundered. ‘What gives you the right to say that they destroyed the empire? How dare you!’ ‘Acharya, Pitamah cannot differentiate between the two sets of brothers. Mahatma Vidur, thanks to his proximity to us, can only find faults with me while he praises the Pandavas at every given opportunity. And you! You are ever ready to dispense justice. But little do you realize that your decisions are leading to the downfall of the Kaurava empire.’ ‘What makes you say all this?’ Bhishma asked. ‘Can you not see with open eyes? The empire is being broken into pieces. You did not me when I objected to it. Allowing Yudhishtira to be the emperor would have at least ensured that there was no split. You have proposed dividing the empire and now you are complaining that we are responsible for the split. What kind of logic is this?’

‘It was a way to avoid confrontation,’ Vidur clarified. ‘No one willingly wanted to break up the empire.’ ‘You are mistaken if you think that by giving the Pandavas a part of our territory they will be happy. Hastinapur, once the pride of the Kaurava dynasty, has lost its glory. It was once a place enemies feared and the valiant felt proud of. Our craftsmen, known for their skills in making chariots, were used to build houses for the Pandavas and our mighty elephants, whose thundering footsteps make our enemies shiver, were reduced to transporting logs to build the new city. In the pursuit of so-called peace, you have destroyed the very essence of our city.’ ‘What do you want …’ Dhritarashtra asked, his voice quivering. ‘I have no choice but to give up my life. I cannot take this anymore.’ ‘What?’ Dhritarashtra screamed ‘Yes! Let me confess: I was the one who had ordered the burning down of the lac palace where the Pandavas were living. But they were lucky to have their spies here in our palace who informed them well in advance.’ ‘Yuvraj!’ Vidur shouted, unable to take it any longer. Duryodhana continued, smiling at his uncle, ‘Why are you getting upset? Am I accusing you? You may have the god-given ability of foresight, but what about a mere warrior like me? I survive with the ability to have an eagle’s eyesight and catch my prey unawares. Enough! I will take leave now!’ ‘Where are you going?’ ‘I don’t know, but it’s definitely going to be far away from this place—where I can find some peace and be treated with respect. I am only made to feel that I am living off the charity of the Pandavas, and that suffocates me.’ Duryodhana, noticing his father fiddling with the necklace, remarked, ‘Father, I am told that the necklace has some very powerful stones. It will not take long for them to show their true colours, a week at the most. If the stones mean well, we will get back our empire. Else, we will be reduced to dust. We have to wait and see if they bestow their blessings on us. I will leave now, Father.’

Without waiting for anyone to reply, Duryodhana turned and left the hall. Karna followed suit. The room was silent for a while. No one knew what to say. Finally, Vidur cleared his throat to speak. ‘This was unexpected. He is extremely impatient. In the current situation …’ ‘Vidur, please wait! Don’t say anything more,’ Dhritarashtra interrupted to Vidur’s surprise. Vidur noticed Dhritarashtra had stood up and was shivering. His lips trembled as he said, ‘For once, will you let me hear the truth?’ He threw the necklace he was holding away. The pearls bounced off the floors making a tinkling sound and crashed against the walls. The maids rushed to hold Dhritarashtra’s hands as he walked away from the hall before anyone could respond.

16

The next evening, Duryodhana was still deep in conversation with Shakuni and Karna. Duryodhana was still fuming when he asked Karna, ‘Brother, may I come to Champanagri?’ ‘Yuvraj, it is your city. However, please do not act in haste …’ ‘No, I am not being hasty,’ Duryodhana interrupted. ‘I don’t feel like being here anymore.’ ‘Why are you upset? What is making you feel this way?’ Shakuni asked. ‘What else is to happen, Mama-ji? Are you not aware?’ ‘I know! The whole palace is abuzz with all kinds of gossip.’ ‘I don’t care,’ Duryodhana said sadly. ‘I barely sleep these days. Even in dreams, I can only think of the mayasabha or the yajna. You are partly responsible for this, Mama-ji.’ ‘Me? That’s odd—why would you say that.’ ‘I was not interested in attending the yajna, but you persisted.’ ‘Is that right, Duryodhana?’ Shakuni said, raising his voice. ‘Let us not ignore facts. Would the yajna have taken place had you not attended? One cannot be blind to the strength of one’s enemy. Rather, one should know exactly how strong they are. Weren’t the same kings, who once swore allegiance to the Kauravas, ready to kowtow to the Pandavas? Had the Pandavas not been ambitious, they would not have insulted us in the mayasabha. The fact is that Yudhishthira has challenged Kaurava supremacy by performing the yajna.’ ‘They do not know our strength,’ Duryodhana said. ‘Do you really think so?’ Shakuni asked, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. ‘Yudhishthira was presented with the royal seal, and all the kings present accepted Pandava supremacy unquestioningly. And with Pitamah’s request that Krishna accept the honour of agrapooja, what more proof do you need?’

Karna said, ‘But that does not negate Kaurava might. I have no doubt that if the need arises, the same Bhishma Pitamah, Dronachayra, Vidur or Kripacharya would not hesitate to show their allegiance to the Kauravas. A mere word from the emperor would be enough …’ Shakuni interrupted, ‘You are far too naive, Karna. The Kaurava emperor is blind and his wife, in her loyalty to her husband, too has voluntarily tied a cloth around her eyes.’ ‘Don’t forget, Mama-ji, that the sons of the Kaurava emperor are not blind,’ Duryodhana said. ‘Do you want to hear the truth?’ Shakuni challenged. ‘Yes!’ ‘The Kauarava chariot, drawn by the hundred Kauravas, is being charioted by Vidur. He is the one holding the reins.’ ‘Mama-ji!’ Duryodhana exclaimed. ‘Drink some wine, nephew—it will soothe your nerves. There is no point in getting angry now. You should have shown your anger when you were invited to the yajna. Did you not get angry when the ladies in the mayasabha sniggered at your falling in the hall of illusions? Was your ego not hurt when Bheema mocked you, calling you “the son of a blind emperor?”’ ‘Mama-ji, I didn’t expect you to …’ ‘Duryodhana, I am as hurt and angry as you are.’ ‘Is there no way out of this mess?’ Duryodhana asked helplessly. ‘There is—if one looks for it.’ ‘Tell me, Mama-ji!’ ‘Have a drink,’ Shakuni said, holding out a tumbler of wine. Duryodhana sipped it for a while and then, wiping his lips with the back of his

palm looked at Karna, who ventured, ‘War?’ ‘No.’ ‘A treaty?’ ‘Treachery?’ Shakuni merely shook his head, drinking a little more wine. ‘Speak, Mama-ji! What other way can there be?’ ‘An invitation to a game of dice,’ Shakuni said, looking at the two of them. ‘A game of dice?’ Karna and Duryodhana asked, looking at each other in confusion. ‘What are you staring at me for?’ Shakuni asked, rubbing his palms together as if preparing to cast the dice. ‘Surely you know Yudhishthira is addicted to the game? And if a king were to be challenged by another one, he cannot lawfully refuse. He is a Kshatriya after all!’ ‘What would be the occasion for the game?’ ‘Invite them on the pretext of a yajna for the purpose of obtaining the blessings of all the elders. Dhritarashtra will give his consent. Let the game be set, and I will show you my prowess then!’ ‘Maharaj, I apologize for interrupting,’ Karna said. ‘You have a lot of experience and have travelled far and wide. And yet you believe in a game of luck?’ ‘Yes, Angaraj!’ Shakuni said, adjusting his angavastram on his shoulders as he stood up. His eyes glinted with a strange emotion. ‘Radheya, I am not just a trader—I am also the king of Gandhara. When I travel from Hastinapur to Gandhara, it is not for trade but for the love of gambling!’ ‘I don’t understand,’ Duryodhana said. ‘The main reason people travel from Hastinapur to Gandhara is to win riches, lovely handmaidens and the immense wealth of the kings!’

Karna and Duryodhana looked at the king of Gandhara askance. Shakuni was lost in his own world as he spoke. ‘The journey takes you through ravines and valleys along the mighty Himalayas. The camels, carrying expensive goods, walk in a long line while soldiers, alert and on the lookout for bandits, guard the caravan. At dusk, a camp is set up and soon, small fires are lit up everywhere as people retire for the evening. With the tiredness of the journey, the chill of the mountain air and the slight intoxication and warmth provided by the wine and fire respectively, the men are ready for a game of dice.’ ‘Isn’t a game of dice a form of gambling?’ Karna asked. ‘Karna, I am not an ordinary gambler. Like a lover who knows each part of his companion’s body in the darkness of the night, my palms know each face of the dice very well.’ ‘Can we depend on Shakuni to win?’ Duryodhana asked, warming up to the idea. Karna said, before Shakuni could answer, ‘Yuvraj, only fools and addicts depend on gambling for victory. It’s all very well to indulge in a game or two for entertainment, but gambling has no place in politics. One needs an intelligent mind and a strong body to win in war. Gambling does not suit a true warrior.’ ‘Radheya, you are right,’ Shakuni said, nodding. ‘You are a warrior and you understand the importance of strength and intelligence. You have seen the might of Krishna’s army and you know that thousands of kings have pledged their undying to the Pandavas. Do you think you can defeat the Pandavas in a war today? Even if you were confident of victory, do you think Dhritarashtra Maharaj would ever agree to war? I am sure you understand that with each ing day, the Pandavas are only getting stronger. So clearly, strength is not in your favour. But we can use our intelligence—and that is what I am suggesting.’ ‘Maharaj, only meek and unstable hands resort to throwing a pair of dice,’ said Karna. Shakuni’s eyes pierced Karna’s for a moment. They glowed with a certain sense of confidence. He said, raising his palms, ‘You think these hands are weak? You do not know the magic they can produce. Believe in them, Angaraj. They may shake when lifting a glass of wine, but you should see their magic when they hold a pair of dice. They are famed for the powers they possess when they roll the dice. When I roll the dice, people are reminded of the dancers in the royal

hall, and gamblers wait with bated breath for the dice to show their faces. I am sure Yudhisthira, addicted to the game as he is, would losing everything he has.’ ‘Do you think we should put our trust in them?’ Duryodhana asked, unable to believe that his uncle held the power to control the dice. ‘I am not a warrior like Karna, who has learnt the art of the brahmastra. Nor do I have a kavach-kundala that allows me to face the enemy without fear like he does. I don’t know how to steer a chariot expertly through the battlefield either. But this is one power I have and no one equals me. You need to decide whether you want to use my powers or not.’ ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Yuvraj, the dice, when they roll on to the board, enslave everyone around. They do not have hands but they cripple people all the same. Not only are they cold to the touch, but they freeze the hearts of their opponents. Their power exceeds that of the valiant warrior in the battlefield. Duryodhana, just invite Yudhishthira to a game and see the magic these hands would create for you. If I don’t make those five Pandavas place their arrogance and their crowns at your feet, you may change my name!’ ‘What if Yudhishthira manages to win instead of you?’ Karna asked tauntingly. ‘Impossible!’ Shakuni said, his confidence bubbling over. ‘Radheya, you are new to this and have no idea what I am talking about. After having shot a few arrows and practised a little with the sword, a soldier often begins to think he is a warrior. But the moment he steps on to the battlefield, his so-called valour vanishes. The sounds of battle makes the hearts of the strongest quail. It is only those who do not fear death but rather spurn it who make the best warriors. That is what we call sanskar. Such are my sanskars when it comes to these dice. I have mastered the art of making them spin and roll the way I want. They listen only to those who have the desire to win at any cost. Yudhishthira, who slots everything into black and white, good and evil, can never dream of winning against me. This is a game where I am the victor even before I begin playing.’ Karna was nonplussed and fell silent. Looking at him, Duryodhana said, ‘Mamaji, do you think Father would give permission to …’ ‘It is imperative that you convey this plan to your father. Once he permits the

game to take place, victory is ours!’ Duryodhana shook his head. ‘Mama-ji, you can talk to him more easily than me. I would not know what to say!’ ‘Don’t worry, yajnas and gambling both have royal permission. I will ensure that you are called for a meeting with him in the morning before his advisors arrive. I will create the right environment for you to make this suggestion in the meanwhile.’ Shakuni, having convinced Duryodhana of his plan, left the room. Duryodhana smiled in relief at having found a solution, and he looked at his friend but was surprised to find Karna’s forehead creased. ‘Radheya?’ Karna looked at Duryodhana and shaking his head, said, ‘I don’t like the idea of a game of dice. A true warrior never resorts to tricks.’ ‘What other options do we have?’ ‘If I could think of any, I would have told you. But that does not mean we that we should resort to gambling. I beg you to reconsider—don’t make a decision in haste. Gambling and a loss of character—once you tread that path, there is no way back.’ That evening, Karna returned to his palace, his mind disturbed by the discussions.

17

The next morning, as the sun rose in the sky, Karna’s chariot rushed towards Duryodhana’s palace. Karna was hoping that the plan to invite the Pandavas for a game of dice would not materialize. He was confident that despite love for his son, the emperor would listen to Vidur’s advice. The chariot soon entered the wide gates leading to the palace grounds. On any other day, the melodious crowing of the peacocks would have made him smile. But today, he was too preoccupied to pay attention. As he drew closer, he saw Duryodhana waiting for him on the steps, smiling. ‘Welcome, my friend, welcome. There is much to tell you.’ As they entered Duryodhana’s quarters, Karna said, ‘Your father has given his consent.’ ‘Yes! And he has also ordered that we erect a magnificent hall where the game will be played.’ ‘What did Vidur Maharaj say?’ ‘Did you really expect my uncle to give his permission? We have to ensure that he does not get even a whiff of this whole affair till it actually happens.’ ‘Yuvraj, will you listen to me for a moment?’ ‘I know, I know! You do not like this, but I am prepared to listen to you. Speak, my friend!’ ‘There’s no point if you have made up your mind—I have nothing to say.’ ‘Your silence is worse than your objections. Don’t be so upset!’ ‘I am not upset, Yuvraj. Warriors should not take such slippery paths to victory.’ ‘Slippery paths? This is gambling—and it has royal consent.’ ‘Kings don’t play to win. They play for entertainment, and it allows others to make a little money. One should restrict one’s game to that.’

‘All right—let us cancel the plan.’ Karna was overjoyed at how easily Duryodhana seemed to have been convinced. He said, a little surprised, ‘I am proud of you, my friend!’ ‘It is good that at least someone feels that way. What else do I have to make me feel happy? The Pandavas will only go from strength to strength, and I will have to see the Kaurava Empire lose its might. I will have to accept whatever comes my way and be content. If this is what our might and our ambition leads to, then so be it!’ ‘Can you not think of any other way?’ ‘Can you?’ ‘No, but that still does not mean I would resort to such tactics.’ ‘A game of dice is not for the faint-hearted.’ ‘Faint-hearted? Are you accusing me of being a coward?’ Karna said, puffing his chest out. ‘Don’t you know your friend? Ask me to attack Indraprastha and I will not hesitate for even a moment. I don’t need to assess the strength of my soldiers or that of my enemy. Karna has enough courage to go on his own!’ Duryodhana laughed out loudly, much to Karna’s chagrin. Radheya asked, ‘Does that make you laugh?’ ‘Do you realize what you just said?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘Gambling is no different: you plunge into the game without bothering to check on your opponent.’ Karna was taken aback at the analogy and fell quiet. ‘Everything in life is a gamble, isn’t it? Do we know beforehand who we will face when we enter the battlefield? Or do we know what arrow, taut on the enemy’s bow, will be fired at us? Isn’t walking into a battle, without knowing the result, a kind of gamble? Didn’t life play the biggest gamble with you when you were left to fend for yourself floating on a basket in the midst of a river? Whether we meet a spouse, a friend, each step we take is a gamble and yet we do not hesitate. Then why should we hesitate when we play a game of dice?’

‘Yuvraj, no one knows the outcome when you sit down to gamble.’ ‘There are only two outcomes: victory or defeat. And I am willing to try it.’ ‘Let it be so then! Let whatever happens happen,’ Karna said, resigned to what would follow.

That night Karna, after having spent the evening with his family, relaxed in his chambers, sipping wine from a tumbler, when Vrushali walked in. ‘Has Mother gone to bed?’ he asked her. Vrushali shook her head. ‘Why have you come in early then?’ Vrushali blushed and said, ‘She asked me to—she said you would be waiting.’ Karna laughed and waved his hand, knocking down the tumbler kept. The wine spilled onto the floor as the tumbler fell with a loud clang. ‘Oh, let me fill it up for you,’ Vrushali said quickly. ‘It does not matter. After all, in gambling you lose some and you win some.’ ‘Gambling?’ ‘Yes. Our meeting too is a gamble.’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘I realized that today, Vasu. Here we are, sitting and chatting with each other. Do we know whether we will fight now? Isn’t that a gamble?’ ‘I think you are drunk,’ Vrushali said, pulling Karna by the hand. ‘Now, get up and go to bed.’ Karna said, getting up, ‘What about the gambling?’ ‘Don’t worry. It is the woman, and not the man of the house, who controls the dice in the bedroom,’ Vrushali said and smiled. Karna looked at his wife as she went about extinguishing the lamps, and the room slowly turned dark.

18

The preparations for both the yajna and the construction of the palace began at a hectic pace. Hundreds of masons, carpenters, artists, sculptors and other workmen toiled day and night to create a thing of beauty. Duryodhana was only focused on these tasks, burning to outdo the Pandavas. Finally, the hall where the game was to be played was ready for inspection. It had more than a hundred carved pillars, and the arches were decked with precious stones and diamonds. Many doors and large windows made the hall look spacious and airy. The main door was a grand affair, and the roof was decorated with different paintings. A large painting of Shiva and Parvati immersed in a game of dice enticed visitors to step inside. The seating space itself was semi-circular and a little raised, designed such that each spectator would be able to see the game without any obstruction. For the players, a raised marble platform decorated with beautiful carpets had been built. A special throne had been built for the emperor to sit on. Just behind the throne, a magnificent painting of an eagle spreading its wings and swooping down on a cobra caught the eye of those entering the hall. On the marble platform, facing the semi-circular seating arrangement, lay a board on which the game would be played. Everything was in place now; the hall was waiting to receive its royal guests. Duryodhana was satisfied after a tour of the place. He asked, ‘Karna, is there anything you find amiss?’ ‘No, the hall is complete in all respects. I have no interest in a gambling den, but looking at such a beautiful one does tempt me to try the game once!’ Duryodhana laughed out loud. ‘You don’t have to wait long. Mama-ji has selected the seventh day of the month as an auspicious one for us to play against the Pandavas.’ ‘Isn’t that too early?’ ‘We are almost ready. Just yesterday, Father asked Vidur to personally invite the Pandavas to the game. We’ve worded it as an invitation to relax after having worked hard for the yajna. They will be entertained with dance, music and, of course, a game of dice!’

Suddenly, hearing footsteps, they both turned. Duryodhana’s brother Vikarna walked in and announced, ‘Mahatma Vidur is on his way here.’ ‘I hope he is ready to leave for Indraprastha.’ ‘Yes, I am accompanying him there.’ At that moment, Vidur stepped in. His creased forehead clearly showed him in distress. He looked at Duryodhana and Karna as they greeted him. Duryodhana said, ‘It’s good to see you, Uncle, I’m glad you’re here! Take a look at this hall.’ Pointing towards the semi-circular sitting arrangement, he said, ‘That where the Pandavas will sit. And this is where the Kauravas will sit. The throne for Father is right in the middle there! And your place, as always, next to …’ Vidur interrupted him saying, ‘Yuvraj, Dhritarashtra Maharaj has asked me to invite the Pandavas to Hastinapur.’ ‘Yes, I know—it was I who suggested that you be the one to invite them.’ ‘I am not interested in such matters—you know that.’ ‘Why, though, Uncle? You were quite excited to participate in their yajna. Why not in this? The only difference is that instead of the mayasabha for entertainment, we have a game of dice.’ ‘I would have gladly gone had your yajna and the game been in good faith.’ ‘What exactly are you hinting at? Karna, did you hear what Uncle said?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘Duryodhana, Don’t let this game happen! Please don’t ask me to invite them here.’ ‘Who am I to give you any orders? This is Father’s command. I had merely suggested that you be the one to go, that’s all!’ ‘Why me?’

‘No one loves the Pandavas as dearly as you do. You are their protector.’ ‘Protector?’ ‘Of course!’ Duryodhana said, his voice taking on an edge. ‘How else did they escape the lac palace, where they should surely have perished? Did they not cross the Ganga thanks to the boat provided by you? I know you have been helping them, Uncle!’ ‘And yet you want me to go?’ ‘Precisely! You are their well-wisher and Father’s advisor. You would never hide anything from the Pandavas—that way, no one can blame for me for having betrayed their trust.’ ‘Karna, is this your advice to Duryodhana?’ Vidur asked, turning to Radheya. ‘Leave him out of this, please!’ Duryodhana shouted. ‘Karna, is this your advice?’ Vidur repeated. ‘And what if I said yes?’ asked Karna. Vidur shook his head, saying, ‘I don’t believe it! You would not resort to such lowly acts. You would rather jump into a battle but this game of dice …’ ‘If you don’t believe it, why ask me then?’ Karna retorted. ‘Uncle, when you go to Indraprastha, you can tell Yudhisthira that the yajna is merely an excuse, while the game is the real challenge. Tell him that the king of Gandhara Shakuni Maharaj is going to roll the dice. His hands have the power to make the dice turn the way he wishes. Anyone sitting down to play with him is sure to lose. Tell him all that; and only then invite him.’ Karna was surprised to hear Duryodhana speak so openly. He asked, not being able to control his curiosity, ‘Yuvraj, do you expect him to come after hearing that?’ ‘A wise man would not. But Yudhishthira is addicted to the game. And he cannot afford to appear as though he was afraid of such threats, the fake king that he is!’

‘What has his kingship got to do with this?’ ‘Everything! If he is truly a Kshatriya, he cannot refuse a challenge of this sort— he would be a laughing stock otherwise. He has to come—he has no choice.’ Duryodhana laughed loudly, and his laughter echoed in the large hall long after Vidur had left.

19

Duryodhana’s estimate turned out to be accurate. The Pandavas soon arrived with their families. The other guests, unaware of Duryodhana’s plan, had felt a little relieved seeing the two factions of the family mingling with each other. The Pandavas were treated well with every luxury being provided, not to mention the choicest of foods and all kinds of entertainment. The chanting of the mantras for the yajna woke up the guests the next morning. The Pandavas hurried to reach the palace where Bhishmacharya, Dronacharya, Vidur, Duryodhana and Vikarna received them. After the formalities were over, Dhritarashtra said, ‘Yudhishthira, Duryodhana has built a lovely hall where you can play a game of dice. You should have a look at it.’ Yudhishthira nodded saying, ‘As you command, Maharaj. I am eager to see it too, having heard so much about it. After all, that’s why I’m here.’ Soon after, Yudhishthira reached the hall to find all others having assembled already. Sanjaya led him to his seat. Those assembled there waited for Dhritarashtra Maharaj to take his place before sitting down. A hush descended in the hall. Duryodhana stood up and said, ‘Father, it is with your blessings that the great hall has taken its current shape. Those present are eager to see the game being played. After all, the invitee is none other than Yudhishthira who has recently performed the rajsuya yajna. The game is being watched by our elders like Bhishma Pitamah and Mahatma Vidur, and learned souls like Dronacharya and Kripacharya. I request your permission to begin the game.’ Dhritarashtra said, his voice sombre, ‘My dear children, please that gambling has always led to discord. I have often been warned that is a one-way street. But I know that it is permitted as per the rules of the Kshatriyas, and thus I have given my permission. I hope you play for fun and with affection for each other.’ Duryodhana looked at Yudhishthira, who said, ‘I would like to know who I am playing with and who is responsible for fulfilling all the bets placed.’

Duryodhana’s words rang clear, ‘As mentioned earlier, Gandhara Maharaj Shakuni would be playing on my behalf, while I will make good whatever he loses. I am bound by my oath in the presence of all those assembled in this hall.’ Shakuni got up saying, ‘I am ready to play.’ Yudhishthira looked at the assembly and said, ‘Shakuni Maharaj, I was warned by Dhritarashtra Maharaj that the game tempts one to resort to all kinds of wrongdoings.’ Shakuni smiled. ‘My dear, you are wise enough to know that weak suspect the strong. If you are afraid of playing against me, you can leave.’ Shakuni’s words were enough to prick Yudhishthira’s ego. Adjusting his angavastram, he walked down the steps towards his seat and said, ‘Let us play!’ A victorious smile flickered across Shakuni’s face briefly as he walked towards the seating area. There was a palpable eagerness in the assembly as they watched the players. The Pandavas seemed a little worried, but Shakuni, taking off his rings, got ready to play. Shakuni picked up the dice near the platform and cupped them in his palms. He brought his hands near his ears and then rubbing his palms together, he aked in a loud voice, ‘Raja, what are you betting?’ Yudhishthira touched a beautiful and expensive diamond necklace adorning his neck. He said, ‘This necklace.’ The dice rolled onto the board and within moments, Shakuni’s voice was heard, ‘I win!’ A satisfied smile spread across Duryodhana’s face. He knew his uncle had not lied. Karna watched with fascination as the game progressed. Things were getting interesting now!

A huge boulder crashing down the side of a mountain takes innumerable rocks and other debris with it. In the same way, Yudhishthira lost his servants, handmaidens, cattle, wealth and finally his entire kingdom in quick succession. He turned once to look at his brothers and soon enough, he had lost Nakul and Sahadev. Desperate to win back whatever he had lost, he sat wondering if he had anything left to bet. Shakuni asked, ‘What’s wrong? Not willing to stake your other brothers?’ Yudhishthira was not willing to be cowed down by such taunts, and soon he lost Bheema and Arjuna. Shakuni said with a terrible finality, ‘Raja, you have lost everything!’ ‘No! Not yet!’ Yudhishthira screamed. ‘I have myself. I am betting myself—my body, mind and soul.’ Contrary to Yudhishthira’s hopes, he lost that round too! The audience gasped in surprise and despite the airy comforts of the hall, they felt suffocated. Yudhishthira looked dejectedly at the dice as they lay still on the board. Shakuni said, ‘Raja, you should not have bet yourself when you still have some wealth left.’ ‘I don’t have anything left,’ Yudhishthira said, his voice full of anguish. ‘How can you say that? You have your wife Panchali. Isn’t she your wealth?’ ‘Panchali?’ ‘Yes, she is still free. If you win, you will be free of your bondage. But if you lose, she too will be our slave. Are we agreed?’ Having discovered something to stake, Yudhishthira scarcely heard Shakuni. He nodded in agreement, eager to play and said, ‘I concur. The one whose eyes are like lotuses blooming in autumn, whose long tresses are enchanting, whose narrow waist is the envy of all women and whose intelligence and grace is matchless—I am staking her on the next round.’

Shakuni raised his hands to throw the dice. A deathly silence prevailed in the assembly as all waited to see the roll of the dice. Duryodhana, unable to bear the suspense, stood up. In the silence of the hall, the sound of the dice rubbing against each other in Shakuni’s palms was deafening. The next roll would change the future of the Kuru dynasty forever.

20

The dice rolled and after what seemed like an interminable moment, they finally stopped. Shakuni looked at the board and then at Yudhishthira. The Pandavas had lost Panchali! Unable to bear the silence, Dhritarashtra asked Sanjaya, ‘What did we win?’ Fortunately for Sanjaya, he did not have to answer as Dhritarashtra heard Yudhishthira’s anguished cry, ‘I have lost!’ ‘Victory! Victory!’ Shakuni got up, upsetting the board in the process. A wave of celebration spread amongst the Kauravas while the entire hall murmured just one sentence: ‘The Pandavas have lost Draupadi.’ Draupadi, the royal queen, would be a mere slave of the Kauravas from that moment. Some things are impossible to imagine—like the moon landing on the earth or the sun losing its heat, nectar tasting bitter or the wind losing its ability to move things! In their wildest dreams, no one could imagine Draupadi as a slave! The Pandavas had nothing more to lose. Likewise, the Kauravas had nothing more to gain. Shakuni stood watching the crowd, his face gleaming with pride at having vanquished the Pandavas. His head bobbed a little; the sudden excitement of the win was more than his old body could bear. Using his angavastram coiled around his wrist, he fanned himself. His eyes pierced the defeated Pandavas, who were unable to return his gaze. He slipped back the rings which he had taken off earlier and pointing at the Pandavas, he said, his voice booming across the large hall, ‘The Pandavas have lost everything. They have no claim on their clothes. They have lost Draupadi too. From this moment, Krishnaa’s destiny is in the hands of the Kauravas.’ Karna, sitting next to Duryodhana, watched as the drama unfolded in the hall. He looked at Duryodhana to see him gloating in the victory which his uncle had managed for him. At that moment, Vidur stood up. The smile on Duryodhana’s face turned into a grimace.

Vidur was known to speaking plainly, and everyone knew about his affection for the Pandavas. Vidur turned towards Shakuni and said, ‘Shakuni, you won the game today. Your ability to turn the dice as per your will is well known but today, we had the chance to see it in action. You enticed Yudhishthira to stake Draupadi when he had lost everything. The game was to be played for entertainment, not to cause harm. You are known for your intelligence when it comes to buying a rare steed or an elephant, but men are different. The Pandavas may have lost themselves in the game, but they cannot be enslaved. You cannot ignore that they have been accepted by everyone when they performed the rajsuya yajna. The eminent men assembled here cannot forget that despite Draupadi being labelled a slave, she is first and foremost a woman. There are boundaries which we cannot, and should not, cross.’ Looking at Karna, he added, ‘One does not become a king just because someone donated a kingdom to him and nor can one be enslaved because he lost his kingdom. Draupadi was born a princess and she is Indraprastha’s queen. One cannot forget that.’ Karna’s blood boiled, he felt that the reference to his kingship was unnecessary. Getting up, he thundered, ‘Who are you calling a queen? Draupadi? What is Rajmata Gandhari then? It seems Vidur Maharaj, who has long lived off Dhritarashtra Maharaj’s hospitality, has had a sudden loss of memory. Else, he would not have referred to the Pandava Empire in the presence of the Kaurava emperor. This game of dice has been played with the explicit approval of all involved. The Pandavas have lost that which they never had to begin with. When they have no kingdom of any kind, how does it matter if she is a queen?’ Duryodhana, getting up to Karna, added, ‘Karna, there is no doubt someone low-born would come forward in of his own.’ The taunt referring to Vidur being born to a maid was not lost on those present. ‘Vidur Maharaj,’ Duryodhana continued, ‘has always taken the sides of the Pandavas. There is nothing surprising about it.’ Vidur did not expect Duryodhana to take him on aggressively. He said placatingly, ‘Yuvraj, I can understand your angst. I can never dream of insulting the Kaurava Empire and my loyalty is unquestionable. I was only trying to ensure that there is no stain on the honour of the empire, lest the world taunt us for acts performed in rage. The Pandavas are our guests here and I hoped that we would treat them with courtesy and …’

‘Courtesy? Treat the Pandavas with respect?’ Duryodhana erupted. ‘We invited them courteously to this game of dice. But did they not teach us how to treat guests when they were entertained by our embarrassment in their mayasabha? Did they not forget their duties as hosts when their guests were being laughed at? They were invited here not to be treated as guests but for a game of dice. After all, you were the one who invited them here. You had warned them that Shakuni is skilled at throwing the dice and that the dice listen to his commands. You must have realized, a little too late perhaps, that though one can find ways to escape a burning palace or get into a boat on the river, but when it comes to cheating destiny, you are helpless. I suggest you go inside and bring Panchali, whose beauty Yudhishthira never gets tired of praising.’ It was too much for Vidur to bear and he slipped down his seat, much to the amusement of Duryodhana who looked at his charioteer Pratikarma and said, ‘Pratikarma, it is not for cowards like Vidur to obey my command. All he can do is praise the Pandavas and criticize us. Let everyone know the power the Kauravas wield. Drag that slave of ours here right away!’ Pratikarma left and a loud murmur filled the hall. Bhishma, Drona and Kriparchaya squirmed uncomfortably, feeling helpless as the situation grew worse. After a while, Pratikarma returned alone. Duryodhana asked, ‘What happened? Where is Panchali?’ ‘She is not in a position to come here, Maharaj.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘She is ekavastra, wearing a single robe, as she is menstruating. When I relayed your command, she requested me to ask a question.’ ‘What is it?’ Duryodhana blurted. ‘She wanted me to ask Yudhishthira: “Having lost yourself in the game, what right do you have to put me at stake?” That is her question.’ Yudhishthira stood there without blinking as he tried to absorb the meaning of the question Panchali had thrown at him.

An impatient Duryodhana shouted, ‘Go back right away and bring her here. Let her ask in person whatever questions she wants. The assembly will be entertained to see this exchange.’ Pratikarma seemed reluctant to move. He had been hoping against hope that he would not have to go back. Yudhishthira, having come to his senses, said to Pratikarma, ‘Please tell Draupadi that this is not the time to seek answers. Ask her to come in whatever state she may be in. Perhaps seeing her in that state might shame this assembly and the Kauravas, and they may show comion.’ Bhishma and the other elders recoiled as if from a physical blow hearing Drupadi’s husband speak thus. Disgust spread through Karna listening to Yudhishthira speak so about his wife. Duryodhana, drunk in his victory and unmindful of the reactions around him, ordered Dushasana, ‘What are you standing here and gaping for? Get that slave of ours now! And if she refuses, don’t hesitate to use force. Do not return alone!’ Dushasana left at once to obey his elder brother’s command. The assembly trembled as one knowing that Draupadi would soon be presented. It was a situation they had never imagined in their wildest dreams. Their attention was focussed on the noise they heard at the door leading to the inner quarters and within moments, Dushasana was dragging Draupadi out by her hair while she screamed, ‘Leave me, you brute! Leave me!’ Dushasana brought Draupadi into the centre of the hall and dropped her on the floor contemptously. She lay there, her body limp, while her bluish-black curls covered half her face. Dushasana, pointing at Draupadi on the floor said, ‘The slave to the Kauravas is here for the assembly to see.’ Draupadi came to her senses and looked up, her gaze focused on Dushasana. She had recovered from her initial shock. Pushing back the hair from her face with one hand while adjusting the cloth wrapped around her body, her eyes scanned the assembly. For a brief moment, her eyes, showing a mixture of anguish and pain, stopped to look at Yudhishthira. Seeing him, her weakness vanished and

her eyes grew dark with anger. She was beyond being concerned about her half naked and piteous state. She said, looking at Bhishmacharya, ‘Pitamah, justice is all I ask. Is it fair to trap my husband into a game of dice, of which he has no knowledge, and by someone who controls the dice?’ Duryodhana stood up and thundered, ‘There is no need for Pitamah to answer that. Let my new slave Yudhishthira answer. He may be a slave but has not lost his intelligence.’ All eyes turned to Yudhishthira. He looked up and said, his voice surprisingly calm, ‘It is true, Panchali, what they say. I am responsible for whatever state we are in. We cannot blame anyone else.’ Yudhishthira’s words were like the proverbial last straw on the camel’s back. Yet, Draupadi managed to keep calm and asked Bhishma again, ‘Pitamah! I had asked a question before I was dragged here. Having lost everything and his own self, does a slave have a right to stake his wife in the game? In this assembly, where even my once-valiant husbands are mute spectators, only you can save me. Tell me, does my husband have a right to stake me?’ Bhishmacharya had never expected to face such a situation. He had led a life of sacrifice and valour. For a promise made to his father in his youth, he had stifled all his ambitions, remained unmarried and never staked his claim to the throne. Today, he was being made to answer a question he had no answer to. Those in the hall waited for Pitamah’s judgement. Getting up from his seat, he tried to control the turmoil of emotions racing through his mind. ‘Subhaga,’ he started, ‘your question is profound. Dharma as practised by men with a sane mind is what the world recognizes as the right course. I don’t have an answer to your question. You are right when you say that a man has no right to stake anything when he has lost his own self. On the other hand, Panchali, as a wife to the Pandavas, your identity is intrinsically linked to theirs. When they lost themselves, you too were lost. A slave’s wife is a slave too! Yudhishthira itted that he had lost his own self and everything else he had. I am unable to give any further opinion on this.’ He had been Draupadi’s last hope, and Bhishma’s ambiguous reply let her down. Her world looked as if the sun had been suddenly covered by an ominous cloud. Duryodhana and Karna heaved a sigh of relief, their smiles revealing their

emotions. Vidur and Vikarna, though willing ers of Draupadi’s, did not know what to say. Panchali felt as helpless as a small boat tossed and buffeted on the high seas. Duryodhana, waiting for Bhishma to take his seat, got up the next moment and said, ‘Draupadi, if you proclaim in this august gathering that I am your saviour and that Yudhishthira is no longer your lord, I will release you from bondage. Say that Yudhishthira was wrong to play the game and I will let you go.’ It was impossible for Draupadi to publicly desert her allegiance to her husbands. She continued to stare at the floor. Duryodhana’s laughter cut like a knife through the tense, still air. Vidur and Vikarna squirmed in their seats. Vikarna, unable to hold himself back, stood up and addressed the audience. ‘All the honourable kings assembled here, I ask you —what is dharma? Can be interpreted the way one wants? The very act of dragging a woman into the assembly is an act of adharma. The game of dice has been won by deceit. Draupadi, who is Drupad’s daughter, cannot be considered to be won. No one has the right to stake her in the game.’ Karna, unable to tolerate Vikarna’s interference, got up, saying, ‘Vikarna! You have not yet achieved the stature to pronounce judgement on right and wrong. It is ironic that you consider Draupadi, after having married five men, pure! How does it matter what state she is in? You seem to forget that this is not a place for philosophical discourse. This assembly was called for the game of dice, which the Kauravas have won.’ Turning towards Draupadi, he added, ‘Yajnaseni, it is best that you move to Duryodhana’s quarters and spend your time making him comfortable. That is your dharma now!’ ‘My dharma?’ she said, looking at Yudhishthira. ‘My dharma does not exist anymore.’ Slapping his massive thighs, Duryodhana looked at Draupadi and said, ‘Here! This is your rightful place now!’ The very thought of Draupadi sitting on Duryodhana’s lap was impossible for Bheema to tolerate and he thundered, ‘I vow that I shall, with my bare hands, tear Dushasana’s chest open, for he has dared to despoil Draupadi’s hair with his

dirty hands. I shall, with my mace, smash the proud Duryodhana’s thighs into pieces. He has dared to taunt Draupadi by showing his bare thighs. I shall not rest till my vow is fulfilled.’ Bheema’s vow filled those in the assembly with fear. Karna was about to react but Duryodhana patted his back asking him to hold his temper. Reacting to Bheema’s vow, he said, ‘What vow is Bheema talking of? My slave, taking an oath to defeat me? It seems their royal clothes and the jewellery adorning their bodies make them believe that they are still kings.’ ‘Vrikodara,’ he continued, referring to an epithet of Bheema’s, denoting his slimness of waist and insatiable hunger, ‘let me remind you that you are my slave now. Draupadi, my slave should consider it her good fortune to glimpse my bare thighs, but a slave like you should not dare look up. Let me show you what happens when you transgress.’ He turned to the guards and said, ‘What are you waiting for? Disrobe them and remove their jewellery!’ All in the hall were shocked. The guards moved forward but Yudhishthira did not wait for them and promptly removed his clothes, placing the jewellery in a tray on a table nearby. His brothers followed suit. Draupadi, unable to see the state of near nudity her husbands had been reduced to, covered her eyes with her palms. Karna, who till then had not participated in the drama unfolding in front of him, ed how he had been insulted by Draupadi. Watching Draupadi, he instructed Dushasana,‘Go ahead, undress Panchali! I am quite eager to see her famed beauty, so talked of but never seen in public. What are you waiting for?’ Draupadi was unable to believe what she had just heard. Seeing Dushasana move towards her, she stepped back involuntarily, her expression a mixture of fear and disgust. Bhishma, Vidur and others, numbed by the unfolding of events, now came to their senses. Bhishma stood up, his voice quivering with anger and said, ‘Dushasana! Stop! Don’t take one more step.’ A silence fell across the hall. Bhishma, revered by one and all, had intervened and there was no option for all those present but to listen to him. ‘Shame on all of you! You call yourself kings? What kind of man sits here and watches as these acts of cowardice are carried out in front of his own eyes? Is this a gathering of

kings or a cabal of crooks? I was able to hold my silence until things were political, but we seem to have lost all honour and propriety. I cannot expect a low-born man, like that son of a charioteer, to know better but have the others forgotten their upbringing? Until Bhishma stands here, no one can dare harbour the thought of undressing a helpless woman. Dushasana, step back.’ Dushasana did not step back but looked at Duryodhana for instructions. Duryodhana was not cowed by Bhishma’s threats. He said, ‘Pitamah, who gives you the authority to command us?’ ‘What do you mean?’ Bhishma asked, taken by surprise. ‘On whose instructions are you giving us such commands?’ Duryodhana repeated, not at all perturbed. ‘Are you challenging my authority?’ Bhishma shouted, unable to control his anger. ‘You idiot! My very name, Bhishma Pitamah, is the authority. I am the true heir to this throne, and you enjoy your status because I gave up the throne. Do you dare challenge me now? Duryodhana, it seems your company of cruel and unwise companions has made you lose your ability to think. Control yourself before the damage is beyond repair.’ The answering smile on Duryodhana’s face was the reaction Bhishma had least expected. He was almost sure that his thundering voice would shut him up. Duryodhana said, trying to hold his voice steady, ‘Pitamah, it is unfortunate that you have to proclaim your lineage to exert your authority. What a pity I have to advice you to restrain your anger.’ Duryodhana’s response stunned Bhishma. His entire persona crumpled the way one sees snow on a mountain top melting in intense sunshine and come crashing down. Duryodhana had hit him where it hurt the most. Putting on his wooden slippers, he began to walk out of the hall as Vidur watched him helplessly. ‘Yuvraj, you have told the truth, however bitter it may be. It is good that you warned me. I have nothing left to say and best that I leave.’ Bhishma’s slippers echoed in the silence of the hall, and as the sound died away, Draupadi, holding on to her last hope, felt literally naked.

Bhishma’s departure was a relief for Duryodhana and he immediately indicated to Dusahana to continue. Now that the only thorn in the entire game had been removed, Dushasana walked with confident steps and took hold of an edge of the cloth covering Draupadi. Karna’s body shivered involuntarily and his throat ran dry. He was torn between the eagerness to see her and the lack of courage to withstand what he might see. It was he who had urged Dushasana to undress her. He was torn between the eagerness to see her naked body and the lack of courage to withstand the sight. Without realizing, his eyes shut on their own.

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The assembly waited, afraid to even breathe, as Dushasana readied himself to pull Draupadi’s clothes off. Draupadi stood helplessly, holding on to the cloth around her body, fearing that she would be standing with her body exposed to the world. At that moment, everyone turned to look at the main entrance and she too turned to glance in that direction. It was Krishna. Unable to believe her eyes, Draupadi stared at Krishna as he walked with slow and confident steps towards the centre of the hall. Wearing a lovely yellow silk pitambar, a flowing upper garment loosely flung over his shoulders, and his crown shining on his head, Krishna walked in with measured steps. This was Krishna in his handsome form, his long hair flowing down to his shoulders, his eyes looking at each of those present as he observed his surroundings, his gaze steady as a calm sea. His lips, as always, were parted slightly in a faint smile. Draupadi, overwhelmed at seeing a saviour when she had given up, rushed towards him and gave herself into his embrace. Krishna, stood there patiently, rubbing her back affectionately, waiting for Draupadi to calm down. After a while Draupadi recovered and asked, wiping her eyes, ‘Krishna, why are you here? Look at what my husbands like Bheema and Arjuna, who were once the very definition of courage, have been reduced to! Yudhishthira, known as the wisest, has shown his addiction for gambling. I am not disappointed that they lost their wealth, their kingdom or even themselves. But staking me in their game showed me that they have lost all sense and propriety. ‘What do I say of those I expected to come forward to save me? They seem eager to see me undressed! None in this august gathering seem to have squirmed at that thought or were stirred to take action while sitting there, watching in silence. It crossed my mind that I was lucky that I was saved of being humiliated in your presence. Alas! Luck does not seem to favour me. Why have you come here? To see me in this pathetic situation?’ ‘Calm down, Draupadi,’ Krishna said, wiping her tears. ‘I did not come here to see you in this dilemma. I had no idea that a game of dice was being hosted here. I was travelling and if I had known, I would never have allowed it to happen. Krishnaa, don’t get the situation affect you. It is not easy to undress someone. After all, the creator has dressed up a man in many different ways, some visible

and many subtle and invisible. Relationships between parents, friends, spouses, your gurus and many others are what truly hide you from embarrassment. It is true that your valiant husbands have failed to save you, and that the kings assembled here have been of no help. But do not despair! I am here now—trust me.’ Draupadi, instead of being consoled by Krishna’s words, was furious. She said, ‘It is too late, Krishna! What had to happen has happened! Despite being ekavastra, my own husband asked that I be brought here. Dushasana had the temerity to enter my room and drag me here by my hair. Krishna, I am Drupad’s daughter; yet no one present here thought that such an act was inappropriate.’ Showing Krishna her soft, silken hair, she said, ‘Madhusudan, I cannot forget the insults I bore when I was pulled by this hair. I had to endure taunts, unspoken but in the eyes of those present. Not to mention acts like showing one’s naked thighs and mocking me. What else is left to bear now? This sister of yours has nothing left to be proud of.’ Krishna was moved to tears hearing Draupadi’s lament. His hands, trembling with emotions, touched her head gently. He said, ‘Krishnaa, , the lord is aware of every thing. Even the destruction of the sinners must sadly wait for its designated time. Don’t lament the fact that your hair was touched by a stranger or that you were made to hear all kinds of things. I vow, I will not rest until I see these sinners paying for it. Their bodies will be ripped apart on the battlefield, and Kaurava women will lament the way you are today doing right now. My mind will not be at peace till this happens.’ Dushasana stepped forward angrily and said, ‘First you come here uninvited and then you have the temerity to vow …’ A single look from Krishna was enough to stop Dushasana mid-sentence. He said, ‘The valiant don’t need an invitation to attend a gathering of the weak and pusillanimous.’ Gathering his angavastram, he turned to those in attendance, his footsteps the only sound as he moved towards the centre of the hall. His eyes scanned the crowd for a moment and said, ‘Kaurava kings! Don’t be surprised at my sudden appearance. I had only come here to see this hall. I was told that its grandeur makes even the Pandava mayasabha look like a straw hut. Truly, the elaborately decorated hall transports me to the land of the Gandharvas. Having heard all

these good things, I hurried to participate in your celebrations.’ After scanning the audience once again, he said, ‘Gentlemen, this is a unique gathering. It is being presided over by none other than the Kaurava emperor, whose knowledge gives him insight that mere eyes cannot. And we have Gandhari’s son who, with his exemplary display of renunciation, is respected by one and all. Who can ignore the gurus Dronacharya and Kripacharya? The vacant throne beside the emperor’s became a symbol of sacrifice when Bhishma renounced his claim to the kingdom. We have Shakuni, whose power over the dice has no limits; Dushasana and Prativarma, who prove their loyalty by not hesitating to follow orders blindly. This sabha is filled with valiant kings, but who can forget Maharathi Karna, whose fame for charity would put even the gods to shame? Vidur’s presence has thrown a special glow of knowledge on those assembled. What an assembly this is! Instead of bathing in the waters of the five rivers, one may be purified by simply being around such illustrious souls! ‘The Pandavas peformed the rajsuya yajna in Indraprastha,’ Krishna continued. ‘Duryodhana, Karna, Shakuni, and many such kings were in attendance. Everyone had returned satisfied seeing the grandeur of mayasabha. But it seems you Kauravas were not satisfied; you wanted more. It is a reflection of your increased valour and aspirations. After all, a satisfied soul cannot dream of ruling the world, can it?’ Dushasana could not control himself and said, ‘Yes! That’s absolutely right.’ No one amongst those present wanted to acknowledge Krishna’s words. They were quiet. Realizing that he had committed a faux pas, he did not dare to look at Krishna, who continued as if he had not been interrupted. ‘The Pandavas may have performed the yajna to claim their throne, but you were born into it. You had no reason to tell the world that the Kauravas were emperors. There was no need to hold this sabha to announce your superiority over others. The yajna in itself was a good act; after all, every yajna adds to one’s good deeds. Was it not performed to tell the world that you were the true emperors? Where did you get the courage to think of undressing a helpless woman? What made you want to invite your own destruction?’ Duryodhana looked at Krishna but was unable to hold his gaze beyond a few

moments. Krishna, glanced at him with contempt and said, ‘The biggest responsibility of an emperor is to look after his subjects—they are like his children. You may hate the Pandavas, but you seem to have forgotten that the moment they were made slaves, they were your subjects. Draupadi is your subject, not just your slave. What kind of an emperor strips a hapless woman in view of the full court? Do you deserve to be called an emperor then?’ Krishna’s words rang across the hall as each one absorbed what he had said. The next moment he spoke again, his voice taking on an edge, ‘Friends, I am told that whenever someone performs a yajna to increase one’s virtues, demons descend from the skies to disrupt it. But things turned out differently here. The smoke from the flames of the yajna have given birth to demons of hubris. Gurus like Dronacharya and Kripacharya should have warned you that your infatuation for lust, addiction to fame, and arrogance for power will be the cause of your ruin. But unfortunately, their wisdom is covered by a cloak of slavery, and they would never have the courage to speak the truth. ‘You should have been clear about the purpose for which the yajna was being performed.? A king, out to capture others, is a cause of jealousy for others. The mind gets drunk on power with each new territory annexed to the growing empire and the sight of the erstwhile kings, now under one’s control, gives rise to a sense of false pride. It is overwhelming to hear the sound of the victory conches and the earth, drenched with the blood of slain enemies, gives a false impression of glory. Such a yajna is performed only after one returns victorious from battle. ‘Alms are given to the poor so that one does not become arrogant about one’s wealth. The purpose of bhajans and singing hymns is to spread piety around. It is a time to the lord whose blessings helped achieve victory. Debates by learned men add to one’s knowledge. Life is considered blessed in the presence of learned rishis. The flames of the yajna dispel the darkness caused by ignorance, giving place to pure thoughts. The presence of family, friends, and well-wishers provides a feeling of camaraderie. It is then that the true purpose of the yajna is fulfilled. ‘It is pertinent that the one performing the rajsuya yajna is pure in thought and action. Only those who have a sense of justice, ethics, balance, and largeheartedness have a right to perform such a yajna. But unfortunately, you are blind with lust, desire, anger, envy, jealousy, and distrust. How can you even

understand the virtues of peace and forgiveness? Dragging a helpless menstruating woman into a public hall leaves a permanent blot on your honour. You have shown your true colours when you defeated Yudhishthira by tricking him into playing a game of dice. Who will call you an emperor? With these vile acts, you have shown that you have no right to stake a claim to the throne. ‘The mayasabha erected by the Pandavas was truly meant to be for pleasure. It showcased the fact that the five senses that we give so much importance to can be fooled easily. But this hall erected for the game of dice would not have a place even in hell. It is not surprising that petty and weak-minded men did not have any hesitation before thinking of touching a woman.’ Duryodhana glared at Krishna angrily, but Krishna continued undeterred. ‘Do my words anger you, Duryodhana?’ Pointing at the Pandavas, he said, ‘Don’t think the wise Yudhishthira, the valiant Parth or the powerful Bheema are silent because they have reconciled to their loss. It is a sign of the wisdom they have earned after the rajsuya yajna—their silence is not weakness. But you will not understand that. Don’t you realize that nothing good can emerge out of a yajna meant to defeat rather than celebrate victory and a game played to cheat?’ Krishna took a few steps forwards and realized that he had stepped on one of the dice lying on the floor. He looked at the dice for a brief moment before he kicked it away in disgust. ‘Did you not decide to invite Yudhishthira to indulge in gambling knowing that his Kshatriya dharma would not allow him to refuse such a challenge? But a true Kshatriya does not gamble with a pair of lowly dice charmed by someone’s evil powers. He shows his prowess as a gambler when he challenges a gathering of valiant warriors assembled at a swayamvar and manages to elope with the lady, knowing that losing would mean losing the love of his life forever. His penchant for gambling shows its true colours when he jumps into the battlefield without calculating the enemy’s strength. If he wins, he rules the world. If he loses, he is on his way to heaven. If a Kshatriya must gamble, let him gamble in such a manner. What kind of gambling is this game of dice? ‘Is this gathering worthy of being called a royal sabha? How can you call this an august gathering where justice is blind, the weak are penalized and dharma is

ignored? To defeat the Pandavas through deceit and to insult Draupadi by exposing her to all present, is an act of cowardice. It is a victory earned through Shakuni’s sleight of hand. A Kshatriya would never be able to hold his head up having won in such a manner. ‘You had an opportunity to salvage your lost prestige had you shown Draupadi comion. Instead, you chose to undress her. You cannot be called an emperor. Nay, you cannot even be called human! There is no way to wash away the sins of this heinous act. I fear even the lord himself would not be able to help you.’ Krishna paused for a moment before he continued, raising his forefinger threateningly in the air, ‘I think I must introduce myself. I slayed the cruel Kansa, who prided himself on being an emperor. I created the circumstances leading to the death of the invincible Jarasandha. Some of you might have heard of my disc beheading Shisupala, who had the temerity to insult me despite repeated warnings. I don’t need the of my army to show you my might. Let everyone here know one thing clearly: Draupadi is my sister, and I stand here to protect her. If anyone ignores this, I shall not be responsible for whatever happens then. ‘Blind Kauravas! I feel ashamed to stand here and talk to you. But I am curious to see the depth of your foolishness. My sister here, standing next to her brother, awaits your decision.’ Krishna finally stopped. He knew no one would have the courage to say anything. The silence which prevailed was deafening and no one stood up even to offer his seat to Krishna, lest his action may be mistaken for a challenge. It was Vidur who stood up first, tears flowing down his cheeks as he asked Krishna to take his seat. Krishna accepted Vidur’s gesture without speaking.

22

Krishna’s words had stunned everyone into silence in the sabha. Duryodhana and Karna did not dare look in his direction. It was a pity to see Dhritarashtra squirming between the truth Krishna had spoken and the way he had mocked his sons. He trembled with fear thinking of the repercussions Krishna’s threat may lead to. The earlier excitement of the sabha had vanished, and each person was anxious to leave. Looking at each other, they fiddled in their places. ‘Krishna,’ Dhritarashtra finally managed to speak, wiping the sweat from his face. ‘I am overwhelmed by your words. It was I who had given permission for this game of dice to take place, thinking that it would be mere entertainment. I had hoped that it would be another opportunity for the cousins to meet and share some laughter and camaraderie. Had I known the outcome of this game, I would never have allowed it to occur. I am grateful that you have prevented me and my sons from having committed a grave sin. You have saved us!’ Turning to the Pandavas, Dhritarashtra called out, ‘Draupadi!’ Draupadi was surprised to hear her name and looked at Krishna, who nodded slightly. She said, ‘Command me, Maharaj.’ ‘Who am I to command you, my dear? I have lost all right to do so. Please don’t be angry at me. I shall always be guilty for what happened today. I hope you don’t blame me for being a blind, helpless man who could do nothing to protect you against the despicable acts of my sons. You are as dear to me as my own daughter. I would like to redeem some of my sins by granting you a boon. Ask, whatever you wish to.’ Draupadi looked at Krishna and was surprised that he was back to his usual composed self, a slight smile playing on his lips. She turned to glance at her husbands and her anger resurfaced. ‘Maharaj, thank you for granting me a boon. Let all my husbands and children be free from bondage.’ There was a gasp from the audience. Dhritarashtra said, ‘So be it! I would like to grant you one more boon. Ask for what is on your mind!’

‘Let the Pandavas get their weapons and chariots back.’ ‘As you wish, Yajnaseni. Why do you hesitate? Ask for your kingdom and all your wealth. I shall grant it willingly. I am giving you one more boon. Ask for whatever you want!’ ‘I am honoured, Maharaj, but your kindness is more than enough for me. Greed is the first step to destruction—I don’t want anything else.’ Turning towards her husbands, she said, ‘If my husbands are still the famed warriors they have always been, they will earn their kingdom and all they have lost back with their strength and valour. They will know the true value of their kingdom when they earn it themselves. I am happy with whatever you have granted me.’ The audience was stunned by Draupadi’s words. No one spoke. Karna was the first one to react. He had been truly impressed seeing Draupadi’s sense of self-respect and grace. He realized that despite all the insults she had borne, including his own vile words, she had not allowed herself to be swayed by Dhitarashtra’s offer. He said, overwhelmed by her words, ‘You are truly remarkable, Draupadi! Your wisdom puts you above all. Like a boat saving men from the swirling waters of a river, you rescued them. You have lived up to your name today!’ The Pandavas in the meanwhile had gathered their clothes and weapons. Dhritarashtra said, ‘Yudhishthira, I hope you go home without rancour and manage your kingdom in peace. Please don’t harbour any ill will towards your cousins, and continue to show them your affection. May you always be wise as ever!’ Krishna got up and holding Panchali’s hand, he escorted her out of the hall. Duryodhana watched helplessly as Draupadi walked away. All his efforts to decimate the Pandavas had been ruined by Krishna’s arrival. He stood up with a sudden burst of anger and energy. He could not afford to lose a battle he had nearly won. But at that moment Krishna turned and looked at him. Krishna’s searing glance said it all, forcing Duryodhana to sit down and turn his gaze away. By the time he looked up again, Krishna and Draupadi had left.

23

A visibly tired Dhritarashtra took Sanjaya’s help to leave the hall. A sudden murmur erupted amongst those present, and Dronacharya and Kripacharya left without saying a word. Duryodhana, still fuming at the way his game had been disrupted, threw an angry glance at Shakuni and they both left together. Within minutes, all those present streamed out of the hall. Karna continued to sit where he was. He saw Vidur get up and leave and finally, he was alone in the hall. He looked at the splendour of the building, the magnificence of the throne now lying vacant and a sudden thought filled him with sadness. At the end of the day, all this magnificence will remain where it is! Why then does one harbour thoughts of jealousy and arrogance? Why should one hold grudges? Will it relieve one from the eternal cycle of death and rebirth? These thoughts troubled Karna as he walked down the steps leading to the centre of the hall where the game had been played. His feet sunk into the soft carpet when he noticed Shakuni’s dice lying scattered. He noticed the design of two open palms engraved on the dice. Palms! They may have led to the victory in the game, but they remained empty! The game is over, the board is a mere plank of wood and the dice pieces of ivory. How easy it was for a man to stake his entire life on the throw of the dice. Who makes this happen? Krishna had arrived at exactly the right moment. What brought him there? Karna smiled ironically as he recalled the turn of the events. Would he, discarded at birth by his own mother, understand the mysteries of life? He bent down to pick up one of the dice when he suddenly withdrew his hand. Like a child putting his hand in a hedge to pick up a ball and then realizing that there was a cobra curled up there, he withdrew his hand, as a strange fear gripped his mind. Lying on the dice was a long, dark strand of hair. The strand pierced his heart with an intensity which surprised him. In the heat of the moment, with the forces of revenge propelling him, he had lost his balance for an instant. Would he have had the courage to look at Draupadi’s nudity? While pouring ghee over the sacrificial fire, one must be careful not to let their hands too close to the fire lest the fire burn the very hand which feeds it. How had he forgotten that he could not feed the fire of revenge with lust? But was it lust? No! There was not a trace of it in his mind. What was it then?

However hard he tried, the answer eluded him. Karna did not dare to touch the strand of hair. He stood up to walk out of the hall. He did not want to stay there even a moment longer. Walking down the wide expanse of steps, he saw Vidur hurrying towards Krishna’s golden chariot. Halfway down the steps, Karna saw Krishna talking to Vidur. Krishna had noticed Karna at the steps as he spoke to Vidur. ‘I don’t want to blame anyone, Vidur. I fear the outcome of whatever has happened will not be very good. I can clearly see destruction ahead. I don’t feel I want to stay here any longer. I will go back to Dwarka!’ Adjusting his angavastram over his shoulders, Krishna got into the chariot, which moved ahead immediately. Vidur walked up the steps rapidly, trying to avoid Karna’s gaze. He stumbled over his dhoti but Karna managed to reach him and prevented him from falling. ‘I am fine, Karna! After all, a maid’s son is used to stumbling and falling. He never gets to wear clothes which fit him perfectly, you know.’ Without waiting for Karna to react, he continued walking up the stairs. Karna murmured, ‘I understand. A charioteer’s son has not yet learnt to maintain his balance either.’ Karna looked at the cloud of dust left behind by Krishna’s chariot. The wheels had left marks in the dust. Karna mounted his own chariot and went to his palace following the tracks left behind by Krishna. Dhrum, waiting at the door, received his brother and asked, ‘Is it true what I heard?’ ‘I don’t know what you have heard. I am tired and would like to rest now.’ Karna’s troubled mind was unhappy, his empty resting chambers adding to his turmoil. Hearing footsteps he turned to see Vrushali walking into the chamber. ‘Is the game over?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I am told Krishna had come?’ ‘That is right. How did you find out?’

‘I saw his chariot by a little while ago.’ Karna was quiet for a while. Vrushali then asked, ‘Will you eat something?’ ‘No. I am not hungry’ ‘I am told Draupadi was forced to undress.’ ‘Luckily, that did not happen.’ ‘You mean she was lucky.’ ‘It was our luck that it did not happen, Vrushali. We needed luck on our side to prevent us from getting wiped out. She had Krishna to protect her and prevent a calamity.’ ‘Calamity?’ ‘That is right, Vrushali. Only two people have a right to see a woman naked: her husband and her baby. It was our good fortune that Krishna prevented a heinous crime.’ ‘What would have happened had he not arrived?’ A shiver ran down Karna’s spine as he said, his voice surprisingly calm, ‘Vrushali, you would have lost your husband. I would have had no choice but to kill myself.’ Vrushali clapped her hands over her mouth, unable to bear the thought. Karna flung himself on the bed saying, ‘Vrushali, bring me wine—lots of it.’ But by the time Vrushali returned, Karna had fallen asleep.

The next morning, Karna got up with a start, his body drenched in sweat. He said, wiping his forehead, ‘What a terrible dream! I dreamt that the Pandavas are going into the forest.’ ‘How are you dreaming of what is happening as we speak?’ Vrushali asked. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘The Pandavas, having lost another game of dice, are now moving to the forest.’ ‘That cannot be! I saw them leaving the hall.’ ‘They were on the way to Indraprastha when Yudhishthira agreed to a final round. The bet was that they would either get back everything or they would go into the forest for twelve years followed by one year of staying incognito.’ ‘That’s why Yuvraj left in a hurry with Shakuni Maharaj.’ ‘The whole city is out on the streets. The Pandavas are on their way to the forest now,’ Vrushali said, as she moved towards the balcony. ‘No, Vrushali. Don’t go out. One should see the rainbow when it first appears, not when it is fading away.’ An exasperated Karna picked up the pitcher and poured wine into a goblet.

24

It was night, and despite being drunk, Karna’s mind was not at ease. The lamps in the palace burnt brightly. Karna moved towards the door when Vrushali asked, ‘Are you going out?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘You have not eaten anything since this morning …’ ‘What will happen if I don’t eat for a day? Some others are probably not going to eat for twelve years. Vrushali, ask the servants to ready my chariot.’ Going down the steps of the palace, Karna saw Adhirath, Radhai, Dhrum, Shatrunjay and Vrishaketu outside. Vrishaketu was recalling the events of the afternoon and said, ‘They all went to the border to see them off. Everyone had tears in their eyes.’ ‘But the Pandavas were not crying. In fact, Yudhishthira Maharaj asked everyone to be patient and the Pandavas made their goodbyes with smiles on their faces.’ Adhirath let out a deep sigh. ‘This is how fate plays out! They had been declared invincible after completing the rajsuya yajna. Now, having lost a game, they have been asked to leave for the forest!’ Karna cleared his throat announcing his arrival. Adhirath asked, ‘Are you going somewhere?’ ‘To the royal palace.’ ‘Oh, that is good. Will you bring me the dice? I am curious to see them.’ ‘Father!’ ‘They are fantastic, I hear, with all the powers one can dream of.’ ‘Father!’ Karna exclaimed again, knowing his father was taunting him.

‘Don’t call me father, Karna. I had brought you home, treating you as a gift from the gods when I found you at the river. You were the harbinger of good times, and Dhrum was born soon after. We believed you had brought us good fortune, but that’s not really true any longer. Your deeds make us hide our faces now.’ ‘My deeds? What did I do?’ ‘They say you were the one who urged Duryodhana to invite the Pandavas to the game.’ ‘What? It is not true, Father! I advised him to go to war. I had no role in the game.’ ‘The fact is Yuvraj would never have agreed had you put your foot down.’ ‘When did Yuvraj become so compliant?’ Karna asked, laughing. ‘Radheya, I know you and I know Yuvraj equally well. He does not have the courage to go against your wishes. But you allowed things to happen. That’s precisely your sin, Karna. You can fool the world but what about your heart? You cannot trick it—no amount of wine will help!’ Karna was speechless and left without saying anything. He got into the chariot and asked his charioteer to go to the royal palace immediately. When Karna reached the royal palace, he was told that Yuvraj and Shakuni were in the hall where the game had been hosted. He smiled ironically and moved towards it. Climbing up the steps, he reached the door and stopped for a moment. Duryodhana and Shakuni were seated at the centre, playing on a silver board. Apart from the lamps all over, two six-foot tall lamps burnt near the stage. The two were busy drinking wine as they played a game of dice. Duryodhana threw the dice and shouted, ‘Mama-ji, I won!’ ‘That is right, my dear! I have lost the precious ring I had staked.’ Duryodhana laughed heartily. The maid, ever alert, filled up his goblet the moment Duryodhana raised his hand in the air. Wiping his lips with the back of his palm, he said, ‘I don’t understand how that idiot Yudhishthira lost again.’

‘One needs to have the power which mesmerize the dice. Quite obviously, he does not it. Today, the dice are commanded by you. All right, I will stake this precious necklace,’ Shakuni said, touching the necklace around his neck. ‘What about you?’ ‘Me,’ Karna said, entering the hall. ‘I am his necklace.’ Duryodhana and Shakuni turned to look, surprised to find him there. Getting up hurriedly, Duryodhana said, ‘Come, my friend! Let us celebrate. The Pandavas have left for twelve long years in exile and another one to be spent in hiding, all thanks to Mama-ji’s prowess.’ ‘How did this happen?’ Duryodhana laughed. The wine he had consumed was showing its effect. He said, ‘We had kept it a secret from you. Mama-ji said you would oppose the idea if you knew. Isn’t that true?’ Karna nodded. ‘I knew Mama-ji’s judgement would not be wrong. The moment the Pandavas left, we requested Father to another round and he concurred. The stupid Yudhishthira accepted our challenge. As expected, he lost, and now they are out —forever!’ Duryodhana put his hand on Karna’s shoulder. ‘You know! I played with Mama-ji and I won. He was the one who lost.’ ‘A yuvraj is never supposed to lose,’ Karna said. ‘Oh! You don’t believe me? Ask him!’ ‘Angaraj, Yuvraj is telling the truth. I did lose.’ ‘Well done! It seems we have made a lot of progress in a day then. I suppose if you continue to play in the same manner, in another twelve years, you will become an expert and have the power to control the dice.’ Duryodhana laughed. Ignoring him, Karna continued, ‘There is just one more thing you need to do. Set up a shop selling wine here. We already have the gambling den—the shop would complete the stage.’

‘Are you mocking me?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘I am no one to mock you, Yuvraj. Now there is nothing to fear. Once the Pandavas return from their forest sojourn, you can send them back for another twelve years.’ Looking at the maid, he asked her to fill up Duryodhana’s goblet. Duryodhana flung the goblet away, shouting, ‘Don’t I have a right to celebrate in peace for just one day?’ ‘You won’t be troubled from tomorrow, Yuvraj.’ ‘Why do you say so?’ ‘I am returning to Champanagri. I came in to seek your permission to leave.’ Duryodhana held Karna’s arm tightly, and his fingers dug deep into his flesh. He said, ‘No! You cannot leave.’ ‘Do you fear that the Pandavas will return?’ ‘Fear?’ Duryodhana asked, releasing Karna’s arm. ‘Is that the only thing you know?’ ‘Angaraj, don’t be so pessimistic. Haven’t you seen the Pandavas going into the forest wearing nothing but a piece of cloth each?’ Shakuni asked. ‘And did you see all of Hastinapur shedding tears, following them?’ Karna countered. ‘They cry today but will laugh tomorrow.’ ‘At whom?’ ‘What?’ Shakuni asked, surprised. ‘Shakuni Maharaj, you can win a game of dice once. Twelve years will by in the blink of an eye and when the Pandavas return, the very people who saw them off today will welcome them with open arms, for by then they will be disgusted with your gambling dens and wine parlours, making people dull and lazy.’

‘Angaraj!’ Shakuni shouted. ‘Mama-ji, your troubles have not ended just because you have sent the Pandavas away to the forest. You will need to remove the affection the people here have for them.’ ‘I will do that,’ Duryodhana said. ‘And how do you propose to do so? The dice won’t help. I hope you don’t lose yourself to this addiction. that you are the same Duryodhana who had the courage to elope with your beloved from her swayamvar. You had the largeheartedness to gift away the kingdom of Angdesh to a friend in need. Your prowess with a mace is as strong as it was when Balarama blessed you. Isn’t it a tragedy that such a prince indulges in gambling? A kingdom does not run on Shakuni’s prowess to throw the dice. The results of a battlefield are not decided sitting at a game board.’ ‘Enough! Angaraj, don’t you dare speak another word. I am shocked that instead of thanking me, I am being taunted. Yuvraj, you need to decide now; are you going to me or Radheya?’ Shakuni said, his voice quivering. Duryodhana was dumbstruck. How would he choose? Karna came forward and said, ‘Shakuni Maharaj, pardon me. I made a mistake.’ Shakuni was relieved to hear Karna’s apology. A difficult situation had been averted. Karna looked at Duryodhana and asked, ‘Where is your sword?’ ‘Why would I carry a sword while I am playing dice?’ Duryodhana asked, a little surprised. ‘What about your crown?’ ‘This isn’t the royal court—why would I wear my crown?’ ‘I hope you are wearing your armour at least?’ Karna persisted. ‘What is wrong with you? Have you had too much wine?’ Duryodhana asked.

‘One wears armour to the battlefield!’ ‘Precisely! Yuvraj, one wears one’s dress and armour as per one’s need. Twelve years is not a long period, Yuvraj. We need to ensure that our armoury and stables for elephants and horses are ready to take on any challenge. We have a large task ahead.’ ‘You are right, my friend!’ Duryodhana said, flinging away the dice. ‘I give you my word—I will not touch these again. I will never resort to them for any work.’ Shakuni, angered at the way Duryodhana had insulted the dice, got up, saying, ‘Yuvraj, I must leave now. Please give me your permission.’ ‘Mama-ji, I will always remain indebted to you. Please consider this your kingdom. The treasury will always be open for whatever you need,’ said Duryodhana. Duryodhana and Karna soon followed Shakuni as he left without saying a word. Karna returned home after dropping Duryodhana at his palace. It was past midnight when he arrived at his home to find Adhirath waiting for him, a lamp in his hand. Karna asked, ‘Father, why are you still awake?’ ‘I was waiting for you,’ Adhirath said. ‘Vasushen, I hope you are not angry with me. I have never scolded you before, but …’ A shiver of happiness spread through Karna’s body. Adhirath had used his childhood name Vasushen. Hugging his father he said, ‘No, Father, a child needs a father’s reprimand once a while. Please rest now. You are going to be very busy starting tomorrow.’ ‘Occupied?’ ‘That’s right. Now you will have the task of building chariots, stables, and many other things.’ Karna did not notice the smile of contentment on his father’s face as he moved towards his quarters.

25

Karna had not exaggerated. Hastinapur vibrated with a renewed energy. The workshops producing chariots and weapons were in constant production. All the artisans and workmen who had left the capital had returned and were fruitfully employed. The armoury was busy producing different kinds of swords, bows and arrows. The elephant and horse stables had put a plan for breeding the best breeds in place. The ashrams were busy preparing warriors for tomorrow. Under the able guidance of Duryodhana and Karna, eighteen such workshops and factories were working day and night. While Karna was busy helping Duryodhana, Vrushasena was studying the art of war along with Duryodhana’s son at the ashrams. And so, the years rolled by.

One night, Duryodhana and Karna sat discussing their plans when Duryodhana said, ‘I am tired of all this. I need a break.’ ‘Yuvraj, shall we go hunting? It is the right time of the year too.’ ‘That is a great suggestion! It would be a good change for all of us.’ At that moment, a servant came in to announce the arrival of Shakuni. Both Duryodhana and Karna stood up to receive him. ‘I hardly see you these days, Mama-ji. I hope all is well?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘I know nothing other than playing dice, and you don’t play anymore. How will we meet then?’ Karna realized that it was a taunt directed at him. He said, ‘Maharaj, don’t be angry with me. I know I have said things which I should not have. But if my elders don’t pardon me, who will?’ Shakuni put his hand on Karna’s shoulder and said, ‘Don’t feel bad, Karna. I was just pulling your leg. You are both doing great work and I am sure the people will soon have no memories of the Pandavas.’ ‘The poor Pandavas!’ Duryodhana said, laughing. ‘God knows which part of the forests they are roaming around in.’ ‘I am told they are currently residing in the part where a lot of wild animals roam,’ Shakuni said. ‘Really? How did you find out?’ Karna asked. ‘I had gone to meet Dhritarashtra Maharaj and a Brahmin, who goes from kingdom to kingdom telling stories from the Puranas was present. He told Maharaj about the way the Pandavas were struggling to make ends meet. Maharaj was in tears hearing their troubles.’ ‘I hope Father did not invite them here,’ Duryodhana said, worried that his father may have been moved by pity.

‘On the contrary, he reiterated that he had no intention of giving even a penny to the Pandavas.’ ‘Really?’ Duryodhana said, happy at his father’s response. ‘In fact, the news disturbed him, and he is worried that they may cause the downfall of Kauravas. He is a worried man.’ ‘His fears are unfounded,’ Duryodhana said. ‘By the time the Pandavas return from the forest, our strength will have multiplied!’ ‘Yuvraj, why not go on a hunting expedition to the same forest where the Pandavas are currently staying?’ Shakuni suggested. ‘It would be wonderful to witness their discomfort on seeing our luxuries while they wallow in their meek existence, eating fruits and vegetables they scrounge for in the forest.’ ‘That’s right,’ Duryodhana said, though not fully convinced. ‘But will Father agree to it?’ Shakuni said, ‘Leave that to me. I will convince him that we need to go there to take stock of our cattle.’ The next day when Duryodhana and Karna went to meet Dhritarashtra, they found that Shakuni had already arrived. On cue, as planned earlier, a herdsman called Ballav came in and talked about the cattle in the forest. Shakuni looked at Karna, who said, ‘Maharaj, I have a request. It is a good time to go hunting. Yuvraj has been toiling hard and needs a break. With your permission, we would like to go to the forest on a hunting expedition. It will also give us a chance to take stock of the cattle. It has been pending for a long time and we can mix business with pleasure.’ ‘I cannot allow that, Radheya,’ Dhritarashtra said. ‘Why not, Father?’ Duryodhana asked. ‘The Pandavas are currently residing in that part of the forest.’ ‘Maharaj, we have nothing to do with them. We would be busy with the census and our hunting,’ Shakuni added.

Bhishmacharya, seeing Dhritarashtra lost in thoughts said, ‘Shakuni, there are many other forests where one can engage in hunting. Why should you go deliberately to where the Pandavas live in? I think you should not put yourself in unnecessary trouble.’ ‘What trouble?’ Duryodhana said. ‘The Pandavas are forest dwellers. What threat can they be to us? And we don’t believe in attacking those who are helpless. We are going to visit with our families. We have no plans of meeting them. We do our job and return—that’s all!’ ‘Well, if that’s the case, go ahead,’ Dhritarashtra nodded. The plans were readied for the visit. Within a few days, a caravan of chariots, elephants and horses streamed towards the dense forest.

26

Each day after they left, Dhritarashtra would receive news of their progress and was satisfied at the way things were unfolding. Shakuni, Karna and the others were busy with the census and within a week, having completed the task, Duryodhana and the others moved towards the deep forest on their hunting expedition.

The satisfaction which Dhritarashtra had been enjoying did not last for long. A piece of worrying news soon reached the royal palace. It so happened that some Gandharvas residing in that part of the forest had attacked them without any warning and captured Duryodhana and a few other family including the women. Luckily, the Pandavas residing nearby, found out and arrived in time. Apparently, Arujna rescued Duryodhana and everyone else. Dhritarashtra was enraged on hearing this while Vidur, Bhishma and Drona had the chance to praise Arjuna’s bravery in the royal court. Duryodhana soon returned to Hastinapur and Karna, after seeing him off at the royal palace, reached his palace to find everyone, much to his surprise, avoiding his gaze. He asked Vrushali that night, when he found time to be alone, ‘Why is everyone so angry?’ ‘Is that so?’ Vrushali answered, clearly avoiding the question. Karna laughed loudly and said, ‘Well, I am happy.’ ‘What are you happy about? Everyone feels ashamed and here you are, laughing away,’ Vrushali erupted. ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Everyone knows what you did—or did not do.’ ‘Vasu, you should know that there is one thing common between defeat and victory: both get exaggerated beyond reality.’ ‘So what happened in the forest? Was it not true?’ ‘It was true but exaggerated,’ Karna said, holding Vrushali’s hand. ‘Vasu, having finished our task, we decided to swim in a beautiful lake. The servants had gone ahead to get things ready. Little did we realize that the Gandharvas had also come there to enjoy the lake with their womenfolk. The Gandharvas sent our servants back which angered Duryodhana as the forest rightfully belongs to the Kauravas, and he decided to take them head on. I was against the idea but seeing his determination, I volunteered to attack the Gandharvas.’

‘What happened then?’ ‘The Gandharvas are experts at aerial warfare and the moment I entered into battle, they fired arrows at me from all sides. I could not see them while my soldiers were getting injured. They systematically attacked my chariot, starting with the roof, the wheels, till it finally broke down. Vikarna saved my life.’ ‘What about Yuvraj?’ ‘Vikarna and I were wounded and found shelter. The others too were scattered and looking for ways to save themselves. When Yuvraj heard that I had been defeated, he marched upon the Gandharvas but was soon captured. It was Arjuna who finally rescued us.’ ‘You know everyone here is blaming you?’ ‘What for?’ ‘You left Yuvraj to fend for himself and retreated without a fight.’ ‘Vasu, only those who have never been to a battlefield can speak like that. A battlefield, which looks like a romantic bed of pink roses to the common man is really soiled red with the blood of the dead. With victory, one does not hear laughter on the field but only the tormented shrieks of the wounded. The victor knows that death stalks the battleground and that only he can hear its stealthy footsteps as it lurks in all corners.’ Karna was lost in his world as he recalled the events of the past few days. ‘Vasu, I am proud of my valour and to bear pain is second nature for me. I can challenge death, but there came a moment when the arrows rained on me and I could see nothing. All I could hear was the mocking laughter of the Gandharvas. I sensed my end; and my pride, my strength and my resolve vanished. I ran to save my life. It was Vikarna’s chariot which helped me to escape.’ Karna turned to see Vrushali teary-eyed. He said, pointing at her, ‘Vrushali, these tears saved me. Do you know that?’ Vrushali looked at him in surprise. Karna continued, ‘When the enemy had surrounded me and defeat loomed large,

I ed your face and a strong desire to live reawakened within me. I forgot my pride, my ego, my vanity, and the only reason I wanted to live was to see you once again. If one such strong attachment makes me do this, I wondered what would be the state of the warriors who have many such people who give them affection and unconditional love. Standing at the edge of death, I realized the importance of having you in my life, Vasu.’ Vrushali, almost suffocated by Karna’s love, said, ‘Lord, all my desires are fulfilled.’ Outside the window, the brightly lit sky was sprinkled with stars making it a lovely night.

27

The next evening, Vikarna called upon Karna. ‘Angaraj, you have been summoned to the royal palace by Maharaj. They believe you ran away from your duties of protecting Yuvraj!’ ‘Vikarna, you know it is not true! You were with me when it all happened,’ Karna said. ‘Well …’ Vikarna said a little hesitantly, ‘there is talk of your kingdom being taken away from you.’ ‘I have earned Angadesh, Vikarna. If Yuvraj asks me to, I will gladly give it away but no one else has the right to ask for it. Let us see what is in store for us.’

The durbar was full as everyone waited for Karna to arrive. As soon as he entered, the murmuring stopped. Karna walked in with his spine erect, watching everyone calmly as he progressed towards the throne. He saluted the emperor. He could clearly see Bhishma, Drona and Vidur watching him with contempt. Duryodhana stood with his head bent. Shakuni and Dushasana seemed to avoid looking at Karna directly. Bhishma said, the moment Karna finished his salutations, ‘Samrat, Karna is here per your command.’ Dhritarashtra’s voice sounded weak and feeble. ‘Pitamah, his actions have put us to shame and I don’t feel like talking to him. You may speak on my behalf.’ ‘It gives me no pleasure to say these things,’ Bhishma began. ‘Yuvraj cannot be blamed for what happened. There is only one person to be blamed.’ Pointing at Karna, he said, ‘This sutaputra, Radheya!’ Karna looked at Bhishma and smiled ironically. He knew that Bhishma, despite knowing the truth, was only looking for a chance to put him down. His smile enraged Bhishma further who thundered, ‘Radheya, this is not a lowcaste gathering where you can behave the way you wish. Please this is the royal durbar where arrogance has no place. I had objected to your plans of visiting the forest to take stock of the cattle and to hunt. And now, your bravado has landed us in trouble. Yet, I am surprised that despite all the shame, there does not seem to be an inch of regret on your face.’ ‘I would like to know what I have done which I should feel ashamed of.’ ‘You mean to say that you committed no crime? What temerity! What can be more shameful than running away, leaving Yuvarj and his family to the mercy of the Gandharvas? The Pandavas, who you defeated through deceit and who were made to roam the forests, came to the rescue. It is thanks to the mighty Arjuna’s prowess that Duryodhana is standing here alive—one must praise Arjuna’s largeheartedness in saving Duryodhana. And yet you …’ ‘Pitamah, enough praise for the Pandavas! They are Kauravas’ servants and if

they came forward to rescue their masters, it should be seen as their duty to do so. You may say that they are blessed for having done their job.’ ‘Radheya!’ Bhishma shouted. Drona stepped in and said, ‘Pitamah, I urge you, control your anger. After all, only gentlemen can feel ashamed. Where would Karna learn all these manners from? Now you know why I was against calling him into the royal durbar.’ ‘Enough of this nonsense!’ Karna said, his eyes burning with anger. ‘Acharya, I have not committed any crime. We were not deliberately searching for the Pandavas and did not meet them either. It was when Yuvraj and his family were planning to enter the lake that the Gandharvas attacked.’ ‘And you decided to run away, leaving them behind? You ran to save your own life,’ Dronacharya said, taunting Karna. ‘That is partially true,’ Karna said. ‘It was Vikarna and I who first faced the Gandharvas. Yuvraj was not with us then. When we realized that we were no match for them, we had no option but to retreat.’ ‘And what you could not achieve, the mighty Arjuna managed to do so in an instant. He saved Yuvraj after winning over the Gandharvas, didn’t he?’ Bhishma asked. ‘He did manage to save him, but whether he won them over in a battle or begged for their release, I do not know.’ ‘Angaraj!’ ‘You don’t waste a single moment praising the Pandavas. None of you seem surprised at the coincidences of our visit to the forest, the attack by the Gandharvas, and how Arjuna suddenly comes into the picture to save Yuvraj! Since when did Arjuna become invincible?’ ‘You would not know his prowess, Angaraj! A low-born man with a narrow mindset like yours cannot recognize the true warrior in Arjuna. You haven’t seen his real powers.’ ‘Precisely! Let me explain, Pitamah. The Gandharva who captured Yuvraj is

called Chitrarath. Did it not surprise any of you that the Gandharvas should come to that lake in the first place? It wasn’t as if all the lakes in heaven had dried up! Why didn’t Arjuna come to the rescue when Chitrarath attacked me and my soldiers? Why was his famed prowess not on display?’ ‘The Pandavas need not showcase their powers,’ Bhishma said. ‘Radheya, they conducted the rajsuya yajna, in case you have forgotten.’ ‘Pitamah, no one turns all powerful and invincible overnight. It is a known fact that they could conduct the yajna thanks to the of Krishna’s mighty chaturang army. You were the one who invited Krishna for the agrapooja in case you have forgotten.’ Bhishma did not answer. He knew Karna was right. Vidur asked, ‘Are you saying Arjuna did not rescue Yuvraj?’ ‘Chitrarath and Arjuna are old friends. You should have seen the way they hugged and embraced each other in joy. Yuvraj witnessed himself.’ ‘Karna, what exactly are you trying to say?’ Dhritarashtra finally asked, unable to stay silent. ‘Maharaj, the Pandavas played a key role in all that transpired. It was Chitrarath’s plan to put us through this, and it gives us a glimpse of the hatred the Pandavas harbour against us while in their forest residence. Our respected elders conveniently choose to ignore the fact that the Pandavas knew of our visit well in advance. But all they can do is call me into the durbar and blame me for how things transpired—no one seems to question the Pandavas.’ Karna’s blunt assessment changed the mood of those present. Duryodhana smiled, knowing that Karna had managed to convey the truth. Dhritarashtra asked, ‘You may be right, Karna, but that does not take away the insults we had to bear.’ ‘One cannot be sure of victory all the time. No doubt we were defeated by the Gandharvas, but that does not mean the Pandavas humiliated us. No one in their sane minds would blame us. We can perform a mahayajna if you wish.’

Vidur stepped in and said, ‘Mahayajna? Do you have any idea about the kind of strain the royal treasury is going through thanks to your relentless building of chariots, arms and armoury, and filling up the stables? Who is going to recoup the depleting reserves?’ ‘I can do it alone, Pitamah.’ ‘Really?’ Bhishma asked disbelievingly. Karna did not react immediately. He said, after a while, ‘I will do it—not for the lure of money but to wipe away the mark of shame from my friend’s face. I will march out soon and perform a yajna grander than the Pandavas’. I have one request: When I return victorious, I hope I will be received in the royal durbar in a manner befitting my achievements. I shall step back into the durbar only when I return with my head held high.’ ‘Karna, may you be victorious,’ Duryodhana said, hugging him tightly. They both left the durbar together.

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Karna got busy gathering his troops. Seeing the number of elephants, horses and chariots being assembled, it was evident to the residents of Hastinapur that a huge campaign was being planned. On the day of departure, Karna reached Hastinapur with his army. It was time for the combined armies to leave. His troops waited at the gates of Hastinapur, while Karna went to the royal palace to seek the blessings of Dhritarashtra and Gandhari. With Chakradhar as his charioteer, he rode along the streets where all the citizens had come out cheer him. At own his palace, he sought Adhirath and Radhai’s blessings while Vrushali gave him a traditional farewell with lamps. As soon as he reached the gates, his vast army, waiting for him, welcomed him with a deafening cheer. Karna was on his way to victory now! The first one he attacked was Drupad who, after an intense battle, surrendered leaving Karna with a huge booty of gems, jewellery and immense wealth. The moment Drupad surrendered, all kings in the neighbourhood thought it wise to follow suit rather than attract Karna’s ire. After capturing all territories in the north right up to the foothills of the Himalayas, he turned eastwards annexing Vanga, Shundik, Kalanga, Magadh and many other kingdoms under his dominion. It was now time to turn southwards where he encountered Rukmini, who dared challenge Karna but soon enough realized the fallacy of it and surrendered. The trumpets and conch shells announced the arrival of Karna and his army at Hastinapur much in advance. The whole city was agog with excitement to welcome the returning soldiers. Duryodhana, eager to receive his dear friend, waited impatiently at the royal palace. It was noon when Duryodhana, unable to wait in the palace, came to the borders of the city, his eyes scanning the horizon. He did not have to wait for long as he soon spotted a rider coming along. The rider dismounted as soon as he reached Duryodhana and after saluting, he said, ‘Angaraj Karna is within sighting distance, Maharaj.’ Out of joy, Duryodhana took off his gold bracelet and handed it to the messenger. He got into his chariot and rushed to a nearby hillock to see the approaching army. The huge, victorious contingent, spread a few miles across,

marched slowly towards Hastinapur. The Kaurava flag, held by a soldier leading the contingent, fluttered in the wind. The moment the soldiers spotted Duryodhana’s chariot, a cheer rang through the files. Karna, seeing his friend, dismounted and they hugged each other. The soldiers cheered once more. Everyone lined the streets to welcome the heroes. The citizens were in awe at seeing the brightly decorated elephants, the sparkling chariots and the soldiers dressed in their finery as they marched towards the royal palace. Duryodhana, standing in the lead chariot along with Karna, surveyed the sea of humanity gathered to receive them. Behind them were carts pulled by six oxen each, bearing the weight of the wealth acquired by Karna in his campaign. The showering of flowers continued all along the route as the citizens continued to cheer them. On reaching the palace, Karna took Dhritarashtra’s blessings, who hugged him affectionately saying, ‘Radheya, you have made Hastinapur proud! How I wish I was able to see your victorious face. The durbar is waiting to receive you. Please take me there.’ Karna led Dhritarashtra to the royal durbar, where he was received with warmth and affection. Karna saluted Bhishma, Vidur, Dronacharya and Kripacharya as soon as he entered the durbar. Bhishma was the first one to say, ‘Radheya, your valour is exemplary. You have taken the Kauravas’ fame to new heights. I bless you with all my heart.’ On cue from Duryodhana, a handmaiden stepped forward holding a tray laden with exquisite gems and clothes embroidered with gold. Duryodhana was overwhelmed with emotion as Karna received the tray. Karna said, ‘My lord, the vast subcontinent, free of danger or threat, is yours now. You can rule peacefully like Indra.’ Unable to hold his emotions, Duryodhana hugged Karna and said, ‘My friend, I could never have received this honour without your help. I have found a brother today!’ After the formalities at the durbar were over, Karna reached his palace. Vrushali

had been waiting patiently for her husband to reach and received him with lamps for an aarti. After a long time, Karna’s household reverberated with joy.

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Within a few days of Karna’s return, Duryodhana called for an assembly with Bhishma, Vidur and all elders. He addressed Dhritarashtra, ‘Father, Karna has successfully conducted the digvijaya march. I would now like to perform the rajsuya yajna.’ Dhritarashtra agreed wholeheartedly. Karna said, ‘Yuvraj, the time is right. You can invite all the kings to participate and get their . The rishis would be happy to bless the yajna.’ Dronacharya, uncomfortable at the idea, said, ‘May I say something?’ ‘Please!’ Duryodhana replied. ‘You don’t have the right to perform a rajsuya yajna when the emperor is still alive.’ ‘Father is blind, and he cannot perform a yajna. Hence, his presence does negate my right to the yajna,’ Duryodhana argued. The priests, listening to the conversation, said, ‘Yuvraj, you may be technically right, but you cannot perform two yajnas of the same kind in one family. You can perform the yajna only if you defeat Yudhishthira.’ ‘Are you saying Yuvraj cannot conduct any yajna under any circumstances?’ Karna asked. ‘Not exactly; you can conduct a vaishnav yajna, which is similar to the rajsuya. It would give you immense fame, and you can elicit of all the kings under your command. Their contribution in the form of gold can be used to mould a golden hull. The symbolic tilling of the land with the hull will herald the beginning of the yajna.’ Satisfied by this suggestion, preparations for the vaishnav yajna began in full swing. Messengers were sent in all directions to welcome the kings and esteemed scholars. The preparations for moulding the golden hull began in Hastinapur. After the symbolic tilling of the land, expert masons and craftsmen busied themselves getting the palace ready for the yajna.

One day, Vidur suggested that they should invite the Pandavas for the yajna. Duryodhana thought for a moment and then asked Dushasana to send a messenger to invite the Pandavas. ‘Please tell them that it is a personal invitation from Duryodhana and that we would be pleased to have their presence here,’ he instructed the messenger. As the day of the yajna arrived, guests started arriving from all over. However, the messenger returned from the forest alone. Duryodhana asked, ‘Are they not coming?’ ‘Yuvraj, after listening to me, Yudhishthira asked me to convey his best wishes to you and expressed his inability to attend stating that they were bound to spend their time in the forest.’ Duryodhana, despite his relief at their absence, said, ‘Oh! It would have been nice to have them here.’ Seeing the messenger hesitate, Karna realized that he wanted to say something further. He asked, ‘Did they have a message for us? Don’t hesitate—you may speak freely.’ The messenger said, ‘Angaraj, Bheema said, “Tell Duryodhana that the day we complete our thirteen years of exile, Dharmaraj would be more than happy to sacrifice Duryodhana in the battlefield. It is only after having burnt the sons of Dhritarashtra that we will step into the city.”’ The durbar was stunned into silence. Vidur was unable to react at the unexpected vitriolic outburst from Bheema. Bhishma asked, ‘Did the others say anything?’ ‘No, no one else spoke.’ Bhishma tried to deflect the situation saying, ‘Yuvraj, don’t get upset at Bheema’s utterances. We all know his temper. Let it not ruin the auspicious atmosphere of our yajna.’ Karna smiled wryly. He said, ‘Pitamah, I wonder why you could not advise Krishna similarly when he used his disc to behead Shishupal. How did you allow the sanctity of the yajna to be despoiled with bloodshed? Or was a human

sacrifice the need of the hour?’ Bhishma was silent. Karna, now unable to control his anger, continued, ‘What kind of behaviour is this? Is this how a messenger should be treated? I am amazed that this durbar does not react when the Pandavas threaten to destroy the Kaurava clan. Duryodhana, don’t feel bad that no one here has any value for your efforts. You have my complete . I look forward to the day you defeat Yudhishthira and then perform the rajsuya yajna.’ He paused for a moment and then continued, his loud voice booming across the durbar, ‘I vow: I shall not rest till I kill Arjuna. I will not touch meat or alcohol till I fulfil my vow.’ Duryodhana, overwhelmed with joy, hugged him tightly. Karna could feel the warmth of gratitude in his embrace.

When Karna mentioned his intention to return to his kingdom, Duryodhana said, ‘Friend, you may go if you wish, but I don’t think you will be able to stay for long. The moment the Pandavas finish their exile in the forest, we need to make every effort to find them during their one year of hiding.’ ‘Yuvraj, don’t worry. I will come back the moment I hear from you,’ Karna said. Karna took his leave that evening and Duryodhana escorted him for a long while, chatting as they went.

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The whole of Angadesh came out to receive their king, who was returning after a long gap. Karna soon immersed himself in the welfare of his state. It was late one night when Karna woke up to the sound of a thousand buzzing bees. Opening his eyes, he found his room lit in a bright, yet soothing golden light. He turned to see Vrushali sleeping soundly. Despite the deep, sonorous sound and the unnatural yet beautiful light, Karna felt at peace and looked intently at the source of the light. He got up, seeing the silhouette of someone within the centre of the light. A voice, sounding as if it emerged from deep within a well, said, ‘Karna, it is me!’ ‘I …’Karna said hesitatingly, unable to identify the voice. ‘I am the one you offer your oblations to each day, the one whose light fills you up each day.’ Karna’s heart was filled with gratitude and awe at seeing his lord in person. He was tempted to rush and fall at his feet, but all he could do was stand and stare. He did not dare touch the light. His hands folded in namaskar automatically as he looked at Surya. ‘May you always be happy,’ Surya blessed him. ‘Karna, I have come here with a specific purpose.’ ‘Please tell me, o lord.’ ‘The Pandavas will complete their time in exile shortly and will reveal themselves the moment their one year of hiding is over. They will be eager to capture their lost territory and to help them win, Lord Indra will come to you.’ ‘Lord Indra? What for?’ ‘He will come to you as a needy person—to ask for your charity.’ ‘Why should Indra help the Pandavas?’ ‘Just as you pray to me, Arjuna prays to Indra.’

‘I consider it a reward for all the penance I have ever done if Lord Indra himself were ask for my help. But what I can offer him? What do I have which the lord himself cannot get?’ ‘Your armour and your earrings.’ ‘What about them?’ ‘He will come asking for them because he knows that they protect you and that no one can defeat you as long as you have them on. How will the Pandavas win if you continue to have your protection? Karna, your earrings are made from amrit, the nectar of the gods. If you wish to live, you must protect them.’ Karna could not say anything. Seeing his state of confusion, Surya said, ‘Karna, you would never deny a beggar or anyone who asks you for charity. In my journey through the day, seeing you perform your acts of charity at the river bank is an intensely satisfying sight. But there is a limit to everything. It would be foolhardy to give something important away when the intention of the other person is deceitful.’ ‘Lord, how can I argue with what you have said? The knowledge that you protect me is a reward for my life’s penance.’ ‘Karna, don’t hesitate. Speak your mind.’ ‘As you command, lord. You light up the world where deeds of all kinds are committed; whether good or bad; you do not differentiate. I have no control over what I give. I do not ask what purpose the receiver uses what I give. Nor do I have the right to ask.’ ‘That is commendable, but listen to me. I spread my light from heaven while the good or bad deeds, as you mentioned, take place on the earth, far removed from where I am. They do not touch me. But that does not mean I would hand over my luminescence to who asks for it. I would no longer be myself then. I will be devoid of my essential self. Likewise, your earrings and your armour—they define who you are. If you give them away, you are giving your life away. Only your fame will survive.’ ‘Isn’t it better to be famous after death than live a life where no one knows you?’

‘One can enjoy fame only when one is alive, Karna.’ ‘I consider the fame one leaves behind after one’s death to be more valuable than an ordinary life. I can never express my gratitude to you. The fact that the mighty sun god is concerned about my welfare is a blessing very few have. That my most precious earrings and armour would be taken away by another god is in itself a blessing for me. The greatest charity would be to a god!’ ‘Karna, I could not but come and warn you. It is up to you to decide how you want to act now.’ Karna realized that Surya was upset. He said, his voice filled with anguish, ‘Lord! Please pardon me. Don’t be upset with me, I beg of you! I am your devotee and whatever I have, I offer at your feet. If you really believe in my penance and my devotion, please do not take me away from your love!’ ‘Karna, I understand the value you have for your charity, so don’t think I am angry or upset at you. In fact, my love for you has multiplied seeing your attitude and belief in your dharma. I have but one request.’ ‘Please tell me, my lord!’ ‘When Indra comes asking for your armour and your earrings, ask him for one infallible weapon which you can use to protect yourself.’ ‘Are you telling me to ask something in return?’ Karna asked. Yes, I am. Don’t think twice about it now—consider it my command.’ ‘As you command, my lord! If ever I am accused of having asked for something in return, I would consider it my good fortune. Just as the beauty of the moon is enhanced by the marks on his face, my reputation would be increased as I followed my Lord’s orders.’ Karna bent low. When he looked up, the light had vanished. He looked out of the window to see dawn breaking over the horizon. Vrushali continued to sleep as peacefully as before. Lying next to her, Karna wondered whether he had had a dream or he had actually met his god.

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When it was time for him to leave for his prayers at the river the next morning, Karna was preoccupied with his encounter with Surya. Vrushali noticed him observing himself in the mirror, and she asked, ‘What are you looking at?’ ‘My beauty.’ ‘What about it?’ ‘Vrushali, would I have the courage to look at my face if it lost its beauty?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘A man grows old each day, but he remains attached to his beauty, refusing to accept the reality in the mirror. I wonder what would it be like to meet Lord Indra, the very epitome of beauty.’ ‘What is wrong with you this morning? You seem so preoccupied since you woke up.’ ‘Do you really think so?’ ‘I have been observing you for a while now. You are unnaturally alert and anxious to reach the river. You had the chariot readied a long time ago. Why are you so eager to reach the river?’ ‘You are right, Vasu,’ Karna said, smiling. ‘Today is a most auspicious day for me. Who can refuse to meet the lord himself?’ ‘The lord?’ Karna realized he had said too much and changed the topic. ‘Of course! When I stand in the middle of the river praying to Surya, his energy fills me up. In those moments, I am one with him. Isn’t that like getting the darshan of the lord himself? What is surprising about that?’ He smiled and walked out of the palace. When he arrived at the river, he left the

chariot under the shade of the trees as usual and walked towards the river bank. There was no one else on the bank, and tn the silence, Karna’s footsteps were loud on the sand. Leaving his angavastram and his sandals on the banks, he walked barefoot towards the river, the hot sand burning his soles. He continued walking till he reached the middle of the river, the waters lapping around his waist. He plunged into the river and swam for a while, enjoying the refreshing cold water. After a while, he stood with his face towards the sun as he performed his oblations. The drops of water shone on his face in the bright rays of the rising sun. Raising his hands above his head, he closed his eyes and prayed to the sun god. Karna opened his eyes after a while. His hair had dried in the heat of the sun, and scooping up some water in his palms, he said, as he always did, ‘Is there anyone in need here?’ But there was no answer. Surprised at the lack of response, he asked again, ‘Is there anyone in need here?’ ‘Yes!’ a voice answered. ‘How can I help you? You may ask for anything other than my masculinity and religion. With the sun god as my witness, I will fulfil any wish of yours.’ Karna opened his palms towards the stream to let the water flow out and then turned to meet Lord Indra. He was about to put his palms together, but was surprised to see a poor Brahmin standing on the banks of the river. He was wearing a tattered dhoti and looked emaciated. Karna was stunned on seeing him. He was expecting Lord Indra, instead it was a poor Brahmin standing there.He looked around to ensure that there was no one else waiting for him. ‘May you be ever victorious, Angaraj!’ Karna asked, ‘Sir, what can I do for you? Shall I arrange for a land with ample cattle, or a suitable bride or any other material comforts for you?’ The Brahmin only smiled. Karna said, ‘Please don’t doubt my ability to help you. You may ask for anything

without hesitation and I shall give it you happily.’ The Brahmin realized that Karna was observing him intently and he said, trying to avoid Karna’s eyes, ‘Not everything may give you happiness, Angaraj. Somethings may have tragic consequences.’ ‘It is enough if it makes you happy. Don’t worry about me—your happiness is my reward.’ The Brahmin hesitated. He had not expected Karna to be so forthright. He said, his voice hesitating a little, ‘Angaraj … I … I want your armour … and your earrings …’ ‘They are yours!’ Karna said at once. The Brahmin smiled. He noticed Karna had a knowing smile on his lips though tears gathered in his eyes. The Brahmin asked, seeing him cry, ‘Does that pain you—giving what I asked for?’ Karna wiped his tears and said, ‘I am never saddened by what I give. I am disappointed by the pettiness of begging. I realized today that there is nothing more humiliating than the act of begging. Why else would Lord Indra, the very epitome of wealth and poverty, have to resort to posing as a poor Brahmin to ask for something?’ The Brahmin was taken aback at Karna’s remarks and said, ‘How did you recognize me?’ ‘I was warned that you would come asking for my armour and earrings. And I was eager to meet you.’ ‘Who warned you?’ ‘Just as Arjuna is your devotee, I am a devotee of the sun god.’ Lord Indra smiled and revealed his true self, his tattered dhoti turning into a flowing pitambar. Karna looked mesmerized as Lord Indra gradually appeared before his very eyes. It was a sight he could not take his eyes away from. Karna folded his hands in gratitude at the sight of the lord as he appeared in his true form. He then noticed that a few clouds had appeared overhead, giving them

shade. ‘May you ever be blissful! Radheya, you will give me your armour and earrings, won’t you?’ Karna realized he was still standing in the river, and he stepped out on to the banks. He glanced in the direction of his chariot, standing far away in the shade of the trees. He looked at his body for a moment, his face a mixture of confusion and hesitation. Sensing his dilemma, Indra put his right hand forward. He was holding a sharp weapon. Karna took the weapon and paused for a moment. ‘Karna, what are you waiting for?’ Karna said, ‘Lord, I am but an ordinary human, brought up in a charioteer’s home. These earrings and this armour are the sole markers of my lineage. I regret that I won’t have them any longer, but I wonder if removing them will change me forever—I do not want to become ugly. I fear that my charity will scar me for life.’ ‘No, Angaraj. Go ahead, nothing will scar you.’ Karna held the sharp object in his hand. He did not show even a moment’s hesitation as he cut off his earrings. As he cut open his armour, he found that new skin had grown in its place instantly. Thus, when he had removed the armour and earrings, there were no scars. In fact, a new set of earrings, exactly like the one he had given Indra, were dangling from his ears. As soon as he placed the armour and earrings in Indra’s hands, they dissolved into Indra’s palms, leaving no trace behind. Tears gathered in Karna’s eyes as he saw the armour and the earrings vanish. ‘Why do you weep, Angaraj? Indra asked. Karna shook his head and said, sighing deeply, ‘I do not regret donating these items, but I feel a little sorry for my fate.’ ‘Your fate?’ Indra asked, a little surprised.

‘I feel jealous of the armour and earrings. What else can be the purpose of life if not to dissolve into the almighty? You only asked for my armour. How I wish you had asked for me! It would have been the ultimate fulfilment to dissolve into the lord. I would have happily surrendered my entire self, my lord! My life would have found its true purpose.’ Indra had come there to deprive Karna of his ultimate protection in order to keep his devotee Arjuna safe from the indestructible Karna. But Karna’s selfless devotion moved him, and he hugged him affectionately. ‘Radheya, even gods have their limitations. Do you think I have the capability to merge you into myself? Karna, your valour, your magnanimity is limitless. I am pleased with you. Ask for a boon.’ Karna ed the promise he had made to Lord Surya but still he hesitated. ‘Why do you hesitate? Ask me anything!’ After a moment’s pause, Karna said, ‘Nothing is impossible for you, lord! I am committed to ask for a weapon which will save me. I was momentarily overwhelmed by your presence and words escapes me. I feel I have no right to ask, but if you so desire, please give me the power to destroy my enemy.’ ‘Your wish is fulfilled, Karna! I will grant you my treasured power but —you can destroy only one enemy with it. The moment you use it, it will automatically return to me. I have only one thing to say—don’t use this power for your selfish gains.’ Karna bent as Indra, raising his right hand, transferred his power to him. Karna closed his eyes in prayer. When he opened his eyes, Lord Indra had disappeared. He looked up to find the clouds had vanished, and the sun shone in all its brightness. Adjusting his angavastram over his shoulders, he walked towards his chariot. As he touched his body, he realized that it felt the same and yet there was a discernible difference—his earlier power was gonr.

Vrushali could see a strange kind of satisfaction on Karna’s face as he entered the palace. After lunch, Karna stepped into his quarters for some rest. Vrushali looked at him intently. Despite his outward happiness, she felt something amiss. Nothing her stare at him, Karna asked, ‘What is it, Vasu?’ ‘I have been observing you since you returned from your prayers. You seem happy yet …’ ‘Do I look different?’ Vrushali nodded and Karna said, ‘Vasu, would you believe me if I were to tell you that Lord Indra himself came to me in form of a Brahmin, asking for help?’ ‘What? Lord Indra?’ ‘Yes, Indra himself.’ ‘What did he ask for?’ Vrushali asked, eager to know. ‘He asked for my armour and earrings.’ Vrushali’s face fell, her eyes clouded with fear. She now realized what that indescribable change in Karna’s looks was. The earrings, normally shining with a subtle glow, looked dull now. ‘Did you give them to him? Do you know why he asked for them?’ ‘Has Karna ever allowed anyone to return empty-handed? And this was Lord Indra himself! How could I refuse?’ A sob escaped Vrushali’s lips. ‘What harm have you done to Indra for him to ask for your armour? Why did he have to take them away?’ ‘Vrushali, even gods have egos. They cannot tolerate to see powers which are beyond them. I had a power which even he doesn’t have. Maybe that is why …’ ‘Did you not ask him why?’ ‘My duty is to give; I have never asked anyone why they want something of me.’

Vrushali moved her hand over Karna’s chest, trying to feel the lost armour. Tears flowed down her cheeks. Lifting her chin gently, Karna looked into her eyes and kissed them, drinking in the tears. ‘Vasu, are you crying because I lost the earrings and armour?’ He laughed. ‘One must prove his valour with his deeds and not because he has god-given powers. You should be happy that I don’t have the earrings and my armour anymore.’ ‘Happy?’ Vrushali asked, surprised. ‘ you’d once woken up after a nightmare? But you did not wake me up or come close to me. When I asked you why, do you what you had replied?’ Without waiting for Vrushali’s answer, Karna continued, ‘You had said that you often wished to come near me, but my earrings shone with a strange light in the night, making you nervous. You were afraid! Vasu, you don’t have to be scared any more. My earrings will never disturb you.’ Hugging her, Karna said, ‘It’s not just you—even my enemies can dare to touch me now.’

An urgent summons from Duyodhana saw Karna in Hastinapur the next day. The moment he reached the palace, he found Shakuni, Dushasana and Duryodhana waiting for him. Duryodhana asked, ‘We have just received news that Kichak has been assasinated.’ ‘Assassinated?’ ‘Yes, the Gandharvas killed him most cruelly. The body of the commander of Viraat’s army was found on the floor of his dance hall torn into pieces. There was blood and gore everywhere. Apparently, Kichak tried to molest Sairandhri, a dancing girl famed for her beauty. The Gandharvas protected her by killing Kichaka.’ Karna was lost in thought and stayed silent. Dushasana asked, ‘Angaraj, you won’t say anything?’ ‘I wonder why the Gandharvas would commit such a heinous crime. I have never heard of them doing any such thing. I know of only one person who would kill in this fashion.’ ‘Who do you think it is?’ ‘Bheema!’ Karna said. Everyone looked at him in surprise. Karna said, ‘Yuvraj, you have been searching for the Pandavas since they went into hiding. Perhaps we should look in Kichaka’s palace.’ ‘I think that is a good idea,’ Dushasana said. ‘You don’t have to bother about the Pandavas anymore. I had sent my spies to look for them and they returned, unable to find them anywhere. I am quite convinced that they are dead.’ ‘Yuvraj, please don’t be so naive. Your spies can search across the world, but

they will not find them. Rest assured, the Pandavas will reveal themselves the moment their year of hiding is over.’ ‘You are right, Radheya. Let us see what happens. By the way, Raja Susharma of Trigarta is here. He has suggested that we march onto Viraat’s kingdom and annex it. King Viraat is quite helpless now that his commander is dead, and it is a good opportunity to attack him. It would add to our growing empire, not to mention the enormous wealth we would get along with it.’

Soon, Bhishma and Drona led a large army to attack the kingdom of Matsya. Discovering that there was no way to repulse the attack, Viraat sought the help of the Pandavas hiding in his palace. In the ensuing battle, the Pandavas managed to rout the Kaurava army which had top commanders like Karna, Bhishma and Drona to boot. Realizing that the Pandavas had finally come out of hiding, Duryodhana suggested that they return to Hastinapur rather than continue their fight to capture Matsya. A worried and pensive Kaurava army returned to Hastinapur.

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The war became political once the Pandavas had been sighted. Drupada’s minister reached the Kaurava capital to mediate but he was sent back mid-way. Karna and Duryodhana rejected the Pandavas’s demand for half the empire. Dhritarashtra, fearing the Pandavas’ wrath, sent Sanjaya to mediate but to no avail. Sensing that war was inevitable, Krishna also set out for Hastinapur to find a solution. Bhishma, Vidura and Drona, happy to hear of Krishna’s arrival, pinned their hopes on him. Dhritarashtra issued orders to ensure that Krishna was received with full honours and that he be treated royally. Krishna soon arrived in Hastinapur, and the streets sported a festive look. The sea of humanity spilling out on the roads, waiting to receive Krishna, was a sight to watch. Leading the crowds were Bhishma, Drona and Vidura, who stood at the gates of the city. Duryodhana’s absence was obvious to everyone. As soon as Krishna’s chariot entered Hastinapur, a cheer erupted from the crowds. On reaching the royal palace, Duryodhana met Krishna and escorted him to Dhritarashtra’s quarters. Duryodhana requested that Krishna make himself comfortable in a part of the palace especially readied for him. However, he refused and said he would stay at Vidura’s palace. Duryodhana, incensed with Krishna’s casual refusal said, ‘Did you see how Krishna, despite being received with such honour by my father, refused my request to host him?’ Karna tried pacifying Duryodhana and said, ‘Krishna is not entirely wrong in his refusal. He has come here as a messenger and a mediator. He cannot accept your hospitality and be seen as being partial. But let us not worry about that. We need to think about what Krishna will say tomorrow and prepare our argument.’ ‘What is there to think about? If we agree with his views, it is fine. Else, we will do whatever …’ ‘Whatever? What do you mean?’ ‘We will imprison him. He will not walk out of the Kaurava palace like the last time.’ Karna was mortified by Duryodhana’s foolish arrogance but Duryodhana, lost in

his own world, walked away leaving Karna a worried man.

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Krishna along with Satyaki and others were being hosted in Vidura’s palace, and Vidura’s household was celebrating the arrival of their most prestigious guest. Krishna had finished his morning prayers and was about to leave for the royal palace when he found that Duryodhana, Karna and Shakuni had come to receive him. He said, looking at Duryodhana, ‘I hope you are not upset by my not accepting your invitation.’ ‘Why should I get upset?’ Duryodhana answered, looking at Vidura. ‘My uncle’s house is mine too. I hope you were taken care well.’ Duryodhana’s words impressed Krishna. ‘What more can one ask for when one gets love, trust and affection.’ He turned to Karna and said, ‘Angaraj, I hope you are well.’ ‘Yes, I am.’ ‘How is Vrushasena? I think about him often.’ ‘It is his good fortune that you think of him. He is in Hastinapur, and I will ask him to meet you this evening.’ ‘Maharaj,’ Duryodhana said, ‘Bhishma and others are waiting for you in the durbar like the gods in the heaven wait for Lord Indra.’ Krishna adjusted his angavastram as he slipped on his sandals. ‘Let us go. I don’t want the elders to be kept waiting.’ Duryodhana, Karna and the others followed Krishna’s chariot towards the royal palace. They reached the gates of the palace to the sound of trumpets announcing their arrival. A wave of excitement ed through those present in the sabha, eager to see their special guest. Holding Vidura and Satyaki’s hands, Krishna entered the durbar, led by Duryodhana and Karna. Kritavarma and key aides from the Vrishni clan followed Krishna. The moment Dhritarashtra was told of Krishna’s arrival, he respectfully stood up to receive him and the others in the sabha followed suit. A golden throne had been kept ready for Krishna, and Karna and Duryodhana had been seated next to him. Those in the audience sat down after Krishna took his seat. All eyes were

on him now. Krishna’s blue skin looked radiant, effortlessly the colour of flax flowers, the colour of his yellow pitambar adding to his allure. A silence enveloped the sabha now. Krishna stood up and looking at Dhritarashtra, he said, ‘As you are all aware, the Pandavas have completed their exile and were seen at Virat’s palace. Before my arrival, Drupada’s messenger tried his best and so did Sanjaya from the Kauravas, but neither of them were able to help the two parties reconcile. I have come to avoid what seems inevitable and attempt a reconciliation.’ Krishna noticed Duryodhana’s wry smile and continued, ‘I am not afraid of the Pandavas losing in battle and nor am I here to save you from the ignominy of defeat. I can clearly foresee huge losses on both sides if the war was to take place. My intention is to avoid such a war, which will only leave everyone defeated. It was the great Emperor Pandu, who, with his political diplomacy and wisdom, created the largest empire of our time. Is it fair that his sons should remain forest dwellers while others enjoy the fruits of his labour? Should it not be logical that they receive what they rightfully should own?’ ‘Rightfully?’ Duryodhana interrupted. ‘What rights are you talking about? Repeating a lie endlessly does not make it the truth. The empire belongs to the Kauravas, and Dhritarashtra Maharaj is the rightful heir—that is the truth.’ ‘But his blindness …’ ‘Blindness does not take away one’s right to rule. Had that been the case, Pandu would not have abdicated the throne to his blind brother and leave for penance into the forest. Krishna, you may practise democracy in Gokul and elect Nanda your leader, but this is not how royal families work. We may be hundreds of us but that does not mean we break up the Empire into as many pieces. We stay together.’ ‘Precisely! Just the way a hundred Kauravas are being taken care of, the five Pandavas too must get their share.’ ‘Five!’ Duryodhana laughed out loudly. ‘Most people here praise your valour and your abilities. Don’t take refuge in lies. The five Pandavas may at best be referred to as Kaunteya, but they are surely not Pandavas. Don’t make me say things I should not be saying in such a gathering.’

Krishna controlled his rising anger and said, looking at Dhritarashtra, ‘I have not come here to debate these issues. It is unfortunate that your sons hate the righteous Pandavas. The Pandavas were almost burnt to death in the lac palace for having accepted the Kaurava hospitality in good faith. The Pandavas turned Khandavprastha, a tract of land with dense forests, into a sparkling new city called Indraprastha, much to the envy of the Kauravas. Resorting to a game of dice, the Kauravas not only managed to trick the Pandavas but also insulted Draupadi in the sabha. But the Pandavas tolerated these insults and accepted twelve years of exile and another year of hiding. Their message to you is: “We don’t need a kingdom or wealth. We can acquire those through our own strength. We will be content with five villages as our inheritance. Rajan, no praise can be enough for their wisdom. They believe in the charitableness of disposition, the desire of abounding in the commanded works of piety.’ ‘Huh!’ Duryodhana interjected. ‘What temerity, to ask for a mere five villages as their inheritance! And what charitableness of disposition you are talking of? I think something is amiss here. An inheritor is an heir; and an heir has rights! Krishna, you are here as a mediator, but you seem to be singing their tune. And it’s not just that, but you are mocking me. Your biased view will always see them in the right light and believe that we are wrong.’ ‘We played the game of dice in front of everyone,’ Duryodhana continued. ‘How is it our fault if they lose? We invited them to a yajna, forgetting all insults. Yet what did Bheema do? He took an oath that they would enter Hastinapur over our dead bodies. This is the language your so-called wise, gentle, forest-dwelling Pandavas use! I am not scared of threats. If they want war, I am happy to grant their wishes!’ ‘Are you aware of the consequences?’ Krishna asked. ‘What consequences are you referring to? My death? What better way for a Kshatriya to die? I would reach heaven if I were to perish in a war. It is better to embrace death rather than give oneself up. I will protect my father’s kingdom till my last breath. Till Dhritarashtra is the emperor, either the Kauravas or the Pandavas will have to forget that they are Kshatriyas and live like ascetics, living off the food they forage and hunt for themselves. In my helplessness, I agreed to give the Pandavas which was never theirs, but I am not going to make the same mistake again. Krishna, tell the Pandavas: as long as I live, they will not get even a grain of this kingdom, forget about five villages!’

The finality with which Duryodhana spoke angered Krishna. He said, looking at Dhritarashtra, ‘Samrat, you have heard your son’s decision. There is only way left to prevent the coming calamity.’ ‘What is it?’ Dhritarashtra asked anxiously. Pointing at Duryodhana, Krishna’s clear voice rang through the durbar. ‘Arrest your ill-informed son Duryodhana and his advisors Shakuni, Karna and Dushasana and hand them over to the Pandavas.’ Krishna’s advice took Duryodhana by surprise. Dushasana stood up and said, ‘What if Yuvraj did the same to you?’ Krishna’s laughter filled the hall. Looking at those present he said, ‘Dushasana, let Duryodhana try! Do you think I have come unprepared? I am here with my entire army.’ He threw a contemptuous glance at Dushasana before he continued. ‘You thought arresting me was as easy as trying to disrobe a woman?’ ‘What army? Duryodhana asked contemptuously, trying to call Krishna’s apparent bluff. ‘I came here with my entire chaturanga army, which has, at this moment, surrounded Hastinapur under Kritavarma’s command. The entire contingent of my soldiers from the Vrishni clan are eagerly waiting to repulse any threat. You may try arresting me but the war, which is likely to begin soon, may start and end right here.’ For a moment, Duryodhana was stunned into silence at realizing Krishna’s might. Unable to bear it, he walked out of the durbar. Karna, Shakuni and Dushasana too followed suit. The durbar was silent, no one willing to speak, leaving Krishna standing alone. After a while, he said, addressing Dhritarashtra, ‘Maharaj, your son has walked out of the meeting, but I don’t consider that an insult. War is inevitable now. It would be best for you if you can manage to drill some sense into your son’s head. I will be at Vidura’s palace tonight, and I would be happy to return with a peace treaty.’

Krishna left the hall followed by Vidura, Kritavarma and Satyaki. The sabha found their tongues the moment they left and a buzz erupted across the durbar.

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After escorting Krishna to his palace, Vidura returned to the royal palace where Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari were waiting. The moment he entered, Dhritarashtra said, ‘Vidura, we need to make Duryodhana and see reason. Bring him here right now. I hope Krishna is not feeling insulted.’ ‘Krishna’s heart as pure and transparent. He does bear any one ill will, but he was undoubtedly hurt the way things were conducted. I am also quite disturbed at the turn of events. War is easier declared than fought and the Pandavas, with Krishna on their side, will win. You need to stop Duryodhana.’ Gandhari, sighed deeply as Vidura left and said, ‘Pitamah, you should have stopped him. You have the right to do so.’ ‘What right are you talking of? I cannot demand my rights because of my age nor do I have the strength to insist. It is unfortunate the emperor’s blindness is making his love for his son blind as well.’ ‘Pitamah, don’t be upset. I can act only within the limits of my ability—or the lack of it.’ After a while, Duryodhana and Karna entered the room, followed by Vidura. Dhritarashtra said, ‘My son, you must control your anger and think calmly. Listen to your mother now.’ Duryodhana stayed silent and looked at his mother. She had a large forehead, sharp nose, and lovely lips, and the black band over her eyes only added to her beauty. She said in her sweet voice, ‘Duryodhana, I have never asked you for anything. Your father has always been biased towards you, and we have always treated you like a yuvraj and not just my son. This empire, which will one day be yours, is being threatened because of your decisions today.’ ‘What do you command, Mother?’ ‘My son, Bhishma and the elders believe that Krishna and Arjuna are invincible. A war will certainly lead to defeat. Listen to your elders—your father agreed to give the Pandavas a part of the kingdom to prevent any bitterness in the family. Let them have half the territory. You can happily rule over the other half, and everyone can live peacefully.’

Duryodhana’s laughter was tinged with sarcasm. He looked at Bhishma, Drona and the others and said, ‘Mother, I did not expect you to give me this advice. A strong-willed queen like you is asking me to behave like a coward? Unfortunately, most people cover their inner eye with a strip of cloth.’ ‘And what do you call such a cloth?’ ‘I call it loyalty. Don’t blame me for what happened today. The blame is Pitamah’s, Vidura’s and Acharya’s for they decided that the Pandavas should be given half our territory. They did not understand the importance of keeping the empire together.’ ‘Lofty ideals alone are not enough to live life, Yuvraj,’ Vidura said. ‘We still have time to correct our wrongs. Krishna is waiting for your message. Do you realize what the Pandavas are asking for? They don’t want half the kingdom— they only want five villages.’ ‘Look at the way they are asking, Uncle. They demand them as though it is their right, as if it is their inheritance. You gave wings to their ambitions by allowing them to perform the rajsuya yajna. You may tolerate it, but I cannot allow such a thing to happen again.’ ‘Duryodhana, we are still enjoying the fruits of the mighty ashwamedha yajna which Pandu asked me to take part in?’ Dhritarashtra asked. ‘You are right,’ Karna said. ‘We must note that Pandu Maharaj was not given the right to conduct the yajna—that was given to Dhritarashtra Maharaj. I raised the Kaurava flag across all the kingdoms as part of the digvijay march, but that does not mean I have the right to perform the yajna.’ ‘I hope we are not comparing the great Pandu’s sons with Radheya now, Durhyodhana,’ Vidura said, in an anguished tone. ‘Whose sons are you talking of? Uncle, I managed to control myself in the durbar, but let me make it clear—had they actually been Pandu’s sons I would have referred to them as princes. But the fact is that they are not Pandu’s sons nor do they have a single father. There is no reason for them to be considered heirs to the throne.’ ‘Duryodhana!’ Gandhari thundered.

‘I apologize, Mother. I had to throw light on Uncle’s knowledge of the issue.’ ‘What clarification are you talking about? It is ironic that someone who does not follow simple courtesies talks knowledge?’ ‘Uncle!’ Duryodhana shouted. ‘I will repeat what I have said for it is the truth, however bitter it may sound. You of all people are known to speak the truth! Do you have the courage to hear some bitter truths?’ ‘Say what you have to, Duryodhana. There is no one to stop you.’ Karna stepped forward and put his hand on Duryodhana’s shoulder. ‘Let it be, Yuvraj.’ Duryodhana, instead of being pacified, was further incensed and erupted. ‘Radheya, he who does not have the courage to follow his own moral values has no right to lecture someone else.’ ‘Yuvraj!’ Vidura began. ‘Silence!’ Duryodhana said, his voice bitter. ‘Uncle, when the Pandavas were in exile, why did their mother Kunti live in your palace?’ Vidura’s face fell. He tried shutting his ears with his palms but Duryodhana’s cruel words continued, ‘Moral codes are dictated by social mores. Her staying at your place is not as per social protocol.’ ‘Duryodhana! How many people will you insult? You are stubborn about waging a war but do you think Bhishma, Drona or Kriparcharya, who love the Pandavas so dearly, would be able to fight against them? Their loyalty is undoubtedly to the Kaurava Empire, having served the throne for so long, but how do you expect them take up their arms against Yudhishthira?’ ‘Mother, is that reason enough for me to hand over half the empire to them?’ A dejected Bhishma tried, ‘Yuvraj, I hope your clinging to false prestige is not the reason for the fall of this mighty empire.’ ‘Pitamah, can you explain for what higher purpose you gave up your right to the throne? Prestige or dignity cannot be measured in sizes.’

Bhishma, growing more disconsolate with Duryodhana’s taunts, said, ‘Please give some credence to my age and my experience. Believe me, it is impossible to defeat Krishna.’ ‘I know that,’ Duryodhana said. ‘Even then you insist on war?’ ‘Yes! If they win, people will know that Krishna won the war for them. I would consider it my good fortune to wage a war with Krishna, whom you consider god incarnate.’ Sighing deeply, Gandhari said, ‘Radheya, is that your opinion too?’ ‘Rajmata, I agree with Yuvraj.’ Dhritarashtra, realizing the inevitable, said, ‘Krishna was right; war will take place.’ ‘Don’t worry, Father!’ Duryodhana said. ‘Even if the Pandavas defeat us on the battlefield, they will come to you for your blessings and ask your pardon. You are, after all, the emperor.’ ‘Not another word, Duryodhana! I don’t want such sympathies—I would rather go away to the forest for the rest of my life.’ Duryodhana threw a disgusted look at Vidura and said, ‘You may deliver my final decision to Krishna. We shall go to war.’ Vidura left and Duryodhana and Karna touched Dhritarashtra and Gandhari’s feet to take their blessings. Gandhari said, ‘Radheya, do you realize the influence you have on my son? Close your eyes and look at your inner self for a moment.’ Karna laughed. He said, ‘I have never feared anything except being able to look at my own self. I will take your leave now. Please give me your blessings.’ A sob escaped Gandhari’s lips the moment Duryodhana and Karna left. Dhritarashtra said, ‘Don’t cry. My body, tired and crushed as it is, is tormented further hearing you cry.’

Gandhari took a deep breath and then, wiping her tears said, ‘My lord, there is still time. Let Duryodhana do what he wants. We must the Pandavas.’ ‘No, Gandhari, that is not possible,’ Dhritarashtra said. ‘I cannot leave Duryodhana just because the gods have deserted him. I am, after all, his father.’ When Karna reached his palace, Adhiratha asked, eager to know the outcome, ‘Was Krishna’s mediation successful?’ ‘The mediation happened for sure.’ ‘What has been decided?’ ‘War—a war that will annihilate everything in its wake!’ Karna did not have the courage to face his father as he climbed up the steps to his quarters.

35

The next morning Karna was about to leave when Vrushasena came into his quarters and asked, ‘Are you going to see Krishna Maharaj off?’ ‘That is right.’ ‘May I come along?’ ‘Of course. Ask Chakradhar to get the chariot ready. Meet me at the borders of Hastinapur on horseback. I will bring Dwarkadheesh from Vidura’s house.’ Vrushasena took off a necklace of pearls he was wearing and said, showing it to his father, ‘Krishna Maharaj gave it to me last evening. I had gone to meet him as you’d suggested.’ Karna looked at the necklace with curiosity. Vrushasena said, ‘Giving me the necklace Krishna said, “Vasu, these are very rare pearls. They are found deep in the ocean and are almost unbreakable.”’ Vrushasena smiled and continued, ‘He said, “You are like these pearls—ever shining!” You know, Father, Rajmata Kunti, who was watching, kissed my forehead when I touched her feet.’ ‘That is the greatness of elders like Kunti Mata. These pearls are not just a gift from Krishna. They are his blessings. Ensure that you never lose them.’ Vrushasena waited at the gates of Hastinapur where a huge crowd had gathered, eager for a glimpse of Krishna. Soon, trumpets announced the arrival of soldiers as the huge wooden doors leading to the bridge over the moat opened. The wooden planks on the bridge reverberated with the sound of the horse hooves. A few moments later, Krishna’s golden chariot came into sight. Krishna stopped his chariot and waved at the crowds, who cheered the moment they saw him. Spotting Vrushasena nearby, Krishna indicated for him to come closer. Vrushasena stepped closer to the chariot as Krishna hugged him affectionately. Krishna took leave of Bhishma and Vidura, then turned to Karna saying, ‘Angaraj, Would you accompany me for a little while?’ ‘As you command,’ Karna said. A knowing glance at Daruk was enough for him to get down and hand over the reins to Krishna. With a jerk of his head, he indicated Karna to get in behind.

‘Are you going to drive me?’ Karna asked, surprised. ‘Yes. I feel like being your charioteer today. Don’t hesitate; consider it my command if you wish,’ Krishna said, smiling. As the conch shells announced their departure, Krishna moved the chariot forward, while his huge army followed suit. Very soon, they had left Hastinapur behind as Krishna’s white steeds galloped across the arid land, the bells on their bridles tinkling. They were racing across treeless flat plains when Krishna turned back to see Satyaki following on a horse, leading some soldiers. At a nod from Krishna, Satyaki and the soldiers overtook them. They were alone now as the horses pulling Krishna’s chariot cantered at an easy pace. After a while, tying the reins to a rod, Krishna turned to face Karna and said, ‘Angaraj, war is certain now.’ ‘I was saddened that your mediation did not work, but to tell the truth, I am also excited,’ Karna said. ‘Karna, the next time we meet, it will be on the battlefield as enemies. I was keen to meet and speak to you before that.’ He was silent for a moment and asked, ‘Do you think the Kauravas can win?’ ‘Defeat and victory are in the hands of destiny.’ ‘Why don’t you give me a straight answer?’ ‘Madhav, you know everything yet you want me to answer your question. Why?’ ‘Why did you accept the inevitable then?’ ‘Let me clarify: the fear of defeat would not make me run away from truth.’ ‘Sometimes, the truth can be quite tragic and one may not be able to face it.’ ‘Luckily, I have the strength to face the truth.’ Krishna smiled enigmatically. He asked, ‘Karna, do you know who you are?’ ‘Yes, a charioteer’s son.’

‘That is not true.’ ‘That is what I am known as—Adhiratha’s son.’ ‘But you know that it is not true.’ ‘I was abandoned by my biological parents at birth. Only my armour and earrings were a reminder me of my parentage.’ ‘Have you never wondered about your parents, Karna?’ ‘Madhav, why do you ask a question which has tormented me since birth? I have spent my entire life trying to answer these questions. Where do I come from? Who am I? Who abandoned me the moment I was born? Neither my knowledge nor my penance have given me the answers, and I have not yet met anyone who has the answers either.’ ‘There is someone who does. But do you have the courage to hear the truth?’ ‘My lord, do you know anything about this?’ Krishna nodded and a frisson of excitement ran through Karna’s body. The chariot continued to move at a steady pace, the tinkling of bells adding music to the moment. Unable to control his curiosity, Karna asked, ‘Madhusudan, who am I? For what fault of mine did my mother discard me?’ ‘Listen to me calmly, Karna. You are a Kaunteya—Kunti’s son.’ ‘What? Kaunteya? Maharaj, don’t mock me,’ Karna said, laughing. ‘I am not joking, Karna,’ Krishna said, his voice calm. ‘You are Kunti’s son. You were a born as boon from the sun god when she was still unmarried. She had no choice but to leave you. Nevertheless, the scriptures tell us that such a child is considered the son of the person she marries later, and that makes you a Pandava. You are not a charioteer’s son.’ Karna was lost in thought. He stared at the wheels of the chariot leaving marks in the dry, hard soil. Sweat broke on his forehead and his body shivered.

Krishna’s words raced through his mind … I am not a charioteer’s son … I am not Radheya … Kaunteya … Pandava … ‘Let me make it clear, Karna, You are not merely a Kaunteya but the eldest amongst them. You will occupy the throne. The entire Vrishni clan is behind you, thanks to your mother’s lineage. Your place is not amongst the Kauravas.’ ‘My place?’ Karna asked, getting back to his sense. ‘Yes, your place, of pride and dignity. As the eldest Kaunteya, you need to be with the Pandavas. Your five brothers would welcome you affectionately and touch your feet in reverence. All the kings with them would be under your command. Draupadi would most willingly accept you as her sixth husband. I, as the head of the Yadavas, would follow your leadership. The entire Dasharna Janapada too would stand behind you.’ ‘Oh! Is that the reason you brought me here?’ ‘Yes, Karna, the moment I realized that war is imminent, I could not afford to hide the truth any longer. Karna, you are not only a great warrior but well versed in scripture, dharma and all things wise. Tomorrow, when you stand in the battlefield, will you take on the burden of fratricide? I had to tell you the secret of your birth to prevent such a sin. Karna, you are known for your character, your charity, your …’ ‘My charity? You vanquished Kansa and helped defeat the mighty Jarasandha. You have bought many tyrants to their knees but you never staked claim to their wealth or kingdoms. In fact, you were happy to hand them over to someone else. Your charity is impeccable while mine is tinged with selfishness.’ ‘Selfishness?’ ‘Yes! You told me the secret of my birth, let me now tell you the secret of my inner self. What could I do when I was labelled low-born and never had the chance to show my true valour? I had to fill the void by making an example of myself too difficult for others to emulate. My penance may have earned me the brahmastra but for fame I had to resort to charity!’ ‘Karna, whatever your reasons were but your charity has made your life a shining example. I urge you to think carefully about right and wrong before

taking a decision.’ Karna smiled wryly. He said, ‘Krishna, we call what we see the truth. A lie told inadvertently comes back to haunt you in form of truth at some point in future. Look at the irony: Why should the name of the rishi Bhrigu, the who invented fire, come to my mind when Parshuram asked me for my lineage? I never imagined then that I would be responsible for lighting the fire of destruction in this war. ‘Do you realize the war is in your hands?’ ‘In my hands?’ ‘Yes, if you decide to side with the Pandavas, Duryodhana would never have the courage to wage the war alone.’ ‘Keshav, I cannot destroy my friendship with him.’ ‘Listen to me, Karna! I urge you to consider.’ ‘Keshav, it is far too late. Why did Mata Kunti not stand up when Kripacharya asked about my lineage at the archery competition? When Druapadi insulted me repeatedly, calling me low-born at her swayamvar, you never stepped in to tell the truth. That would have been an appropriate moment but …’ ‘There is still time.’ ‘That is what you think. While helping Pandavas, you are insulting Duryodhana.’ ‘Why should I think about what he wants?’ ‘It may suit you but I cannot behave like that. He has been my constant companion since my youth, never allowing me to feel lonely. During the archery competition, he came to my rescue proclaiming me the king of Angadesh, while it should have been my mother standing by my side. During Draupadi’s swayamvar, he ed me. His love for me has never faltered even when I was defeated by the Gandharvas or by Arjuna in Viratnagari. How can I forget such a friend?’

‘Anything you say to justify your current state does not change the truth, Karna,’ Krishna persisted. ‘I am, in fact, analysing what you call truth. I could be a Kaunteya, but I was brought up with Radha and Adhiratha’s love and affections. I spent my life in a charioteer’s household, and I got married was into the same caste. I was never taught the values and ideals of a Kshatriya. Now that I am aware of my lineage, I hope I live up to one of the ideals of a true Kshatriya.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘A Kshatriya never abandons his friends—he would rather give up his life.’ Krishna was overwhelmed at Karna’s dedication to his friendship and remained silent. Karna said, ‘Krishna, I have a request.’ ‘Tell me, Angaraj.’ ‘Let this secret remain between us. Don’t let Yudhishthira find out. If my dharma-abiding, emotionally weak brother finds out the truth, he would happily leave everything to me and my destiny and walk away into the forest.’ Karna was unable to continue, overcome with emotion. Krishna was also feeling similarly speechless. He managed to say, ‘Karna, the way you have conducted yourself gives you the right to command me.’ Karna replied, ‘Please stop the chariot. I’d like to walk.’ Karna jumped down the moment Krishna brought the chariot to a halt. Krishna said, ‘Should you not have got down in the shade of a tree?’ ‘Shade?’ Karna smiled, looking at the hot sun above. ‘One should have the fortune of being blessed so. Arjuna, Indra’s devotee, is lucky to have someone like you to shield him. I am a worshipper of Surya, the sun god. My life is getting burnt in the hot rays of the sun alone. Where does shade find a place there?’ ‘Karna, I will never forget what I have experienced today. I will next meet you in

the battlefield. Do you want to say anything?’ Karna let out a deep sigh and said, ‘I hope that when you drive Arjuna’s chariot towards me, I have the strength to pull the string of my bow and …’ ‘And?’ ‘I hope that my life remains unblemished and that my end is noble.’ He continued, avoiding Krishna’s eyes, ‘I hope I don’t have the sin of fratricide on my hands…’ He hesitated for a moment and said, ‘And I had one more desire …’ Krishna had tears flowing down his cheeks. He said, wiping his eyes, ‘Tell me, Karna.’ ‘I wish I could have heard your sweet flute once more. But it seems that may not be possible.’ ‘No, Karna. You will surely hear my flute again. I would be happy to play for you.’ The sound of hooves interrupted their conversation. They both turned to see Krishna’s soldiers approaching. Krishna hugged Karna tightly. Daruk took the reins of the chariot and Krishna, getting in behind him said, ‘Let the horses fly. I would like to move as fast as possible.’ The chariot moved at a rapid pace and within moments, it vanished into a cloud of dust. All that was left behind was Karna’s chariot with Chakradhar waiting patiently in it.

36

The chariot raced in the hot sun towards Hastinapur as Karna sat silently, lost in his thoughts. It was a while before he realized that Chakradhar was shouting his name. ‘Angaraj!’ ‘What is it, Chakradhar?’ ‘Look!’ Karna looked in the direction in which he was pointing to see a chariot, silhouetted against the sun, rushing towards them. Karna immediately recognized it. ‘It is Yuvraj.’ Chakradhar whipped the horses to go make them go faster, and soon the two chariots drew abreast of each other. Karna was a little surprised to find Duryodhana’s face ashen. He said, smiling, ‘Don’t worry, Yuvraj! Krishna was not planning to kidnap me.’ Duryodhana was at a loss for words. He held Karna’s arm and said, ‘We can get those who have been kidnapped back, but can we do about those whom death takes away?’ ‘Death? What are you talking about?’ Duryodhana could barely speak. His eyes were filled with tears, and he felt suffocated having to break the news. He said, ‘Your … your father … he has died.’ ‘That is impossible! I spoke to him this morning …’ Karna exclaimed, unable to understand the sudden turn of events. ‘My friend, it was an accident.’ ‘Accident?’ ‘He was in the workshop supervising the construction of chariots. He was testing a newly built one and …’

A shiver ran down Karna’s spine. He said, ‘I know—please don’t torture me by repeating it.’ Karna could imagine what had happened. He mumbled, ‘Father got into the chariot. He ordered someone to remove the pins holding the wheel to the axle. The whip cracked, spurring the horses to race ahead at full speed. In one place, one of the wheels jumped over a pit and was dislodged from the axle, throwing Father out of the chariot. By the time the horses stopped, father had breathed his last … that’s what happened, isn’t it?’ ‘That is right!’ Duryodhana said, bewildered at Karna’s accurate narration of the accident. ‘But how did you know? Who told you?’ ‘I know the way my father puts a chariot to test, Yuvraj. He knew how to make a perfectly balanced chariot, but he never questioned his confidence in carrying out such a dangerous test. The wheels of the chariot may be built to perfection but never did he realize that the wheels of fate turn in their own fashion. We run the chariot of our lives with the power of knowledge, assiduous work and experience and yet, at times, our ego and arrogance make us remove the pins of self-restraint and forbearance—the pins which hold the wheels of life together. A minor attachment to something may result in losing all we have. Where is he now?’ ‘They have taken his body to the river banks. They are all waiting for you.’ Karna managed to get into the chariot with a hand from Duryodhana. His legs felt weak. Memories of Adhiratha flooded his heart and Duryodhana’s gentle caress on his back was enough for his restraint to falter. His tears flowed freely. When they returned after performing the funeral rites, Karna realized that a single person’s absence had changed the very nature of his home. Karna tried to console Dhrum as they entered the house; he knew he had to face his mother now. The room was covered with white cloth. Radhai sat in one corner, her head hanging low. Vrushali and the other women stood up seeing Karna. He could sense their sorrow and their silent tears. As he stood in front of his mother, she looked up. The very sight of her mother’s forehead devoid of sindoor was a severe jolt. He had never imagined that a single change on her face would make such a big difference. Radhai’s eyes stared into nothingness. Unable to say a word, he

slumped besides her and embraced her.

37

The flat plains of Kurukshetra were where the war would take place. Both the Kauravas and the Pandavas were busy gathering their men and soldiers. The palaces and havelis around the battlefield were being spruced up to accommodate the royals. The vast army of the Pandavas, assembling on one side of the river bank, spread each day as more kings ed them. The sight of the sprawling army spurred Duryodhana and Karna to make their armies stronger. Karna’s sons, Shatrunjaya, Vrishaketu and Vasusena, and his brothers, Dhrum and Drona, were busy with various activities in the army. Karna was surprised to see Radhai outside the house, walking along with a maid. She rarely stepped out of the house since Adhiratha had died. ‘Are you going somewhere?’ ‘I wish to go to the river and offer my prayers.’ ‘Shall I come with you?’ ‘Some things need to be done alone. This is one of them.’ The stars glimmered in the sky as Radhai and her maid reached the river bank. A small boat was anchored at the shore. The reflection of the lamp burning in the boat shimmered on the water. Radhai glanced at the other end of the bank, where a hundred small lamps signalled the Pandava camp. Radhai asked, pointing at the boat, ‘Is this the one?’ ‘Yes.’ They both got into the boat. Soon, they had reached the other bank. Krishna was alone in his tent. A burning stick of incense spread a mild fragrance, and he paced the floor lost in thought when a servant came in to announce, ‘An old woman has requested your audience.’ ‘At this hour?’ ‘She says she needs to meet you urgently.’ ‘Send her in,’ Krishna said, wondering who would want to meet him this late at

night. Kunti had arrived from Vidura’s palace the previous evening and was unlikely to come in alone. At that moment Radhai entered, guided by the servant. Krishna had never seen Radhai from close quarters and did not recognize her. Seeing Radhai fold her hands, Krishna quickly put his hands together and said, ‘Mothers bless and not greet.’ ‘Krishna Maharaj, you are not just a king but you rule people’s hearts. It is my duty to greet you.’ ‘Mother, I did not recognize you. You must be …’ ‘I am only a mother. A woman’s identity is bound to her husband’s, but I lost him a few days ago. I married when I was a mere child. I became a woman but the lack of a child of my own troubled me no end. I tried praying to all the gods, visited every shrine, kept fasts but they bore no fruit. Then, one morning when my husband and I were on the banks of the Ganga for a bath, we spotted a wicker basket floating in the currents. We lifted the basket gently on to the banks to find a newborn child in it. It was god’s gift to a childless couple.’ ‘What happened then?’ Krishna asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. ‘The son turned out to be truly a gift from god. Our lives transformed and our sorrows vanished. I conceived a few times after that, and I gave birth to two sons but the eldest is the most valiant. He is known as a wise, brave, large-hearted warrior …’ ‘You are talking of Karna, aren’t you?’ Krishna interrupted. Radha smiled. She knew Krishna would have known. ‘What do you want, Mother?’ Krishna asked. ‘Maharaj, what can a woman who has been widowed recently and whose son is planning to go to battle ask for? I want my son to be safe.’ ‘Why did you approach me for that?’ ‘Where else can I go?’ Radhai asked. ‘Krishna, I have heard my son praise your

immense qualities, your affection for all and your wisdom. He often says the true strength of the Pandavas is Krishna. If you bless him, he will be safe.’ ‘Mother, there is nothing I can do now.’ ‘Who can then?’ ‘Destiny!’ A smile flickered across Radhai’s face, taking Krishna by surprise. He asked, ‘Don’t you believe me?’ ‘I do.’ ‘Why do you mock me then?’ ‘Maharaj, my son is an ordinary man who grew up in a charioteer’s house. Yet, he has never faltered when anyone came asking for help, even it was Lord Indra in the guise of a Brahmin. You, on the other hand, are an incarnation of the lord himself. And yet, you talk of destiny?’ Krishna did not know how to respond to Radhai. She had spoken the truth. He said, ‘I can understand your emotions, Mother. I too love Karna but …’ ‘Stop it, Krishna! Don’t torture yourself anymore. I am Karna’s mother. He knows how to give but has never asked for anything in return. He has always said that if the giver is pained to part with something, the receiver should not take it, however precious it may be. I would not want you to be troubled for my sake. We will accept whatever fate has in store for us.’ ‘Mother, are you angry at me?’ ‘Krishna, I am not. I have no right to be. I will take your leave now.’ Radhai, having lost all hope, turned back, dragging her tired feet and soul towards the boat. She could see the Pandava camp lit with innumerable small fires. It reminded her of a huge cauldron waiting to erupt. The boat, with the waters of the river lapping against it, moved inexorably towards the other bank.

38

The next morning, Karna was in the workshop observing the men as they were getting his chariot ready. He could see the distant river bank despite a thin veil of fog. He asked, ‘Is the chariot tested and ready?’ ‘Yes, we did that the previous day.’ ‘Father’s way of testing was quite unique …’ Karna mused. ‘It was only he who could do that,’ one of the workers said. ‘We still wonder how the accident took place.’ Karna did not answer but stood near his chariot. The men got busy with their work. Hearing footsteps, he turned to find Radhai standing there. ‘Mother, what are you doing here all alone?’ ‘Why do I need someone to accompany me? I had finished my morning prayers when I was told you were here, and I came in to meet you.’ ‘You walked all the way?’ Radhai smiled. ‘You don’t need to pamper me so much! Don’t forget that I was born in a charioteer’s house before I was Angaraj’s mother.’ Proudly showing her the chariot, Karna said, ‘See! The chariot has turned out beautifully.’ ‘Yes! After all, the fine art of making a chariot is something our family is well known for!’ Radhai entered the huge workshop where many magnificent chariots were being readied. Noticing a sandalwood chair in the centre of a raised platform, she asked, her voice filled with anguish, ‘Is that the chair where …’ ‘Yes, that is his chair. He would supervise important tasks from here. I am not sure who can occupy it now—he had a command which is not easy to emulate.’ Letting out a deep sigh, Radhai caressed the chair gently. ‘People away, leaving their seats vacant. But it is good that they leave an exemplary legacy

which is not easy to follow.’ Radhai walked out the workshop slowly. Looking at Karna’s chariot, tears welled up in her eyes. Karna asked, seeing them, ‘Mother, why do you cry?’ She smiled, wiping her tears and said, ‘One does not cry tears of sorrow alone. Can’t they be tears of joy too?’ ‘Joy?’ ‘Yes, look at your chariot. I can imagine you standing in it in the same ranks as Bhishma, Drona and Kripacharya. A child of a charioteer’s house will have such honour! Isn’t that something to be proud of?’ She continued, ‘Bend down a little.’ Karna bent his head and Radhai’s trembling fingers ruffled Karna’s hair. Karna looked his mother a little surprised at the sudden display of emotions. He asked, ‘Mother, do you want to say something?’ ‘I want this look of yours etched in my memory. I have come to bid you goodbye, Karna.’ ‘Goodbye?’ Karna asked, his mind in turmoil. ‘It is good when joy follows sorrow, but it is very difficult to face sorrow after a joyful past. You made our life complete. The battle will start soon and no one knows what is in store for any one of us. God forbid if you were to not return … I could not bear the pain.’ Seeing Karna in tears, Radhai embraced him, saying, ‘Karna, your valour and wisdom are beyond compare. You have realized your greatness, and having fulfilled all my duties, I see no point in living anymore. Rather than face an unexpected tragedy, I would wait for you where you will arrive some day. And I know your father awaits me there.’ ‘What do you plan to do, Mother?’ Karna asked, despite knowing what his mother meant. ‘Don’t you worry, Karna. The currents, which safely bought you to me, will treat me gently as I travel on my last journey. After all, we call her mother, don’t we?

She will lovingly take me in her arms. I will go now, Vasu. Take care of yourself.’ Karna bent to put his head on his mother’s feet, his tears drenching her feet. He said, ‘Bless me, Mother!’ ‘Every breath I have taken has been a blessing for you, my dear. What more can I give you?’ ‘I don’t aspire for victory nor do I fear defeat. Mother, bless me to have the courage to face death as effortlessly as you do. When death comes calling, pray that I do not falter.’ Radhai wiped Karna’s tears. With a smile she turned to walk towards the river bank. Within a few minutes, she was enveloped in the mild mist which hung low. Karna was tempted to run and bring her back but all he could do was watch her gradually dissolve into the mist.

The sound of a chariot racing towards the workshop caught Karna’s attention. He turned to see Duryodhana approaching at full speed. He smiled as he got down but as soon as he saw Karna’s tears he asked, ‘What happened? Why do I see tears in your eyes?’ Karna smiled, wiping his tears and said, ‘We don’t cry only only from sorrow— we can cry tears of joy too.’ ‘Joy?’ ‘Yes, for someone like me, born in a charioteer’s home, to have a friend like you and to be made king of Angadesh, isn’t that something to be joyous about?’ ‘My friend, I came here to share some good news. We managed to convince King Shalya, while on his way to the Pandavas, to us.’ ‘Despite being part of their family, he …’ ‘They may be related, but he has decided to us. Our army is gathered at the edge of the city. We need to go there and boost their morale.’ ‘Yuvraj, get on to the chariot. I am now prepared to do whatever it takes to win!’ Both of them mounted the chariot and raced towards the border.

39

The sun burnt brightly on the vast banks of the river as Karna faced eastwards, offering his prayers. Feeling one with nature, his lips moved silently as he recited the mantras. Finishing his prayers, he raised his hands to the sun god and then, as always, took a palm full of water and bellowed, ‘Is there anyone in need here?’ A few moments ed. Not hearing a response, Karna touched his palms to his forehead and released the water into the river current. He reached the banks and slipping on his sandals, he turned to walk towards where he had left his angavastram. He stopped for there stood a person in white holding a blue angavastram above their head with both hands to shield themselves from the sun. The fluttering cloth hid part of the person’s face, and he was not able to recognize them. Karna was reminded of a flickering lamp, burning bright in the midst of the wide expanse of a sandy desert. Karna walked towards the stranger, his sandals crunching the sand as he wondered it could be. He mused aloud, ‘Would death come to meet me thus? Faceless, white-robed, steady, silent?’ As he came closer, he was startled to see that the person was a lady and he lowered his gaze automatically. Without bothering to collect his angavastram, he started to move towards his chariot when he heard her speak, ‘Karna, stop!’ ‘Who is it?’ Karna asked. The lady lowered her hands to reveal her face and Karna got a jolt; it was Kunti! Arjuna’s mother! The mother of his sworn enemy had come here all alone! Karna could not stop himself from staring at her spotless beauty. He had seen her often but never from such close quarters. A brief smile flickered across Kunti’s face. ‘You recognize me?’ Karna could detect a slight tremor in her voice. He folded his palms and said, ‘Who does not know you? Mother of the Pandavas, mother of the valiant Arjuna, Rajmata Kunti. I, son of Adhiratha the charioteer, salute you.’ Kunti’s heart wrenched as she said, ‘Is that the only way you know me?’

Karna looked at her and said, ‘What else can I say? You are the mother of princes! I wonder what makes you come here all alone in the hot sun when a battle is about to begin.’ Kunti’s heart ached as she said, ‘I have heard a lot about your charity, and I wanted to see it for myself.’ ‘I am unable to follow you, Mata,’ Karna said. ‘I am not here as a rajmata today. I stand before you as a beggar.’ Karna was taken aback and said, a little alert, ‘Beggar? Rajmata, I hope you are not pulling my leg. What can someone like you need when you have everything? You have sons like the mighty Bheema, the valiant Arjuna and the wise Yudhishthira! The greatest of men, Krishna, stands with you. Would anyone believe that you come here as a mendicant? As a rajmata it is not right to pose so. I beg of you to not make a mockery of my charity.’ ‘Karna, I am not mocking you. It is you who is mocking me! Don’t you know who I am?’ Karna began, ‘Yes! Rajmata Kunti, Arjuna’s mother …’ ‘Enough!’ Kunti said, tired of Karna’s taunts. ‘Why do you continue to hide under the cloak of ignorance? I know Krishna told you everything. I know you are aware of our relationship.’ Karna could not avoid being touched by the plea in Kunti’s voice. He said, his voice tinged with sarcasm, ‘Relationship? What use is that word when I have never experienced it?’ ‘Karna, will you listen to me?’ ‘What can I offer you, Mata? Except for my valour and my religion, please ask for anything and I shall gladly lay it at your feet.’ ‘Are you sure?’ Kunti asked, not convinced. Karna said, his voice steady and confident, ‘No one has ever suspected my ability to hold my own word, not even Lord Indra when he came here posing as

a poor Brahmin.’ ‘Your enemies may want you to lose, and that’s why they have taken away your armour. I don’t have any such desire. I am here with the hope that you win and it is this that makes me come here and beg.’ ‘Ask what you want! I have never asked anyone the reason behind what they ask of me.’ Looking at the burning sun, he said, ‘It is too hot out here. May I ask you to step into the shade of these trees?’ ‘My whole life has been scorched, thanks to the sun god.’ ‘Please,’ Karna persisted, pointing to a clump of trees nearby. ‘Let us go into the shade. We can talk at ease.’ Without waiting for her reply, Karna walked towards the trees. Kunti followed him, handing him his angavastram. He asked, when they reached the trees, ‘What can I give you?’ Kunti replied, ‘I want you, Karna! I have come here to take you away.’ ‘Take me away? Where to?’ Kunti said, ‘Where else can a mother take her child? Where else can she find a place other than her own heart?’ ‘I have heard that the spring of love erupts due to proximity. Where have you found such love now?’ Karna’s words pierced Kunti. She looked at Karna saying, ‘Ask Nakula and Sahadeva, who are Madri’s sons, whether they ever felt that I discriminated against them.’ ‘Don’t misunderstand me. I was not talking of siblings but of love which comes naturally.’ ‘The bonds of blood are not that weak.’ ‘Bonds?’ Karna laughed. ‘Mere knowledge is not enough for bonds to develop. They grow naturally, with time, with proximity. I may have known the true meaning of a mother had I been raised in your lap and suckled your milk. It is far too late for me now to accept a relationship and embrace my birth mother.’

‘Karna, a mother, however far away, can never be a stranger.’ ‘Perhaps—I do not want to insult motherhood. It is the same emotion which overwhelmed Radha when she saw a newborn floating in the river. How can I then taunt the woman who gave birth to me? I understand how you feel when you see me.’ Taking a deep breath, he continued, ‘But I … I see you as Arjuna’s … my enemy’s mother and no one else.’ ‘Karna!’ Kunti exclaimed in anguish. ‘Rajmata, I will always be grateful for your love. Knowledge acquired in the right way makes a man wise, but the same knowledge received from the wrong means can lead to destruction.’ ‘What are you talking about, Karna? There is no right or wrong way when it comes to motherly love. It only knows how to share its love. Karna, you are mine; there can be no doubt about it! No one else has a right which the real mother has. Only a mother knows the bond she has with her first born …’ ‘Stop it! Don’t talk of a motherhood tinged with shame.’ ‘Shame? Motherhood can never be shameful.’ ‘Is that so?’ Karna asked, his patience evaporating. ‘Recall the day you left your newborn son to his fate. That helpless infant was left to the vicissitudes of nature in a mere wicker basket. The child, barely able to see the world he was born in, was supposed to navigate his way looking at the constellations above? What crime had he committed for him to be abandoned? Where was your motherly love then? Did you not realize that the helpless infant may not survive the journey?’ Karna paused to take a breath before continuing, ‘How I wish that’s what had happened! I would not have had to endure the insults, the unending journey of my life, Mother! For what crime was I being punished?’ Kunti wiped her tears. ‘It was not your fault, Karna. The fault is mine. You have a right to say how you feel, but you must know one thing: you are a man and your logic suits you. I am but a woman and my limitations are different. I have to follow social mores which you can afford to ignore.’ A bitter smile spread across Karna’s lips. ‘Mores? Are you endorsing your crimes? The fact that you chose to ignore the facts led …’

‘Karna! Please control yourself!’ Kunti said, her voice steady. ‘You do not understand. A woman does not have the independence you men enjoy. Before marriage she is known as her father’s daughter and later as her husband’s wife. Her loyalties change. Where does she have an identity of her own?’ Karna challenged, ‘I would like to know what loyalty were you worried of betraying when you sacrificed me?’ Kunti’s voice was controlled when she said, ‘Let me tell you. It happened many years ago: my father Kuntibhoja was hosting the great, ill-tempered Rishi Durvasa. The sage wanted to perform a difficult religious ceremony to propitiate certain gods, and he wanted no disturbance. My father was in a dilemma—he wanted someone who could attend to the rishi’s needs and keep him in good humour because Durvasa was known for his short temper. Who would volunteer to work for him? I knew a single curse from the rishi was enough to destroy my father’s life. And so, a young girl, her father’s favourite and yet to become wise, was chosen to be the rishi’s caretaker! I can’t even begin to explain the kind of trouble I went in to humour the fancies of the rishi. Durvasa managed to perform his ceremony to his satisfaction, and he was pleased with my devotion that he chose me to be the witness to the results of his penance. He blessed with me a powerful mantra derived from the yajna. Leaving me with the powers of which I had no clue, he walked away.’ Kunti paused for a moment before continuing, ‘I was young and immature, and temptations ruled. One day, unable to hold back my curiosity, I uttered the mantra and within moments, a heavenly body in the form of a man lit with dazzling intensity arrived, ready to take me.’ Kunti hid her face, ashamed at being forced to describe the events. Karna said, ‘I beg you not to stop!’ ‘The light was too bright for me to ignore, and it had enveloped me before I could even react. Soon enough, you were growing in my womb! You can’t imagine the trauma I endured as an unmarried girl! I could not tell my father for he would have been shocked. I was lucky to find a confidante who took me to her ashram. My father, assuming that I was keen to experience a bit of forest dwelling, never suspected anything and I was able to give birth to you there. When I left you at the mercy of the river, it was not because I had no love for

you, but because my devotion to my father was too strong. I could not afford to hurt him. But you would never realize the trauma a mother goes through when her child is not with her. I would imagine you growing up, trying to walk and to talk—the very thought that some lucky mother was enjoying all those precious moments which were mine would make me despondent.’ Karna’s heart melted on hearing Kunti’s words. ‘I find that I cannot blame you anymore, Mother. I can only blame fate and tell myself that I was never meant to experience my birth mother’s love.’ ‘I know what you mean, Karna. I too have experienced it. I am not Kuntibhoja’s daughter. My father Shur gave me to his cousin Kuntibhoja, who was childless. From being Pritha, I came to be known as Kunti. I had nothing but faith to hold on to.’ Karna laughed. ‘Mother, you had your faith; but what about me? All I knew was how to flow with the currents. The streams have been taking me wherever they wish ever since the day you set me on them. An orphaned infant has no option but to let destiny decide its fate.’ Karna’s words crushed Kunti’s self-restraint and she embraced him tightly and said, ‘Karna, don’t! Don’t say you are an orphan when you stand in front of your mother. It tortures me!’ Kunti caressed Karna’s back lovingly. How reassuring her touch was! He knew now where the mighty Bheema and Arjuna derived their strength from! Karna felt her wet cheeks on his chest. He felt her fragrant but warm breath, and he had never experienced such solace. Kunti’s embrace broke all the barriers of his resistance and he surrendered to the sheer power of love as his tears drenched Kunti’s forehead. Coming to his senses after a while, he extricated himself from her arms. The tears on his cheeks shone in sunlight, and Kunti wiped them off with her fingers. Karna said, trying to smile, ‘Mother, I surrender! Your son has experienced all kinds of taunts, insults and sorrows but has never allowed himself the luxury of tears to express his emotions. You may not have been able to see me take my first steps or hear me speak for the first time, but you have seen this Angaraj, the one who would make a name for himself on the battlefield tomorrow, shed his

tears for you. You are lucky, Mother! Your embrace gives me to the power to face a hundred enemies in the battle now without fear of death.’ Kunti put her fingers on Karna’s lips saying, ‘Don’t say such things, Karna! A mother’s duty is to give life, not encourage death.’ Hearing of life and death, Karna was shaken; as if jolted from sleep. He said, ‘What life are you talking about?’ ‘The life that you deserve—one which is yours for taking.’ ‘Where?’ ‘On the other side of the river—where the Pandavas are camped. Where the bonds of blood tie you to your brothers. Where …’ ‘Why?’ Karna interrupted. ‘Why do I want to take you there? For I have a right as your mother! Because Karna, you are mine!’ ‘Do you really want me that badly, Mother?’ ‘Do you still doubt my intentions? I will do whatever you say to make you believe me. My children would willingly accept you. You would be anointed the eldest Pandava and …’ ‘Please don’t continue,’ Karna said. ‘And Draupadi will accept me as her sixth husband, isn’t it? Krishna has already said this and you don’t need to repeat it. I have nothing to do with it. You want me, don’t you?’ ‘Yes, I do.’ ‘Then there is a way.’ ‘Tell me, Karna,’ Kunti said eagerly. ‘I will do whatever you wish.’ Kunti’s words were like a cool breeze in the hot sun. Karna’s body shivered involuntarily as he said, ‘Mother, you gave the Pandavas all your love, affection and care. They have enjoyed your motherhood but the only one who was denied

that joy was me. Come with me, spend the rest of your days with me and let me enjoy your love.’ ‘Where do you want me to go?’ Kunti asked. ‘With me, to my camp, where I stay. You may not have the prestige of a rajmata there but I can tell you confidently that even Duryodhana would give you respect as Karna’s mother.’ Kunti had never expected Karna to make such a proposal, and she fell silent as she tried to search for an appropriate response. Karna was crestfallen at seeing Kunti hesitate. He said, ‘Mother, you don’t want me but you want your sons—the ones who grew under your care and love—to be safe. You know I can harm them. And that is why you have come here begging.’ ‘Karna!’ ‘I don’t blame you and nor do I doubt your intentions. Even if I were to come with you, your wishes would not be fulfilled. Pandu’s sons would not accept Surya’s son as their eldest. Merely having a common mother would not suffice. My presence there would be akin to a tiger in the midst of a herd of deer. There is no place for me anywhere. I am told the river meets the wide expanse of the ocean one day and I, floating on the currents of time, also hope to merge with it. Bless me, Mother, that my journey moves ahead till I flow into the ocean.’ Kunti’s voice was tired when she spoke. ‘Karna, I had come with a lot of hope …’ Karna smiled and he was his confident self now. He said, ‘Mother, I would not disappoint you. Would I, who had never sent even an enemy back empty-handed, let my mother go back dejected? Your wish would be fulfilled, Mother. I am indebted to my mother, but at the same time I cannot ignore the gratitude I have for my friendship. War is inevitable and I will certainly fight your sons and except for Arjuna, none are invincible. I will fight him alone, but one of us will survive—five of your sons will live to see the end of this war. I can make no other promises.’ Kunti’s voice was choked with emotions. She said, ‘You have given me whatever you had but I have not given you anything.’

‘Your blessings are invaluable, Mother! Bless me that I may not falter from my duty and be distracted by the need for fame.’ Kunti put her hand on Karna’s shoulder saying, ‘Karna, you are just the way I had imagined you to be. But I am surprised by one thing. For someone who lives by his ideals, it seems unthinkable that you are capable of committing a dastardly act.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘I am not sure if we will meet again, my son. Hence, let me clarify what was in my mind. I hope you will tell me the truth.’ ‘Mother, I have told a lie only once—when I wanted to learn the art of the brahmastra from Gurudev Parshurama.’ ‘Karna, I am told that when Draupadi was dragged into court, you suggested disrobing her. I don’t believe you could have said that, for someone born to me can never speak thus. This has been gnawing at my heart for a long time. Tell me, Karna! Tell me that this is not true.’ For a brief moment, Karna was shaken by Kunti’s ardent plea. Old memories and emotions surged as he recalled the event. He said, ‘It is true! It was I who suggested it.’ Kunti, shocked beyond belief, said in a voice tinged with sarcasm, ‘I cannot blame you. It is the company you keep.’ ‘Mother, don’t blame my friends. It is my values which made me speak thus.’ ‘What values are you talking about? A helpless, menstruating woman is dragged into full court and you order her to be disrobed? What kind of values are these?’ ‘Please pardon me, Mother, but you will not understand this. You need to be a man to appreciate what manly pride means.’ ‘Manly pride? Is that to show your superiority over a helpless woman?’ Karna laughed. ‘Helpless? Draupadi? It is unfortunate that you have not understood her feminine pride, her vanity and her brilliance. Draupadi and

helpless? Impossible!’ Pointing at the blazing sun in the sky, Karna said, ‘It is akin to saying the sun’s rays are soft and gentle. It is only I who knows the power of those rays and their ability to burn.’ ‘What are you talking about?’ ‘This happened during Draupadi’s swayamwar. I had accepted the challenge to pierce the eye of the fish and was about to release my arrow when your humble, well behaved and helpless Draupadi spoke up. Do you know what she said? Her words, even the very thought of them, burn a hole in me … She said …’ Karna’s face resembled the sun at its zenith. He paused for a moment before saying, ‘She said that a crow should not even look at a swan. A charioteer’s son cannot dream of marrying a princess. I returned, swallowing my hurt pride. I cannot describe the anger and turmoil which went through me.’ Kunti was about to speak when Karna continued, ‘Wait! It was not just that. During the feast for the rajsuya yajna, we were sitting in a row and Draupadi was serving us. When she reached me, her sari slipped from her shoulders, exposing her breasts for a moment. There was no lust in my mind but how could that rude, arrogant, beauty of hers afford to lose such a golden chance? She taunted me and said, “A beggar should not look at his donor.”’ Karna said, pounding his chest with his fist, ‘Mother, she spoke this way to Karna, a man known for his charity! A man known for his gentle behaviour. What crime had I committed for her taunt me like that? Was it just because I was raised in a charioteer’s house? ‘When Draupadi was dragged into the Kaurava durbar, I did not ire her looks. I was not aware of her helpless state. All I was aware of was of her unpardonable arrogance. There was no place for lust then. Her words rang in my ears. My pride got the better of me, and I ordered her disrobing, curious to see how a swan looked different from an ordinary woman …’ Kunti was silent. He continued, ‘Mother, if I had not known of our relationship, I would have done the same to you, had you insulted me the way Draupadi had. Lust did not even enter my mind when I asked her to be disrobed. Had disrobing her been about lust, I could have easily ordered her to be one of my maids. I could have accepted Krishna’s invitation and become her sixth husband. Don’t blame me—if you need to blame someone, it is Yudhishthira. It is he who agreed

to stake Draupadi and allow her to be dragged into the hall in public view.’ A slight smile on Kunti’s face surprised Karna. She ired the way Karna, filled with pride had defended himself. She said, ‘Karna, I don’t blame you but you failed to recognize Draupadi. You do not understand why she behaved like that. Your manly pride does now allow you to see how a jealous woman reacts. How can you expect someone to be spiteful and still show restraint? The sun and the moon cannot be in the sky at the same time, and if they ever are, one of them outshines the other. Karna, I will go, it is getting late.’ Karna looked around. There was no one accompanying her. The sandy banks burnt brightly in the hot sun. He said, ‘Mother, don’t go alone in the hot sun. It is the duty of a son to provide shade to his mother, but I have unfortunately lost that capacity, having poured all my energies into the promise I made to you. Mother, you held my angavastram when you came here. Take it back with you. Let it be a reminder of me. In case you need to see me again, send it back with a messenger. I will be reminded of my promise to you and shall come meet you.’ Karna bent to touch his mother’s feet. As he rose, Kunti hugged him again unable to hold herself together as sobs racked her body. Karna said, ‘Mother, know that I would not do anything to hurt you. I know my promise does not give you much happiness. I have one wish though: when you find out that I am about to meet my creator, shed a few tears … of satisfaction … of liberation. Because …’ Karna faltered, and with great effort he continued, ‘Because … there are very few to shed tears for me. Vrushali and Duryodhana may have tears in their eyes but they would be tinged with self-pity and selfishness. But your tears will be selfless and they would me in my final journey.’ Kunti could not speak. Using the angavastram to hide her tears, she turned and walked away.

40

Karna watched as Kunti walked towards the bank holding his blue angavastram. He kept staring at her unaware of the burning sun above. He could recall the moments in the past when he had met her. She had often embraced him when he visited the Pandavas. She had stroked his head affectionately. Karna had always been mesmerized by that sudden and unexpected display of affection. He ed she had once hugged Duryodhana and that she had blessed him cursorily when they had gone to seek her blessings during the rajsuya yajna. Karna wondered how much restraint she must have shown and not displayed her emotions openly. How must she have reacted when the Pandavas, having reached home after winning Draupadi in the swayamvar, had told her about how he had been insulted by Draupadi? He recalled how she had fallen unconscious when he had been challenged to prove his lineage during the archery competition. How had she managed to listen to the insults being heaped wrongly on her eldest son? Such thoughts troubled Karna. Unknowingly, his hand went to his cheek where Kunti had kissed him. Her touch still lingered, and Karna glanced in the direction of the river to see that Kunti had reached the boat. Why was it destined that I would meet her today? Why was the secret of my birth revealed today? Kunti has borne the burden for so long. Why did she decide to shed her load by revealing this secret to me today? Was it the love for her son that made her do so? A sudden realization dawned on Karna. Yes! It was the love for a son but not me! I am just an excuse. It is my charity which is his biggest attraction. A wry smile spread across Karna’s face. In the meanwhile, Kunti’s boat left the banks of the river. A childless Radhai’s motherly emotions were awakened by a helpless child floating on the river. She had borne children later, and Radhai and Adhiratha ascribed it to the good fortune of having found Karna first. Kunti, under the pretext of telling him the secret of his birth, has managed to ensure the safety of her children. My presence has helped both households to flourish but what have I found? I remain as orphaned as ever! Will I only be adopted only after my death?

‘Who am I?’ It was a question that had troubled him all his life. His whole life had seemed entangled in the answer. His dignity, his destination, his ambitions— they all seemed linked to that entanglement. The irony was that the truth, instead of liberating him, had made him rudderless. Life had no meaning now. Was this what self-realization led to? Karna had felt the same dejection when Krishna had revealed the secret of his birth. He may have lost the zeal to defeat his enemies, but he had managed to protect his reasoning, fearlessness and self-respect. He had been able to easily refuse the things Krishna had offered, but the meeting with Kunti had changed all that. How many people get a chance to lose one’s own self? To experience total surrender? It was as if life was complete after he had met Kunti. There was only one thing left to challenge his manhood, his daredevil nature and his consciousness now—death! He would have to accept defeat and the shame which would precede it. It would make Krishna happy and the Pandavas safe. It would make Kunti’s life peaceful. Duryodhana would find out the true meaning of friendship seeing his sacrifice on the battlefield. Other than welcoming death with open arms, Karna felt he had nothing else to look forward to. He belonged to no one. He was all alone in the truest sense. Karna looked up to see the sun overhead. The boat was nearing the other bank. Karna kept watching as it reached its destination. Isn’t life like that boat’s journey? Life is a boat afloat on the currents of time, with one’s relationships acting as oars and the ego acting as a sail. But is that enough to reach the other bank? You need the right winds of luck or you may continue to float aimlessly. Karna mulled over these thoughts as he walked back to his chariot. He could sense the dry, hot winds along the banks of the river. As he mounted the chariot and picked up the reins, the cool breeze in the shade of the trees made him uncomfortable. He spurred the horses and raced towards his palace at rapid pace. Vrushali, standing at the entrance, asked, ‘You took a long time with your prayers today.’ ‘I had a chance to meet the lord himself.’ ‘Really? What did he give you?’

‘Nothing. In fact, he took back whatever I had.’ ‘What kind of god is this?’ Vrushali asked. ‘The lord gives and not take away.’ ‘That is not always true, Vasu. Man’s life is not fulfilled only when he receives something from the lord. There are a few lucky souls whom the lord makes demands of! It makes life worth living. I have that happiness today. I feel as if a huge burden has been taken off me.’ Vrushali did not understand what Karna spoke or meant. But she was happy that he seemed content. She had never seen him so calm and at peace with himself. All Karna could see now was the battlefield of Kurukshetra, where he would face his death. But there was no fear in Karna’s mind now. He almost looked forward to it.

41

The holy town of Kurukshetra was on the banks of the River Hiranyavati. The ancestor of the Kauravas, Kuru had performed tapasya there and had asked Lord Indra for the boon that the land he had tilled should become a gateway to heaven for those who perish there in battle. It was there that the armies of the Pandavas and the Kauravas were gathering now. But this was different. The holy land, resonating with the sound of mantras and temple bells, was now being subjected to the sound of conch shells, trumpeting of elephants, rumbling of chariot wheels and neighing of horses. Where once hundreds of yajnas and sacrificial fires burnt, thousands of small and big camp fires brightened the night. On one side of the Hiranyavati was the Pandava camp while on the other, the Kauravas had assembled with their armies. The time for a devastating battle was near. The Kaurava commanders had gathered for a war council to decide who would be the commander-in-chief. Bhishma was the eldest and the rightful contender for the post. Duryodhana got up, folded his hands and said, ‘Pitamah, you are the eldest and the greatest of us all. I request you to take charge and lead us to victory.’ The other commanders nodded in agreement. Bhishma said, ‘Duryodhana, you know it is difficult for me to take sides. Both the Pandavas and the Kauravas are dear to me. Nevertheless, I will accept your request. However, I have two conditions.’ ‘Tell me what they are, Pitamah, I will happily agree,’ Duryodhana said. ‘I will kill ten thousand of the enemy each day …’ Duryodhana waited for Bhishma to continue. ‘… but I will not touch the Pandavas.’ The assembly was stunned into silence. Duryodhana, recovering quickly, said, ‘Your leadership is what matters. I am grateful that you have accepted the task.’ They then began to discuss their strategy and who would lead what part of the

battle. Karna’s name was left out of the discussion. Duryodhana asked, ‘Pitamah, don’t you have anything for Karna to do?’ Bhishma said in a derisive tone, ‘He is an ardharathi, the lowliest of fighters.’ The council was stunned into silence. Karna’s face reddened with anger. It was an insult difficult to swallow. Even a rathi could fight a few thousand enemies, Karna knew he was a far superior warrior than most of those in the council. Maintaining his composure, he asked, ‘Pitamah, why do you say that?’ ‘I don’t mind clarifying—if you are willing to be insulted here.’ ‘Pitamah,’ Duryodhana interjected. ‘Why you are insulting Karna?’ ‘I am not saying these things for the sake of it. I know he is a dear friend and that you have decided to fight this battle only because of him. I am also aware that he has achieved a lot through hardship, but it is his jealousy that pulls him down. He is an arrogant person by nature, and your indulgence has made him worse. That is why I call him an ardharathi. When he meets Arjuna in the battlefield, he will be no match for him.’ ‘Pitamah, I don’t understand why you are insulting me when I have done nothing to you. Your barbs are stronger than any arrows I would encounter in the battlefield. You may be the greatest warrior of us yet, look at your own behaviour. Despite enjoying the patronage of the Kauravas, you wish to see the Pandavas win. You have forsaken your claim to the throne, but not your desire for power. You agree to lead the Kauravas against the Pandavas and yet you refuse to fight them. You will not take up arms against Shikhandi. You find faults with the commanders of your army! Maharaj, it is not grey hair or age which makes one great. It is one’s strength and valour which determines greatness.’ Dronacharya was enraged by Karna’s words. He said to Bhishma, ‘Gangeya! Don’t bother giving credence to Angaraj. He boasts about his victories, and yet he has been seen running away from many battlefields. His only claim to fame is his friendship with Duryodhana.’ ‘Friendship?’ Karna erupted. ‘Acharya, do you even know the meaning of friendship? Unlike mantras which keep changing with every offering, friendship

is unchanging. You should be the last one to talk of friendship. Everyone knows about your friendship with Drupada. A sword may remain hidden in its sheath, but it must reveal itself finally. Merely being together does not make one a friend. If you really had loved Drupada, you would have pardoned him,’ Karna said, referring to the enmity between Drupada and Drona. ‘But insult reared its head and your ego was bruised. You made your students, the young princes, defeat Drupada as their guru dakshina. Was that friendship?’ ‘Radheya!’ ‘I am not done yet. I fought Jarasandha and defeated him for Yuvraj’s honour. Were you around to help then? I performed the digvijay yajna, but all you did was hope that I meet with some calamity. I had to, no doubt, flee the Gandharvas, but what about when we attacked Viraat? Let me jog your memory, Pitamah! While we were busy attacking Viraat, you were chasing after Uttara’s whims of clothes for her dolls. Is that what you call valour? If these are your definitions of a maharathi, then I am happy not to be one.’ Bhishma stood up and looked at Duryodhana. ‘Yuvraj, we have a battle to fight tomorrow and I don’t want to waste any more time arguing. But one thing is clear: As ling as I am alive, Karna cannot be a part of my army. It is either him or me.’ ‘So be it, Yuvraj,’ Karna said. ‘I would be happy if Bhishmacharya can lead this side to victory. And if he is unable to, I will help you achieve that outcome. I shall not fight till he is alive. I shall kill Arjuna only after Bhishma’s death.’ Saying so, Karna left the room without waiting for anyone to respond.

42

Karna’s camp was awake well before dawn. Shatrunjaya, Vrishaketu, Vrushasena and Dhrum were getting ready for battle. They entered Karna’s chamber for his blessings while Vrushali performed an aarti to ward off evil. Karna looked around and asked, ‘I don’t see …’ Chakradhar entered the room just then and said, ‘Here I am!’ Looking at Vrushali, ‘What shall I get you from the battlefield?’ ‘Bring yourselves back safe and sound. I don’t need anything else.’ Vrushali’s control broke the moment she saw them off. Seeing her cry, Karna hugged her saying, ‘Vasu, one should not cry while seeing someone off to the battlefield.’ They watched the men go from the balcony. They could see the chariots lit with lamps as they moved towards the battlefield. A cool breeze blew, and dawn was breaking on the eastern horizon. The stars had dimmed while the song of hundreds of birds filled the air. Suddenly, the sound of a distant but solemn trumpet broke the peace. It was a warning for the warriors to get ready. Vrushali looked in the direction of the sound, the fear flashing in her eyes. She knew that beyond the woods, the battlefield was witnessing a clash never seen before. As the sun barely glanced over the horizon, the conch shells announced the beginning of the war. Karna, as always, folded his hands in obeisance to the sun god. He said, ‘It has begun, Vasu.’ Both returned to their quarters without saying a word.

Day after day, the battle continued. Even on the ninth day, it was impossible to tell which side was winning. It was becoming impossible for Karna to keep sitting after the deaths of Shatrunjaya and Vrishaketu added to his grief and frustration. On the ninth evening, Karna welcomed a battle-weary Duryodhana into his tent. Duryodhana said, ‘Friend, I have come here to change your mind.’ ‘What do you mean?’ Karna asked. ‘It has been nine days of battle, but there is no end in sight. All I see is the sacrifice of my men one after another.’ ‘But isn’t Bhishma killing ten thousand enemy soldiers each day?’ ‘Yes, he is—and also ensuring that the Pandavas remain alive!’ Duryodhana said. ‘Yuvraj,’ Karna laughed. ‘I hope you have keeping count of the men he’s killing. Otherwise, he may feel bad that he did not live up to his promise.’ ‘I come here tired and dispirited and all you can think of is a joke?’ ‘I understand, Yuvraj. But honestly, Pitamah needs to use the great warrior skills that he has.’ ‘The only thing he has done worth mentioning so far is killing Uttara’s brother Shweta.’ ‘You are forgetting that he made Krishna pick up a weapon, much against his vow.’ ‘Thank our stars that Krishna did not use it …’ Duryodhana muttered. ‘Yuvraj, don’t be so upset. Pitamah has challenged the mighty Parshurama. Don’t doubt his capabilities. The moment he makes up his mind to win, there is no one to equal him.’

Duryodhana sighed deeply and said, ‘But when will that happen?’ Karna said, ‘Yuvraj, tell Pitamah that if he has lost his ability to fight, he should retire.’ ‘How will that help?’ Karna laughed saying, ‘Don’t forget he is a real Kshatriya. There is nothing more insulting for a Kshatriya than to give up his arms. The moment you challenge his ego, he will be the warrior everyone fears.’ Encouraged by Karna’s words, Duryodhana got up excitedly and left. That night, Karna was about to retire, when Duryodhana came in and said, ‘Karna, your ploy worked! The moment I suggested Pitamah relinquish his command, he hissed like a cobra and instantly took a vow.’ ‘Really? What did he say?’ ‘He said, “Duryodhana, listen to me! Before dusk tomorrow, I will ensure that the Pandavas are dead.”’ Karna hugged Duryodhana in a rush of emotions and said, ‘Yuvraj, your victory is ensured.’ Duryodhana continued, ‘When I asked him what he would do if he was unable to fulfil his vow, he said he would either fulfil it or would not remain alive.’ Karna was disturbed hearing Duryodhana and said, ‘You have given him an escape route now. I regret that I won’t be there on the battlefield to see his valour.’ Duryodhana left soon after, and Karna felt a great sense of relief as he moved to his quarters, but that very feeling had left him disturbed.

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Karna paced his room restlessly the next morning. When Vrushali came in, she noticed his agitated state and raised her eyebrows questioningly. Karna said, ‘Vasu, today is the tenth day of the battle today but all I can do is sit and wait for news to trickle in. How I wish I had not taken that vow …’ ‘It is not your fault given how you were insulted by Pitamah.’ ‘I have been insulted all my life. I think I was looking for an excuse to avoid the battlefield. But I cannot avoid the battle of my life, can I?’ ‘Are you saying you made an excuse?’ Vrushali asked, surprised. Karna realized he may have blurted out the truth inadvertently and laughed, trying to make a joke of his confession. ‘My army, my children, my brothers— everyone else is on the battlefield while I sit here. Doesn’t it mean I am avoiding battle? For all you know, the battle may end today and I …’ Karna stopped mid-sentence and he ran towards the window, adjusting his angavastram on his shoulders. The sound of the conch shells had just announced the end of the day. The sun was descending below the horizon as they both reached the window. ‘Vasu, was that an announcement of victory? Who won? Who has cheated death once more?’ A chariot raced towards Karna’s palace at that moment. All kinds of worrisome thoughts flashed across Karna’s mind and by the time he ran towards to the main door, the chariot carrying Dhrum, Chakradhar and Vrushasena had reached the door. A relieved Karna received them joyfully and asked Chakradhar, ‘Has Pitamah lived up to his vow?’ ‘Pitamah’s valour was unparalleled. If only the Pandavas had not lived to see another day!’ ‘Chakradhar!’ Karna exclaimed, unable to believe what he had just heard. ‘Pitamah had to face Shikhandi, forcing him to put his weapons down. And

Arjuna, standing behind Shikhandi …’ ‘Did he kill Pitamah?’ ‘No! Pitamah enjoys a boon which allows him to die whenever he wishes. He is lying on a bed of arrows on the battlefield. It is the winter solstice right now. Pitamah wishes to die when Uttarayan, the summer solstice, begins.’ ‘Won’t you bring him to the camp?’ ‘No, he wants be on the field. He refused to even remove the arrows stuck in his body and refused the comfort offered by Duryodhana.’ ‘Are you saying he is lying there in the open?’ ‘That is correct. All he has agreed to is a layer of wild grass to be spread over the bed of arrows. The entire Kaurava army is demotivated after seeing him fall.’ ‘What about the battle?’ ‘Dronacharya took charge. The Pandava camp is reverberating with trumpets announcing victory.’ ‘What a pity that they are celebrating when Pitamah lies on the battlefield. They may have earned a victory, but they don’t seem to see the valour behind Pitamah’s act. I cannot believe that Pitamah had to face such a situation in the battlefield!’ News of Pitamah’s fall made Karna forget all about his anger and the insults he had had to bear. All he could was Pitamah’s glowing face, his sacrifice and the innumerable victories he had earned for the empire. Bound to his duty and honour, he was undoubtedly the most revered person in the entire Kuru clan, and was celebrated for his ethics. It was a stark contrast to see the soldiers running scared on the battlefield while Bhishma, who would die at his own will, lay peacefully on a bed of arrows as he awaited death at his chosen hour. Karna’s reverie broke as he heard a chariot approaching. He turned to see Ashwatthama getting down. Holding back his tears he said, ‘Karna, Pitamah …’

‘I know,’ Karna said, putting his hand on Ashwatthama’s shoulder. ‘Angaraj! Our troops have lost their morale when Pitamah fell. My father and Yuvraj are trying to boost their morale, but they need your presence now. Yuvraj asked me to bring you to the battlefield as soon as possible.’ ‘I am eager to reach there too.’ Turning to Chakradhar, he said, ‘Get the chariot ready.’ As he entered his quarters, he ordered, ‘Hurry up! Bring my gold-plated armour and fill my quiver with sixteen arrows. I need my white steeds to pull my chariot. Adorn the chariot with my flag, its lotus insignia will tell my enemies that it is Karna who rides in the golden chariot. Today, I am going to enter the battlefield with the sole intention of defeating the Pandavas. We cannot afford to waste a single moment now!’ Within no time Karna’s chariot was ready. Vrushali came in with an aarti tray to see him off. Putting a tilak on his forehead, she tied her stole around his waist and said, ‘I will be waiting for you.’ ‘I shall come back to tell you tales of my valour. Please give me my conch.’ Vrushali brought out a conch shell from the sanctum sanctorum of the small prayer room. It was a lovely shell encrusted with gold. Touching it reverently to his forehead, Karna got into his chariot. He turned to smile at Vrushali and then ordered the chariot to Duryodhana’s camp. Chakradhar and Ashwatthama followed Karna. As soon as Karna’s chariot approached Duryodhana’s camp, the soldiers, recognizing him, erupted with joy. Duryodhana welcomed Karna lovingly. He said, ‘You need to command the army. Everyone is eagerly waiting for you.’ ‘Yuvraj, I will be committing a grave error if I were to do so. Dronacharya, who has taken on the task after Pitamah fell, is the right person for this task.’ ‘But you …’ ‘Don’t worry about me! It is my good fortune to fight under his command. And don’t worry, you’ll hear of my exploits soon.’

They went to meet Dronacharya, who was busy directing the war from the midst of action. On their request, he accepted the task of commanding the army. After a formal ceremony anointing him the new commander-in-chief, the Kauravas attacked with renewed vigour till it was dusk and the end of the day was announced. The moment they reached their camp, Karna said, ‘Yuvraj, I have made an error I must correct right away.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘I should have taken Pitamah’s blessings before getting onto the battlefield, but there was no time then. I will go meet him now.’ ‘Shall I come along?’ ‘No, I want go alone.’ It was long past sunset. The lamps in the four corners of Karna’s chariot flickered in the wind. An eerie silence greeted Karna as his chariot raced through the battlefield shining in the moonlight. Gone were the trumpeting elephants, the neighing horses and the sounds of the chariot wheels. The cacophony of the conch shells, the clanging of swords or the screams of agony were absent now. Navigating his chariot carefully to avoid dead soldier’s body, Karna reached his destination, clearly marked by a row of lamps. Glancing at another chariot standing nearby, Karna asked the servants who came forward to receive him, ‘Who else is there?’ ‘It is Dwarakadheesh Maharaj Krishna,’ the servant said reverently. ‘And?’ ‘No one else. Everyone else left a long time ago.’ Placing his crown on the seat of his chariot, Karna walked towards Bhishma’s resting place. A burning torch nearby lit half of Bhishma’s face. Karna’s eyes filled with tears on seeing the great warrior lie peacefully in full armour, his eyes closed. His white beard flowed over his chest. The wounds had not taken away his energetic glow, and there was not a trace of agony on his face. Touching Bhishma’s feet, he rested his head on them and cried silently. Karna, who had

often been insulted by the same Bhishma, was surprised at his own reaction. Bhishma asked, ‘Who is it?’ ‘It is Karna, come to take your blessings,’ Krishna said, getting up. He had been sitting and watching the scene unfold silently. ‘I will take your leave now, Pitamah,’ he said, and Bhishma nodded. Glancing at Karna, Krishna turned to leave when he heard Karna say, ‘Krishna!’ Krishna looked at Karna’s face as a tear ran down his cheek. Krishna gently wiped away Karna’s tear. It was enough to make Karna lose his composure and he lost himself in Krishna’s embrace, sobbing like a child. Karna could feel Krishna’s hand on his back as he extricated himself away from his embrace. He could see a strange sadness in Krishna’s eyes. It was the same look he’d worn when he had seen Draupadi being disrobed publicly. After a brief silence, Krishna walked away silently towards his chariot. Karna heard his name being called out, ‘Karna!’ Karna, turning towards the prone Bhishma, said, ‘My lord! I, the one you have never liked, is here to ask your forgiveness.’ ‘Forgiveness? What for?’ ‘I should have come to see you sooner, but I just didn’t have the time.’ ‘No, Karna, you did what was right. A warrior’s place is the battlefield. I heard from Ashwatthama that you willingly allowed Acharya Drona to take charge. You did the right thing. Come here, Karna, o great warrior! Come near me.’ Karna was overwhelmed being addressed thus by Bhishma. ‘I am happy to see you. I know you have your pride and having insulted you often, I wondered whether you would come to see me. My ego would not have allowed me to call you, but I would have been miserable if you had not come.’ For a moment Bhishma fell silent, and he licked his dry lips before continuing. ‘I have insulted you often. It is quite natural that you would not want to meet me.’

‘That is not true. In fact, you have a right to say whatever you feel like.’ Bhishma, apparently relieved at Karna’s response said, ‘Karna, I know your heart is pure, or you would not be shedding tears seeing me in this state. You may be proud, but it is not false pride. Did you know—every time I insulted you and saw your ego bruised and your pride wounded, it gave me a perverse pleasure?’ Karna was surprised on hearing Bhishma’s confession. But before he could speak, Bhishma continued, ‘I have called you arrogant, but I knew that the words hardly affected you. A warrior needs, apart from armour for his body, a mind which cannot be pierced. Pride, ego and professional rivalry are his real armour. They may look like weaknesses to others but they are his true protection, greater than his armour or his bows and arrows. I am a Kshatriya, and I can proudly say that there is no warrior who can equal me. It was only you who truly could challenge me. I wish you had realized that my insults were more out of jealousy and in some sense, that is praise for you.’ ‘Pitamah, a mere charioteer’s son …’ ‘Karna, have you come here alone?’ Karna was taken aback by Bhishma’s question. He looked around to see the guards standing out of earshot. He said, ‘There is no one around.’ ‘Karna,’ Bhishma continued, ‘You are not a charioteer’s son. You are a Kaunteya.’ A shiver ran down Karna’s body. He said, his voice quivering, ‘How … how do you know?’ ‘Are you also aware of it?’ ‘The irony is the delay in finding out. Krishna told me first, but I didn’t know that you …’ Bhishma let out a deep sigh and said, ‘Vidura could not hide this secret from Krishna—how could I not know? Karna, you know who you are. Don’t trust what is not true.’

‘What do you suggest I do?’ Karna asked, his voice emotionless. ‘You should go and meet your brothers. You are not just Kunti’s son but the eldest Pandava. It would be their honour to receive you. Your mother would be relieved and Krishna will be happy. I hope this war ends with my death and that everyone returns to their lives peacefully.’ ‘And what about Duryodhana? Where should he return to?’ Karna asked, his voice taking on an edge. ‘What?’ ‘Pitamah, what should he, who has plunged into this battle depending on me, do? How cheated would he feel if I hands with the Pandavas? His friendship is a treasure I cannot afford to lose. My own life is meaningless in comparison.’ Bhishma was silent for a few moments. He said, ‘I am proud of you, Karna. Your loyalty towards your friendship overwhelms me. What right have I to force you when I have failed in my loyalties and been biased in my love? I loved Pandu more than his brother and, seeing his sons being rendered fatherless, I carried my bias towards them too. My eagerness to protect them made the others jealous. While I ensured that I performed my duties in Hastinapur with the utmost loyalty, I can never honestly say whether it from mere duty or true devotion. I hope your friendship gives him the happiness which I could not. I hope your devotion to your friendship, despite knowing your true identity, gives you what you want.’ ‘Pitamah, I would have been happier not knowing the secret of my birth. Krishna told me when he had failed in his efforts to mediate. I have been looking for my mother all my life and I finally met her when war was knocking at the door. The loss of my armour and earrings has ensured that the Pandavas will remain safe. I have nothing but my ego to boost my confidence. I hope Gurudev Parshurama’s curse will come true, and I will not be able to use the brahmastra against my brothers. After all, how can I? I am the eldest, am I not?’ Wiping his tears, Karna continued, ‘I know my friendship has lost its meaning, Pitamah. I feel ashamed each time I see Duryodhana, and I am suffocated when he hugs me. What victory can I offer my friend?’ ‘Please control yourself, Karna. You don’t have to take the blame for what fate has delivered to you. Do not doubt your capabilities, Karna. It is not easy to have

won a blessing from someone like Bhagwan Parshurama. You are, undoubtedly, the greatest of warriors and you have god-like qualities in you. Not even the mighty Arjuna or Krishna can compete with your skills of archery. Your skill is beyond compare.’ Bhishma was relieved to see a smile flicker across Karna’s face. He continued, ‘This is not false praise, Karna. Who can forget the way you defeated the invincible Jarasandha singlehandedly to win Bhanumati for Duryodhana? You have demonstrated how one should rule by your character, integrity and your large-heartedness. You have no equal when it comes to living by example.’ ‘Enough, Pitamah! What is the point in recounting my valour? Despite being the mighty Surya’s son and being a Kaunteya, I have been insulted all my life as a charioteer’s son. Where was my mother or the elders of the Kuru clan who knew of my birth when I was being taunted about my parentage? On the contrary, they ed in the jeering and insulted me further. I lived by my values and ideals all my life, but the single act of ordering Draupadi disrobed has left an indelible mark on my spotless life. I was made a victim of my charity and forced to give up my armour and my earrings. And what did I earn for my devotion to my guru, when I silently suffered the sting of an insect lest I wake him as he rested on my thigh? A curse! We are told to live life with our ideals. But what did my ideals lead to? Krishna and Kunti got what they wanted and I earned my defeat in return. I had got one priceless friendship but that too seems meaningless now. It seems I am not destined to see success in my life.’ Bhishma smiled at him. ‘Karna, who else has achieved what you have? There are many like Drupada, Virat or Shalya who have conquered quite a few things, but is anyone going to them after they are gone? I lived a life of celibacy and fought countless battles against desire. And yet I lie on this bed of arrows at the end of my life? Do you know why? ‘Those who live only for enjoyment are never ed later. Such lives come here to live on their past credit. With death, everything they did here ends. But there are a few who come here to make others’ life better. They make the world a better place by their sacrifices. They inspire people even after their death. That is the true meaning of success. That is true achievement. Life’s greatness is measured in not what you take but what you give. Dhruva managed to get a permanent place up in the sky. No one can match you when it comes to the kind of success you have achieved.’

‘Pitamah, I don’t regret that I may be the cause of my own destruction but to leave my only friend …’ Karna could not continue. Bhishma said, ‘Don’t try to explain, Karna. I know. I have experienced this too, though in a different way. You are the eldest and the greatest of the Kaunteyas. Ask me for a boon!’ ‘Boon?’ Karna paused for a moment and said, ‘Pitamah, give me the power to be able to face death the way you have. That is the only thing I wish for; I have nothing but my life to offer to my friend. To sacrifice myself on the battlefield is what remains. Give me the strength to face my death without hesitation.’ Bhishma raised his trembling hands in blessing. Karna held Bhishma’s hands lovingly. Bhishma said, ‘Had I not been lying this way, I would have embraced you. I pray that you get what you wish for. You will be able to face your final moments in all your glory and that will also be a matter of praise when you are gone. May your name shine forever! Go without hesitation. My blessings are with you.’ Karna placed Bhishma’s hands gently on his chest and then stepped back. Bhishma had closed his eyes. Touching Bhishma’s feet, Karna turned and walked towards his chariot, his heart full.

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Karna held the reins firm as his chariot crossed the battlefield that night. He looked around the silent space, awash with the light from the night sky. It was the month of Kartik, the beginning of winter. In the cool easterly breeze, the wide expanse of the battlefield looked serene. The night was young, and Karna did not want to return to his camp. He was overwhelmed having met Bhishma and wanted to savour thier conversation. His chariot raced past the Kaurava camp and reached the river bank. Stepping down on the sandy banks, Karna looked at the sliver of the River Hiranyavati’s flow, shining in the moonlight. He could see, on the other bank, the faint outlines of the Pandava camp, the burning torches at regular intervals throwing a hazy light through the mist. The sand crunched below as Karna walked across the bank towards the river, its flow mesmerizing him. Why does the river attract me so much? How often I have asked her, ‘Whose hands left me floating in your currents? Did that person say anything before leaving me to my fate? When those delicate hands touched your flow, didn’t her tears move you? Despite knowing the answers to those questions now, you still attract me. Why do I stand here in your presence introspecting when I should be worrying about the battle tomorrow, where I have to make many sacrifices, my ears filled with the twang of arrows as they take their revenge against enemies and allow jealousy, pride and aggression to replace peace and harmony. Why am I attracted to you?’ Karna smiled at his own thoughts. How can I forget that the journey of my life began with you? The greatest of the charities were given and received here. Now it is time for the ultimate sacrifice, the final act. The thought made Karna shiver and he wrapped his upper garment around his shoulders. I am not afraid of death. When life has lost meaning, what is left to fear? All streams, after all, finally merge into the vast ocean. This life too will lose its identity once it merges with the Brahman. I wonder why, on the way to one’s final destination, the attraction to experience continues. I should have asked Pitamah, who has crossed the thin line separating life and death with ease. It is easy to embrace death, but I wonder

how easy it is to look at him while he waits at the door? Old age is worse than death. At least in death, you lose everything instantly but an old man dies a little each day. Despite knowing this, what made Bhishma, who has a boon to die when he wishes, continue to live? What force made him hold on to life? Was it to enjoy the fruits of his labour and the sacrifices he had made? Was it the thrill of controlling the empire remotely? But why should I be worried? I have no time to think when death waits for me. Death! Should it not be a welcome word? That final destination where all life’s troubles end and life itself comes to a standstill, leading to everlasting rest. But the very utterance of the word makes one recoil as if one has touched a slimy insect who bores deep into one’s thigh. Karna shuddered at the memory of the insect bite which he had borne quietly lest he disturb the sleep of Guru Parshurama. He wrapped himself in his angavastram. An egret, disturbed by the sudden movement, flew away into the night sky crying shrilly. Karna turned to move towards his chariot and was about to get on it when the mellifluous sound of a flute stopped him. The sound drifted over from the other side of the river. Who would play such sweet music at this hour? Tomorrow, the battlefield will witness intense fighting. Isn’t it ironic that I hear such a melody before that? Could it be Krishna living up to his promise? Or is he playing the flute to soothe his own tortured soul? Karna ed the intensity of the pain he had seen in Krishna’s eyes where Bhishma rested. Pitamah! The eldest and most respected amongst us. He had given the honour of agrapooja to Krishna during the rajsuya yajna. Krishna! I wonder how much agony you felt while sending Shikhandi to face Bhishma knowing that he would never fight a woman. How much torment did you endure when you asked Arjuna to release the arrow? Karna strained his eyes but the faint mist covering the river made it impossible for him to see anything. The melodious strains of the flute floated gently over the river. He sat down, mesmerized by the sound, his head resting on his palm. What magical qualities the flute had to soothe a tormented soul! The notes reminded Karna of how a honey bee, having enjoyed the nectar inside the lotus

flower all night, is lured out gently by the soft rays of the morning sun. They say the flute is a mere piece of hollow bamboo and has nothing in it except a few holes. The magic is created by the way one blows into it and by the fingers which regulate the air. That is what Krishna had said too. Breath! The essence of what differentiates the dead from the living. Not everyone is lucky enough to be filled with such divine breath. The air used to light a fire is no different from the air which extinguishes the lamp at a temple, and yet they act so differently! Aren’t our bodies like to the flute? God fills our bodies with his divine breath and we feel we are alive. One lives with the constant fear that the music may stop any moment. Finally, all that is left behind is the mere body. One day, a fatal breath destroys everything and only memories linger. All one can recall is the sweet melody of the notes left behind. But do we even pause to think of the divine who fills us with his breath? Karna looked up at the sky to see the moon slowly emerging from behind a veil of clouds. Does one forget that one is mortal? I have been reminded every step of my life, beginning with my first journey floating on the river currents. It was the sun god’s blessings which sailed me through such times. It was the meeting with my mother which brought me face to face with it. No one has seen death as closely as I have. Why then should I fear it? Death is not an end in itself. It is just another change. We fear change and are afraid of death. The snows on the mighty Himalayas melt in summers, but that does not mean the purpose of the ice ends there. It converts into the gushing waters of the Ganga. Does Ganga, merging into the vast ocean, lose herself? Isn’t that another form of hers? With renewed confidence, Karna looked up, ready to face whatever fate had to offer. Why should one fear the unknown? After all, our bodies are changing each moment. Why do we fear such a large change? Do we even notice the end of our childhoods as we enter our youth and then crawl into old age? Why then be scared of yet one more change? The reason must be discontentment. What else can it be?

I got what I wanted in my life. My mother may have left me to my destiny, but the river helped me to float gently on her currents. I was fortunate to have Radhai and Adhiratha as parents and a friend like Duryodhana. It was his love which helped me become a king. I have a wife like Vrushali and children I can be proud of. Isn’t that a fulfilled life?’ Is life’s success measured in material wealth, fame or in the fulfilment of one’s desires alone? Such things are enjoyed even by the basest animals. Man’s success cannot be measured in worldly matters alone. There is something beyond, which I have been lucky enough to have achieved, These will last even beyond my death. I have been able to touch the hearts of not just my friends but also my enemies. What else can I ask for as a measure of success? Karna smiled at his thoughts. The flute had stopped. Silence, as before, prevailed. The moment someone stops blowing air into the flute, the melody stops. This body will stop too when the final breath is blown, leaving behind nothing but memories. A life of loneliness, a life of unconditional charity, a life of tolerance … Let those who are destined to live do so. Let their lives be illuminated by my death. Karna folded his hands in the direction of the Pandava camp and walked back towards his chariot. The torches in his chariot had burnt themselves out. Karna turned to look at the river bank as it was enveloped in the rolling mist. The other bank had disappeared in the dense mist.

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On the other bank, a tired Krishna walked back to his tent. In the darkness, enhanced by the mist and the stillness all around, there was no one awake except the guards who sat warming themselves around the small fires they had lit. Krishna acknowledged their salutes as he moved the curtain of his tent to find Vidura sitting there. Vidura was dozing and Krishna entered with silent footsteps lest he wake him up, but at that moment, his flute touched one of the tall brass lamp stands in the entrance, making a tinkling sound. Vidura got up hurriedly seeing Krishna inside. ‘Please sit down, Vidura. Don’t get up.’ Vidura looked questioningly at the flute. ‘You want to know where I was in the dead of the night.’ Vidura nodded. ‘This is the only recourse I have to soothe my soul. I had gone to the river bank to find some solace but instead of finding peace, I was even more troubled. I wonder what his condition was!’ ‘Who are you talking about?’ Krishna spoke, as if he knew who he was referring to. ‘I found a tired soul as an audience today.’ ‘Do you know who it was?’ ‘Well, I can’t say for sure as he was on the other bank, the Hiranyavati flowing in between us. To add to it, there was a mild fog which made visibility very poor.’ Vidura noticed Krishna was in tears as he spoke. Krishna, realizing that he his emotions were raw, quickly changed the topic and asked, ‘So, what brings you here at this hour?’ Krishna’s question seemed to have troubled Vidura who got up and moved closer to the fire, warming his fingers as he said, ‘To see Pitamah lying on the bed of

arrows was an unexpected shock to me. I have lived a life being referred to as a maid’s child, bearing all the trials and tribulations which come along with it. I have been lucky to have Dhritarashtra’s love, and I am indebted to the affection I received from Bhishma. My sacrifice and my pursuit for knowledge made sense till he was alive. I feel orphaned now. Krishna …’ Vidura stopped mid-sentence as he felt Krishna’s loving touch on his shoulders. Tears flowed down Vidura’s cheeks as he spoke, and Krishna was overwhelmed seeing his emotional state. Vidura continued, his voice full of anguish, ‘Krishna, tell me! What is the purpose of this war? What will anyone get out of it?’ ‘Complete destruction,’ Krishna said, in a quiet voice. ‘For what?’ ‘A man’s ego and the greed for power.’ ‘Are you saying you are happy about the outcome?’ Vidura asked, a little surprised. ‘This is just the beginning, Vidura. I have to be ready for a lot more. Dronacharya, the guru who taught Pandavas the art of war, will have to die at the hands of his own disciples. Karna, whose charity has made the Pandavas fearless now, will be killed by his own brothers. The fact is the Pandavas together are not enough to defeat him and I will have to step in, the way I needed to bring Shikhandi in front of Bhishma and clear the path for Arjuna. You are away from the battlefield and can watch from a distance, but I am in the midst of it, Vidura. I am trying to find the strength to do what I have to.’ Vidura said, avoiding Krishna’s gaze, ‘Why don’t you try and stop the war instead of finding the strength to continue?’ ‘Do you think I enjoy this? But we should have been thinking about this before the arrow leaves the bow. Do you have another suggestion?’ ‘I think there is …’ Vidura said, ‘… if Karna is made aware of his lineage …’ ‘He knows.’ Vidura, surprised at Krishna’s words, asked, ‘Who told him?’

‘I did … and Bhishma—and his mother herself!’ ‘Yet it did not change his mind?’ Vidura asked, his shoulders sagging. ‘He was overwhelmed by knowing who he was. He accepted it wholeheartedly but he is duty-bound to continue along his path.’ ‘What duty are you talking about?’ ‘The only thing left in his life is his devotion to his duty—his friendship with Duryodhana. Nothing will sway him away from it.’ ‘Is it right to stick to a friendship which is on the wrong side of dharma?’ ‘Right or wrong, who is to determine that? If you look at it carefully, we determine what is right when it suits us, and the moment it does not, it becomes wrong.’ ‘Krishna, are you of all people, saying this?’ ‘Why are you so surprised? You are an enlightened soul. You have spent all your life in the pursuit of knowledge. Your strength is your clear, balanced and unbiased logic. Can I ask you something directly?’ Krishna continued, seeing Vidura nod. ‘If you believe that the Kauravas are wrong, why are you, Pitamah, Dronacharya, Kripacharya and so many others fighting for them?’ ‘Where else can we be? What recourse did we have?’ ‘Is that an honest answer?’ Krishna asked, his smile said everything that he left unsaid. ‘Don’t try to defend yourself, Vidura. You could have freed yourself if you wanted to.’ ‘Freed?’ ‘Yes,’ Krishna said, looking into Vidura’s eyes. ‘Bhishma is pitamah, the eldest and the most respected. Having seen the inevitably of the war, he could have easily gone off into vanaprastha, to retire into the forest. Who could have stopped him? Didn’t my elder brother Balarama, Duryodhana’s bosom friend,

decide not to the war when he found out about my for the Pandavas? Despite the advantage of your age and wisdom, you did not exercise your wish as …’ ‘Go on, Krishna,’ Vidura said, seeing Krishna hesitate. ‘I want to hear your point of view.’ Krishna’s unwavering gaze was focused on Vidura. ‘You confused your allegiance to the Kauravas as your duty. Your loyalty towards your duty overshadowed your love for the Pandavas. It was a curse you had to bear and an insult to your wisdom.’ Vidura’s face fell on hearing Krishna’s words. His lips quivered as he looked for a suitable reply. He said, ‘Krishna, I could say the same thing about you. What made you choose the Pandavas?’ ‘I have been searching for my answers, Vidura. Loyalty is not just dictated by duty but is influenced by love too. I met the Pandavas during Draupadi’s swayamvar. Kunti is my father’s sister, and the Pandavas are my cousins. But it was their virtues which attracted me to them and not our familial relationship. I was the only one representing them when they married to Draupadi. I gifted them immense wealth, and our love deepened with constant companionship. They had no one to them except me, and I helped them to set up their kingdom in the forest, transforming Khandavprastha into a lovely city. They were able to conduct the yajna, thanks to the of my army. I did not realize then that human life itself is a game of dice. When the Pandavas lost everything in the game of dice, I could not desert them though they were banished to the forest. The entire Yadava clan, sans a few people, are all in of the Kauravas. You and I, in some sense, are two sides of the same coin of loyalty.’ ‘What are you saying, Krishna?’ Vidura asked, surprised. ‘You are the one who advised Arjuna in the early days of the war. It is your advice which makes him so determined. How can you say such things?’ Krishna’s laugh was humourless. ‘It is easy to dole out advice but very difficult to internalize it. Isn’t it ironic that I, who advised Arjuna not to bother about results when taking action, was hoping that he would be the victor! Bheema makes new promises each day under the influence of revenge. Arjuna, in his

arrogance, thinks he is invincible and that there is no archer equal to him. No one knows when Yudhishthira will throw away everything he has in this final gamble. I believe in only two things.’ ‘And those are?’ ‘My allegiance to the Pandavas and that steadfast loyalty ensures that I will somehow manage to help them achieve their goal. It is that fidelity that makes me tolerate this. The war is inevitable and whether we get praise or criticism, the two of us would have to bear it.’ ‘Two? Who are you referring to?’ ‘Karna and I. Look at the irony of fate! I advise Arjuna but Karna follows it unknowingly. There is no one like Karna who has the balance of mind to treat sorrow and joy, success and defeat, reward and failure with the same equitable detachment. Tomorrow, when he enters the battlefield, his shining glory will make everyone around happy. He has no personal agenda in the battle. He has given up the very armour which protected him. With his imperturbable intelligence, he has given up everything for his affection to his friend. The Pandavas believe that I have god-like qualities; which maybe the reason why Arjuna sought me out. Whom does one consider great? One who takes the help of who he thinks is god incarnate or the person who, for the sake of his friendship, is willing to take up arms against me? Arjuna may be devoted to me, but only Karna can love with such purity. The thought that I will direct his death on the battlefield tomorrow is agonizing.’ Vidura said, ‘Don’t worry, Krishna, the war will stop. It has to! I have found a way out.’ ‘Tell me,’ Krishna said, a little impatient. ‘The Pandavas should find out about their relationship with Karna.’ ‘Vidura!’ Krishna shouted. ‘They would never dare to commit the sin of fratricide.’ Krishna’s face changed. He said, holding Vidura’s hand, ‘No! You cannot do that.’

‘Why?’ ‘Why?’ Krishna exclaimed, pointing at the burning embers of the small fire lit inside the tent. ‘Look at these lovely rose-like embers! If you sprinkle water on them, they will be doused and can be never be lit again. Their lives are over. They need to burn themselves out. That is when they produce ash which cools a body.’ ‘Ash?’ ‘Yes, Vidura. The time to reconcile is long past. I have no doubt that the Pandavas, had they known of their relationship with Karna, would have dropped their arms. But they would not have got Karna to their side despite their sacrifice. His love for Duryodhana would not have changed, and he would have ed on the mantle of victory to him. If that were to happen, there would be no meaning for loyalty shown by the Pandavas or the sacrifice made by Pitamah. Don’t take things in your hands, Vidura. My sorrow is as intense at yours. I know tomorrow’s battle will not last long and that the end of the war would alleviate the sorrow too.’ ‘You mean the war would end?’ ‘Only someone like Bhishma, who has no allegiance to victory or defeat but who continued to do his duty, would be able to understand our turmoil. It is only he who can console us. We have to bear our sorrows, Vidura. We have no choice.’ Vidura was lost in thought and was silent for a while. ‘Krishna, it is quite late, and you have to take the reins again tomorrow. I will take your leave now.’ ‘Let me walk you down to the river.’ They could feel the coolness of the night the moment they stepped out. Vidura wrapped his shawl around his body tightly as they walked down to the river, where his swan-shaped boat waited for him. The fog added to the intensity of the darkness. Vidura turned to look at Krishna, his face unable to hide his pain as he said, ‘Goodnight, Keshav.’ Krishna draped his shawl around Vidura’s shoulders saying, ‘Bless me, my friend.’

‘My blessings?’ Vidura asked surprised. ‘Yes. You have long been referred to as the slave’s child in the Kaurava durbar. No one gave credence to your knowledge and erudition, and yet you never deviated from telling the truth. Knowing that your logic or advice were being ignored did not deter you from your path. Your inner strength and resolve is remarkable. No one might have asked you before now, but please bless me. ‘I will be responsible for the defeat of heroes like Dronacharya, Kripacharya and Karna. I need the strength to do that, and it is only you who can bless me for it.’ Krishna bent his head low. Vidura was silent for a while. His fingers gently touched Krishna’s head, feeling his hair wet with dew. Unable to say another word, he turned abruptly and moved towards his boat. When Krishna lifted his head, Vidura had already taken his seat and the boat moved slowly over the river currents. Within a few moments, it was lost in the swirling mist and all Krishna could hear was the slapping of the oars at a rhythmic pace. Krishna stood there still as the sound faded away gently into the silence of the night.

46

Karna reached the Kaurava camp early the next morning, where he was received by Duryodhana. They both met Dronacharya, who said, ‘Karna, I plan to capture Yudhishthira alive. This is what we will do: When the battle begins, we will engage Arjuna in an intense fight with different individuals. While Arjuna is busy defending himself, we will form a chakravyuha, a multi-tiered, defensive lotus-like formation with you all in the centre. Yudhishthira will be forced to penetrate the chakravyuha, and we will easily capture him. No one other than Arjuna has the ability to break through it.’ Duryodhana, encouraged by the plan, reached the battlefield. True to his promise, the chakravyuha laid out under Drona’s command was impressive. Duryodhana and Karna reached the centre of the spiral formation where Dushasana and Kripacharya were waiting. The battle began with full intensity as soon as the sun rose above the horizon. As planned, Arjuna was kept busy by various warriors and kept fighting them off, while on the other side the Pandava army was trying to enter the spiral formation. A tumultuous battle raged with Karna surveying the battlefield. Instead of seeing Yudhishthira try to penetrate the centre, he was taken aback to see Arjuna’s son, the young Abhimanyu, take the initiative. The young man, unmindful of the shower of arrows all around, was able to seek his targets with perfection, no doubt living up to his lineage. As Dronacharya and Karna watched him with fascination, Abhimanyu managed to hurt Shalyaraja, while Dushasana fell unconscious in another place. Seeing the havoc being heaped on the Kaurava army, Karna stepped forward. He could not help ire the technique and the sheer daredevilry displayed by Abhimanyu. Karna, as he pulled his bowstring to place his arrows, realized that his aim lacked the intensity which a vengeful thought would create. As he stood there mesmerized by Abhimanyu’s talent, an arrow, whistling past his ear, penetrated his bow and the next one broke the flag post. Karna turned to pick up another bow and before he could fix the arrow on to it, an arrow from Abhimanyu pierced Karna’s brother’s throat. It was enough for Karna to lose all his iration and the next moment, an arrow from him broke Abhimanyu’s bow into half. Abhimanyu, picking up his mace, jumped on to the ground and challenged Dushasana’s son. Both fought

intensely and soon collapsed onto the ground. The first one to get up was Dushasana’s son. Before Abhimanyu could get up, the mace hit his head. Karna did not have the courage to look at the outcome. He had left for his camp even before the conch shells announced their victory followed by others declaring the end of the day as the sun set over the horizon. That evening, the Kaurava camp was tense because they’d heard that Arjuna had vowed to kill Jayadhratha before sunset the next day. Surprised at Arjuna’s oath, Karna asked, ‘Why would he do so? Why Jayadratha?’ ‘To avenge Abhimanyu’s death,’ Dushasana said. Karna could not help chuckle and said, ‘But Jayadratha was not even present when Abhimanyu was killed.’ ‘Whatever the reason, we have to protect Jayadratha until sundown,’ declared Duryodhana. The next day, Jayadratha was well protected and despite Arjuna’s best efforts, he was unable to find an opportunity to fulfil his vow. The sun was rapidly descending on to the horizon. Suddenly, dark clouds, a rare sight in the month of Kartik, covered the sun. Within moments, a dark shadow spread across the battlefield. A conch shell sounded and Jayadratha, wrongly assuming it to be the end of the day, walked out of his hiding place in full view of Arjuna’s chariot. Suddenly, the sun crept out of the clouds and it was bright again, but Jayadratha had no time to hide. Arjuna’s arrow found its target. Every effort by the Kauravas were wasted as Jayadratha fell to the ground. An incensed Duryodhana declared, ‘Jayadratha has been killed by deceit. I don’t care whether it is day or night. The battle shall continue now till we finish them all.’ The fight continued and the soldiers, tired of the day’s battle, were spurred on by Duryodhana. It was late in the night when the Kaurava army was faced with a new threat. Karna could hear screams from everywhere in the camp. He rushed to Duryodhana who said, ‘Friend! The Pandavas have found a new weapon in form of Ghatotkacha. He has killed the rakshasa Alaayudha and is now threatening to eliminate the entire Kaurava army.’ ‘Shall I go and confront him?’ Karna asked. ‘Yes, because no one else can. Use your celestial weapon because that alone can

kill Ghatotkacha.’ Karna, unperturbed by Duryodhana’s plea, asked, ‘Who do you want dead? Ghatotkacha or Arjuna?’ ‘I don’t understand.’ ‘This invincible weapon be used only once. I have been holding on to it to kill Arjuna.’ ‘Let us think of Arjuna later. Right now, we need to save our people from Ghatotkacha. Else, we won’t survive to see the light of the day. Please hurry!’ ‘As you wish,’ Karna said and turned his chariot towards Ghatotkacha. Recalling the celestial weapon given to him by Lord Indra in return for his divine armour and earrings, he placed an arrow on to his bow. The arrow found its mark and Ghatotkacha fell with a huge roar, which was drowned by a cheer from the Kaurava army that had escaped total annihilation. Karna, unmoved by either, walked back to his camp. He had been relieved of his final burden now.

47

At the end of the fifteenth day of battle, Karna returned to his quarters, followed by Chakradhar and Vrushasena. He was about to take off his armour when Vrushali asked him as she entered his room, ‘I am told that Guru Drona died today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Was it because of a cheap trick played by Dhrishtadyumna?’ ‘It was treachery. But it was righteous too, depending on how you look at it …’ ‘What do you mean?’ Karna patted Vrushali’s hand as he said, ‘Dronacharya was creating havoc on the field, having killed Viraat and Drupada, ending years of bitter enmity. Dhrishtadyumna, to avenge his father’s death, sought Dronacharya out when he heard of Ashwatthama’s death.’ ‘Did Ashwatthama die as well?’ ‘How can he, Vrushali? He has a boon to live forever. Bheema loudly announced that he had killed Ashwatthama but in reality, he’d killed an elephant of the same name. Drona, wanting to discover whether his dear son had been killed, asked Yudhishthira knowing that he would not lie. But Yudhishtir was ambiguous and replied that it was true that Ashwatthama had been killed. He neither denied nor clarified the truth. Drona, unable to take the news, dropped his arms and stood helpless in his chariot when Dhrishtadyumna, came up to him and with one stroke of his sword, beheaded him.’ ‘Isn’t that gainst the rules?’ ‘Well, it depends on how you look at it. Did Dronacharya not know that his son was immortal? Why did he need to clarify? Likewise, Bhishma, facing Shikhandi, could have easily turned back but he did not.’ ‘I wonder why …’ Karna smiled. ‘These men wait for the right moment to die.’

‘What now?’ ‘This will continue till we reach complete destruction. Vasu, this is finally a question of ego, even though the implied reason to wage a war is to win. Defeat does not kill the ego, rather it sharpens it and makes it more dangerous.’ ‘The battle commander tomorrow …?’ ‘He is standing right here. Ashwatthama and Duryodhana insisted that I take charge. It is going to be a raging battle tomorrow.’ ‘I have no doubt that you will succeed.’ ‘I do not doubt that either.’ Karna was silent for a moment and then continued, ‘Vrushali, I will easily achieve what Bhishma and Dronacharya could not. Anyway, let us not think about what will happen tomorrow. Today we will celebrate Vrushasena’s victories. Let us hear him tell the tale. We can eat while he talks of it.’ After their meal, Karna reached his bedroom. The light from the tall lamps lit the room, adding to the allure of the starlight as it spread like thin sheet over the bed near the window. The fragrance of burning incense sticks added to the serenity of the room. However, the brightness of the room could not dispel the darkness which had penetrated Karna’s heart. He was more attracted to the darkness and silence of the night outside. He had to be ready for the new avatar now. He mused, From a charioteer’s son, I became Angaraj Karna and then discovered that I was a Kaunteya. Tomorrow, I will be a senapati. Just one life but so many roles. Senapati! What role would I play? Pushing poor souls into the pit of death? When that happens, the commanders get the laurels and if it does not, one questions the loyalty of the soldiers. Loyalty too needs in the form of strength. I would face Bheema; one who believes in his brute strength. When he sees me, his blood would race and I, on the other hand, would have to face him with full knowledge of our ties of blood. How would I display my loyalties then? Krishna may have kept Arjuna away from me till now, but it is likely that we will face each other tomorrow. Krishna, the one who can create magic out of a hollow bamboo, will smile at me. In response, I will have to select an arrow from

my quiver. Where then will my loyalty draw strength from? What is this battle being fought for? Who will be the winner? Victory and defeat; happiness and sorrow; life and death—aren’t they sides of the same coin? The day a man is born, he starts anointing himself with ego, pride, manliness, vigour and other such feelings. But death takes it all away! If only we were aware of this reality each time. The sound of footsteps broke Karna’s reverie as he saw Vrushali enter the room holding a tray full of white gardenia flowers, their fragrance spreading all over the room. Picking up a flower and leading Vrushali to the balcony, Karna stood there and looked out. Pointing at the intermittent fires burning in the distant Kaurava camp, he said, ‘Look! The Kaurava camp there, or the Pandava camp on the other bank of Hiranyavati—they all seem relaxed; no one is worried about the battle to be fought tomorrow! ‘You should learn from them,’ Vrushali said. ‘What do you mean?’ Vrushali seemed to be in teasing mood. She said, ‘Why should the commander be worried? If they follow your instructions in the day, you should ape what they do in the night!’ Karna bent his head and said, ‘As you command, Your Highness!’ Vrushali’s laughter rang across the hall as they returned to their chamber.

48

Dawn had broken and two beautifully decorated chariots stood near the wide steps at the entrance of the palace. One of the chariots was drawn by pure white steeds, while the other had grey, powerful horses attached to it. The horses kicked their hooves in the dust nervously as they braced themselves for the battlefield. Karna and Vrushasena walked down the steps. They were both wearing their finest battle gear, their armour shining with small gems. The pointed ends of their armlets, tied tightly to the wrists, extended up to their elbows. Their quivers overflowed with arrows while a bow was casually hung across the shoulders, and they held a shining sword in one hand. Vrushali followed them. Karna, turning to look at her, said, ‘It is time, Vasu.’ ‘Take care of Vrushasena,’ she said. Laughing, Karna put a hand on Vrushasena’s shoulder and said, ‘He is a trained warrior who knows how to take care of himself. In the battlefield, as a commander, all men are my equals.’ Vrushasena bent to accept Vrushali’s blessings. She hugged him affectionately. Seeing a red stole in her hand, Karna raised his hands as she tied it around his waist. He said, ‘Vrushali, it is better not to have such ties going into battle. They are difficult to untie when necessary.’ ‘Precisely the reason to tie them,’ Vrushali said, smiling. Karna was about to reply when the deep sound of a conch shell was heard. It was a message for the armies to assemble. Karna and his son got into their respective chariots and they moved noisily away from the palace. Vrushali, standing at the steps, waited till the sounds died. In the silence of the morning, there was no place for her to hide her tears. Duryodhana, eager to anoint Karna the commander, was waiting in the Kaurava camp. As Karna sat on a throne especially decorated for the occasion, Duryodhana sprinkled holy water using the horns of a rhino and a wild buffalo as per the rites. Karna’s heart was filled with gratitude. Getting up, Karna bowed respectfully.

Duryodhana was overwhelmed at his friend’s gesture and embraced him tightly. ‘My friend, I am certain that victory is ours now.’ They reached the battlefield where the Kaurava forces erupted in a loud cheer seeing their new commander. Karna got busy issuing instructions for the day. Duryodhana looked at Vrushasena affectionately and said, ‘Take care, my dear.’ Vrushasena bent low when Duryodhana took off a pearl necklace from around his neck and handing it to Vrushasena, he said, ‘May victory be yours!’ Karna could see himself in Vasu. He said, ‘My son, a true warrior never keeps an of his victories or losses. Even in defeat, he wishes that it occurs at the hands of one the world recognizes as invincible. May victory be yours!’ Karna looked at the vast expanse of the army gathered ahead of him. He could hear the neighing of the horses and the trumpeting of the elephants as soldiers eagerly waited for the day to begin. Leaving Duryodhana’s chariot amongst a circle of elephant-borne warriors, he moved his chariot forward. The eastern horizon looked crimson as the thin crest of the sun peeped over. He could see Arjuna’s chariot in the Pandava army as it gathered on the other end of the battlefield. He ed Krishna’s blessings, ‘… your life is too illustrious to be dimmed by any defeat. Like your father the sun god, it shall shine forever and there is none even amongst the gods who shall have the courage to challenge its glory …’ Karna heart was filled with gratitude as he recalled Krishna’s words and bowed reverently in the direction of Arjuna’s chariot. Seeing the sun break over the horizon, he folded his hands in prayer and then, lifting the conch shell, he blew out a resounding sound. The commander had announced the beginning of the battle! In response, the deep, sombre sound of Krishna’s panchajanya conch was heard. As the day progressed, Karna moved around the battlefield supervising, encouraging and directing the troops. He had to, at times, engage in a direct conflict whenever someone challenged him. It was almost midday, but there had been no progress on either side. Seeing a chariot racing towards him, he became alert. For a moment, he thought it was Arjuna’s chariot, but Karna noticed a different flag fluttering on the post. It was Nakula! Standing in the chariot with the confidence of a true warrior, he looked handsome! Karna was reminded of a

full moon in its glory, and a brotherly pride surged through him as he observed the young and dashing Nakula. He was about to turn away and avoid a direct conflict when he heard Nakula call out, ‘Wait, you son of a charioteer! Don’t run away. I am here to challenge you. You are the main reason for this war, and I will not let you escape so easily. Your defeat shall be my glory today.’ Karna engaged Nakul and only defended himself without causing any harm to Nakula. After humouring him for a while, it was time to end the confrontation and Karna stepped up his attack by breaking Nakula’s bow, the canopy of his chariot and destroying the charioteer’s seat to encourage him to turn back. Nakula, clearly dejected, jumped down from his chariot and started running. Karna too jumped down, chased him and managed to stop him as he looped his bow to hold him by his neck. Nakula’s face was a mixture of embarrassment and fear. For a moment, Karna was tempted to embrace his handsome brother. He wanted to pat his back and touch his red cheeks. Holding himself back, Karna said, ‘Nakula, you are a great warrior and need not have any fear. You should challenge only those who are your equals. It is not right to roam around all alone. Let your elder brothers Arjuna and Bheema protect you. Now, go back to your camp and rest.’ He removed the bow from Nakul’s neck and pushed him gently, turning towards his chariot lest the tears in Nakul’s eyes embarrass him further. The battle continued as before till it was time for sunset. A worried Duryodhana met him that evening. He said, ‘My friend, we have not been very fortunate today.’ ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Karna. ‘Did you not hear about how the enemy ran every time I challenged them?’ ‘I am not talking of your exploits, Karna. We lost a lot of men today. Bheema managed to kill Kshemdhoorti while Satyaki managed to eliminate Vinda and Anuvinda. Even Chitra and Chitrasena died today.’ ‘Are you blaming me for this?’ Karna asked.

‘Isn’t this the commander’s responsibility?’ Karna was stunned as he realized the truth behind Duryodhana’s words. ‘Karna, sixteen days of war are over, and we have lost innumerable soldiers. Each day is going to see our strength reduced. We need to do something to stop this. If you can defeat Arjuna, this will end.’ Karna smiled. ‘That’s easier said than done!’ ‘Did you not take a vow to finish him off?’ ‘I did, but I need to at least see him! Every day, Krishna manages to hide him from me and avoid a direct confrontation. I am not afraid of him—my Vijaya bow has more power that his Gandiva.’ ‘What is holding you back then?’ Duryodhana asked, feeling a little more confident. ‘Victory is not about the ability of the warrior alone. The charioteer plays a significant role in his victory. I don’t have a charioteer who can match Krishna.’ Duryodhana got up excitedly saying, ‘The Madra king Shalya is a part of our army—he is as talented as Krishna. If he agrees to be your charioteer, victory is assured! Don’t worry. I will ensure that Shalya will be your charioteer tomorrow.’ Karna did not respond as Duryodhana left for Shalya’s quarters.

49

The next morning, Karna was received warmly by Duryodhana. ‘Your wish has been fulfilled. Shalyaraja has agreed to chariot be your charioteer.’ ‘You can be rest assured now of the results, Yuvraj.’ ‘Come, let us go and meet him. He is waiting for you.’ When they entered the Madra king’s chamber, he did not even stand up. Duryodhana had to say, ‘Madraraja, Angaraj Karna is here to meet you.’ ‘I wish you victory, Sutaputra Radheya,’ Shalya said, continuing to sit. Karna threw an angry glance at Duryodhana, much to the merriment of Shalya, who continued, ‘Oh! It seems you do not like the way I address you!’ ‘Shalyaraja, I am honoured to be called Radheya—but I allow that familiarity only to people who are close to me.’ ‘Then it is enough that I call you sutaputra.’ ‘I am a charioteer’s son, but I am also the king of Angadesh, in case you have forgotten.’ ‘That is a mere title. One does not become a king just because he is gifted a kingdom. Lineage plays a role in being royal or every other person can claim to be a king.’ ‘Shalyaraja!’ Karna warned, his hand reaching his sword. ‘Remove your hand from that sword, Karna. If you need me to be your charioteer, prepare for my harsh words. It is only on this condition that I have agreed. And before you say anything else, know that I don’t give much store to the feelings of a shudra.’ Karna looked at Duryodhana in surprise. He looked at Karna, his eyes pleading, and said, ‘Karna, I request you to tolerate him. Please hold back your anger, I beseech you.’ Karna was overwhelmed, hearing his friend’s plea. He said, changing his tone, ‘I

am honoured that Shalyaraja is going to be my charioteer. I am eager to experience your skills, which are supposed to be better than Krishna’s. I will treat your insults as praise.’ They stepped out of the quarters. A beautifully decorated chariot was waiting for Karna. Karna prayed to the chariot and went around it a few times. Then, after offering his oblation to the sun god, he said, ‘Shalyaraja, it will be my honour to be led by you. Please get on first.’ Shalya looked at Duryodhana, who nodded and said, ‘I request you to be Karna’s charioteer. I am sure Karna will be able to lead the army to victory with your command of the chariot.’ Shalya nodded. Holding the reins in his hand he asked, turning back, ‘Sutaputra, I hope the prospect of battle is not scaring you. There is time for sunrise yet. In case you change your mind and want to return, just let me know. I will be happy to take you back.’ Karna answered, holding on to his composure, ‘You will see the full force of my abilities when I pull the strings of my bow!’ Shalya was not impressed by Karna’s reply. Instead, he laughed loudly. Karna asked, a little surprised, ‘Why do you laugh? I will shortly prove what I just said.’ ‘Radheya, a deer can never fight a lion. The moment you confront Arjuna, you will know who the real victor is.’ ‘Shalyaraja, I need not remind you that you are my charioteer me and not the Pandavas’.’ ‘I know what I am doing.’ ‘Then why the unnecessary taunts?’ ‘Let me repeat myself: you have bear my taunts if you want my services.’ Karna smiled indulgently. He could not hold himself back when he said, ‘You are the king of Madradesh and your behaviour is not surprising. After all, your kingdom cherishes vice and addiction, there crime and anarchy are considered

laws. How can I expect anything else?’ The sun was just rising as Karna reached the battlefield. Karna inspected the troops and gave necessary instructions as he moved along the ranks. After a while, Karna realized that his chariot was gaining speed. Within a few minutes, he understood the reason as he came face to face with Yudhishthira’s chariot. His flag bore the images of two mridangs, the percussion instrument. Pointing in his direction, Shalya said, ‘Look! The first of the Pandavas, the eldest Kaunteya.’ Karna smiled as he looked in the direction his charioteer was pointing in. If he is the eldest … the first … who am I then? he mused. He said, turning to Shalya, ‘Turn the chariot around. I am only interested in Arjuna.’ ‘Radheya, seeing Yudhishthira, you are already …’ Karna had no time to reply as an arrow, whistling past Karna, penetrated the side of the chariot. He saw Yudhishthira busy nocking a second arrow when he said, ‘Karna, I have been searching for you all these days. I will be able to stop this madness once I kill you!’ Karna easily deflected Yudhishthira’s arrows and engaged him for a long time. Finally, he broke Yudhishthira’s bow, killed his guards and destroyed his chariot after felling the charioteer. Yudhishthira, scared at this outcome, rushed into another chariot which had come to his rescue. Karna jumped onto the chariot and touching Yudhishthira’s shoulder, he said, ‘Go back in peace, Yudhishthira. This battlefield is not a hall where you can play a game of dice. Don’t step on to this field again. If you do make the mistake, don’t face me again.’ Getting down from the chariot, Karna mounted his own when Shalya commented, ‘I am surprised that you let him go.’ ‘I am not interested in anyone other than Arjuna. I suggest you find him.’ It was noon but the war continued unabated, and countless corpses littered the

battlefield. The sounds of the weapons were deafening while the earth shook with the marching of the elephants. Karna, searching for Arjuna, stopped seeing Bheema’s chariot, the flag sporting his symbol of a mace. He instructed Shalyaraja to take the chariot elsewhere and avoid Bheema. ‘Are you afraid of confronting him?’ ‘I want to confront Arjuna and no one else.’ ‘When you are so frightened of just seeing Bheema, what will happen when you meet Arjuna?’ ‘Shalyaraja, I will accept your taunts for now. But please do not forget that you are my charioteer and should listen to what I command. Please turn the chariot around.’ Shalya did what Karna told him to but by then, Bheema had seen his chariot and blocked his path. He shouted, ‘Running away? Are you not the commander of the Kaurava army?’ Karna took a deep breath, knowing that he had no choice but to face Bheema. Seeing the powerful Bheema, each sinew of his bursting with energy, Karna felt brotherly pride surge through him. His armour had blood stains while his eyes were bloodshot. Karna was reminded of an elephant who had raged through a forest breaking down and trampling trees on its way. He was the same Pandava who had vowed to avenge the insult heaped on Draupadi when Dushasana had tried to disrobe her. For Karna, Bheema was a true representation of manhood. An arrow whistled past Karna’s ears, breaking his reverie. Karna responded to Bheema’s shower of arrows but maintained just enough aggression to counter him rather than attack him, and he tried to find a way to stop him. Seeing Karna wounded and assuming that he was weakening, Bheema intensified his attacks. At that moment, an arrow dug itself into Karna’s arm, making him lose his balance. He managed to hold on to one of the posts as he steadied himself. A worried Shalya asked, ‘Shall we retreat?’ Pulling out the arrow with his other hand, Karna said, ‘No! I am fine.’ Picking up his bow, he engaged Bheema in battle again. He was about to pull the

strings when he heard the words, ‘Angaraj, my friend!’ Turning around, he saw Chakradhar waving from a distance. He was stumbling his way towards Karna’s chariot barefoot. Karna immediately instructed Shalya to turn the chariot towards Chakradhar. ‘Are you finally giving up?’ ‘You are my charioteer—do as I say.’ At that moment, seeing Shalya turn the chariot away, Bheema called out, ‘Coward!’ Karna, vexed with Bheema’s insult, replied, ‘Who can fight against such a mighty warrior?’ Karna did not wait for Bheema’s response. Karna jumped out of the chariot as soon as he reached Chakradhar who seemed to be in immense pain. All Karna could mumble was, ‘My friend …’ ‘Angaraj, Dushasana has been killed.’ ‘By whom?’ ‘Bheema.’ ‘Is that what you wanted to tell to me? Where is your chariot?’ ‘I left it where Dushasana fell. He died tragically.’ ‘Tell me everything.’ ‘Dushasana fell down in his fight with Bheema. While he was trying to get up, Bheema reached out for him and asked him which hand he had used to touch Draupadi. Even in that state Dushasana raised his right hand and said, “This is the same hand I have used to donate hundreds of cows to the poor. It is the same hand with which I hold my sword and this very hand has touched beautiful women and pulled Yajnaseni’s hair with. But this hand has never eaten food touched and despoiled by others. It is a hand of a victor.” ‘Bheema, enraged by Dushasana’s reply pulled his arm out and then sitting on his chest, tore his chest with his bare hands and nails. He then drank his blood.’

Karna’s hair stood on its end imagining the gory scene. ‘I must go,’ said Chakradhar. As he turned, Karna’s eyes widened at the sight of a huge knife stuck in Chakradhar’s back. Chakradhar walked a few steps before falling down. Karna rushed to him. Taking his face in his hands, he asked, ‘Who did this to you?’ Chakradhar opened his eyes, and a brief smile flickered across his face. ‘I was trying to make Dushasana comfortable when someone stabbed me from behind. Karna, this is a battlefield where all morals have been sacrificed. People talk of values but do exactly the opposite. Someone like you cannot win here, my friend. Farewell! He slumped in Karna’s arms, and Karna was barely able to see his face as tears clouded his eyes. Untying the red stole from his waist, he spread it on Chakradhar’s body and then, getting onto his chariot said, ‘Take the chariot far away from the battlefield.’ Shalya turned the chariot and raced it towards Karna’s tent.

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On hearing about Karna’s retreat to his camp, Duryodhana followed him immediately. Entering his tent, he found Karna resting on the bed, his protective headgear on one side. Duryodhana asked, ‘I am told you were hurt.’ ‘I am fine, Yuvraj. Just a little tired, that is all.’ Seeing his bleeding arm, Duryodhana said, ‘You could have at least got the wound treated.’ ‘All wounds cannot be treated, Yuvraj. Some remain with you till the end of your life.’ ‘I am told you managed to catch Nakula.’ ‘That is right.’ ‘And you let him go?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘I am told the same was with Yudhishthira too?’ ‘That is also correct.’ ‘And did Bheema manage to defeat you?’ ‘Yes.’ Duryodhana was enraged. He said, ‘What makes you do this, Karna? You find the enemy and yet you let him go?’ ‘Is killing them going to stop this war?’ ‘Not by killing them but by capturing them alive,’ Duryodhana clarified. ‘I had requested Dronacharya to capture Yudhishthira, but he was unable to fulfil my request. And here you are, allowing him to go!’ ‘Are you sure capturing him would have ended the battle?’

‘Certainly!’ Duryodhana said. ‘I know we can never win this war. I would have invited Yudhishthira again for another round of dice. Knowing his addiction, he would not have refused. We would have won once again, and they would be out in the forest once more.’ Karna could not help but laugh, making Duryodhana more angry. He said, ‘Don’t you believe me? With Shakuni’s help …’ ‘Yuvraj,’ Karna interrupted, his voice tired, ‘You have seen the results of one game of dice yet you dream of playing it again? Don’t you see that there would be another such battle when they returned from the forest? Would there be anyone alive to fight the battle?’ ‘I don’t care. Even if there are just two of us—Yudhishthira and me—it is worth it.’ ‘Yuvraj, what exactly do you want from this war?’ ‘Is this the commander of the Kuru army speaking? Victory and victory alone.’ He added, taking a deep breath, ‘It does not seem likely though.’ ‘If you doubt the capabilities and loyalty of your commander, I suggest you appoint someone else.’ ‘Angaraj!’ ‘I am not saying this in a fit of emotion. I am, after all, not a Kshatriya like Bhishma who would be insulted when asked to sacrifice his weapons. I am merely a charioteer’s son and would do everything for you till the last breath of mine leaves the body.’ Duryodhana was speechless and said, hugging Karna, ‘Don’t talk like that! It is better to have you and lose the war than otherwise. What value does victory hold for me without you?’ Karna picked up his sword and nodded to Shalya, and said, ‘Let us go.’ ‘Radheya! Don’t you want to rest a while?’ ‘There is no time for rest. The battlefield is the final resting place for me now.’

They entered the battlefield and looked for Arjuna’s chariot in vain. As the sun receded towards the western horizon, Karna saw Ashwatthama rushing towards him. He shouted as he reached Karna’s chariot, ‘Arjuna is engaged in a fierce battle with your son on the northern side of the field.’ Shalyaraja raced towards the area pointed by Ashwatthama. The soldiers gave way quickly as they looked at their commander. Shortly, Arjuna’s chariot was in sight. Karna could see that Vrushasena’s chariot was surrounded by Arjuna’s soldiers. Vrushasena had defeated Nakula a little while back and, without bothering about his wounds, he was repulsing Arjuna’s attacks fearlessly. Vrushasena was distracted while attaching another arrow to his bowstring as he looked at his father and smiled. At that moment Karna heard Arjuna saying, ‘Radheya, you have arrived at the right time. You and six others killed my dear Abhimanyu. Now watch as I kill your son. Stop me if you can—if you dare.’ An arrow had shot out of Arjuna’s bow as he spoke. Before Karna could react, the arrow had found its mark. Like a jasmine flower floating down to earth, rotating slowly as it falls, Vrushasena too fell to the ground. Karna leaped out of his chariot, his heart wrenched at the sight. By the time he reached Vrushasena, he had breathed his last. His delicate throat had been mercilessly pierced by the arrow. Blood fell onto the ground as he lay there. The arrow had also pierced the pearl necklace before penetrating his throat. His smile had frozen on his face. Karna looked at the pearls which lay scattered on the ground, unmindful of anything around. With trembling fingers, Karna closed Vrushasena’s eyes. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, as if lost in a sweet dream. Karna heard footsteps but did not turn to look back. The words felt like molten lead in his ears, as he heard, ‘Lamenting your son’s death? Now you will understand my grief when I was told of Abhimanyu’s death. If you had thought just a little before taking that cruel step, you would not have seen this day. I have avenged my son today.’ Karna’s tears evaporated as Arjuna’s fiery words rang in Karna’s ears. He turned to look at Arjuna who too could feel the fire of rage in Karna’s eyes. Karna glanced at Krishna who continued to sit in the chariot. Karna could not resist a

smile and addressed Arjuna, who stood arrogantly, his right hand holding the bow. ‘You have not accomplished anything, Arjuna. I have succeeded today. You have not taken revenge on me by killing my son—instead you have obliged me. I am indebted to you. The praise of a child’s innocence is apt when done at home and not here. The battlefield does not differentiate between childhood, youth or old age. All it recognizes is the weapons you hold. Had you let my son go due to his young age, I would not have been able to look at anyone in his eyes ever. Your act has sent him to heaven. I am truly obliged.’ Seeing Arjuna react in surprise, Karna continued with a sad smile, ‘It doesn’t matter, Arjuna! You will not understand my words. Ask Krishna—he can explain it to you.’ Turning towards Vrushasena, he said, ‘Go, Arjuna, go! We have a decisive day tomorrow. Take rest till then. Enough valour for today. Go!’ Karna carefully placed Vrushasena’s bow near his body and with trembling hands, he caressed his forehead. Taking a last look at him, he covered his body gently with a shawl. Wiping his tears, he picked up his headgear and, getting into his chariot mumbled, ‘Camp.’ The sun was setting, leaving the western sky drenched in a golden hue. As the chariot moved, the sound of trumpets announced the end of the day.

Shalyaraja got off the chariot in the camp but Karna continued to stand there, clutching his headgear in his left hand. Shalyaraja could not bear to see Karna’s agony and touching his shoulder he said, ‘Radheya! One should not suffer so much!’ ‘Some have no choice but to simply bear the tragedies of life. That seems to be my fate!’ He called for his charioteer and went to his palace. His mind occupied elsewhere, he barely noticed a chariot, flagless and without its occupant, following him.

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Karna’s chariot stopped suddenly and broke his reverie. He asked, ‘What happened?’ ‘A chariot is following us,’ said the charioteer. Karna turned to see Vrushasena’s chariot and behind it, another chariot following them. The second chariot soon came near, and Karna saw Duryodhana in it. Karna could not control his emotions as he saw Duryodhana. Duryodhana had never seen Karna in such a distraught state. He said, his voice thick, ‘Karna, I found out the moment I reached the camp, but you had left by then. I am sure Arjuna will pay for his deeds.’ He hugged Karna tightly. ‘I do not care about revenge, Duryodhana,’ Karna said, removing himself from Duryodhana’s embrace. ‘Who can avoid death? Vrushasena died a warrior’s death. I am not sad that he is dead, but I mourn the fact that my life is over as well.’ ‘Your life?’ ‘It is the son who carries the family name forward. The thought that even after your death, your progeny would carry your name forward forever makes you welcome death. The knowledge that my family name stops with Vrushasena’s death is agonizing. I should have died leaving him to survive.’ It was getting dark. Karna added, ‘It is not safe for a yuvraj to be out at this hour. Please return to the camp.’ ‘Let me escort you to your palace, Karna.’ ‘I prefer to face Vrushali alone. Tomorrow’s battle is going to be decisive, my friend! The war will end tomorrow.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Yes, it must end.’ Duryodhana left and Karna continued towards his palace. He did not have the

courage to face Vrushali. How he wished he could run away and hide somewhere! The chariot stopped at the base of the steps, while Vrushali waited at the top. Karna dared not look straight at her. As Karna walked up the steps, Vrushali saw that the stole she had tied to his waist was missing. She also saw the chariot behind his, was empty and bereft of the flag. Finally, seeing him walking alone, she screamed, ‘My lord!’ Karna looked up to see Vrushali rushing down the steps. ‘Where is Vrusha?’ It was impossible for Karna to look at her trembling body. With effort he said, ‘Vrushasena achieved martyrdom on the battlefield at Arjuna’s hands. His valour was boundless.’ As tears rolled down her face, she asked, ‘What valour are you talking about? What’s the use of valour when he is dead?’ Karna hugged Vrushali as she continued to sob. Karna, making an effort to hold back his tears said, ‘Vasu, don’t cry. He died a valiant death, one that would make anyone proud. It is a rare soul who has the privilege to become immortal in death. Don’t cry, Vasu. Once the war was announced, we knew there would be losses. And there will be more. You need to steel yourself.’ ‘Lord!’ Vrushali mumbled, unable to say any more. ‘Control yourself, Vrushali. We don’t know the game our maker plays. I won’t be surprised if Vrushasena and Abhimanyu are chasing each other in heaven.’ Karna managed to take Vrushali into their chambers. She was in shock and unable to believe that Vrushasena was dead. It was only two days ago that he had told her about his valiant acts on the battlefield. Unable to hold her curiosity, she asked, ‘How did it happen?’ ‘I was on the other side of the battlefield. Vrushasena had just managed to defeat Nakula when Arjuna came forward. He did not flinch on seeing the great warrior. On the contrary, he faced him bravely. I rushed towards him but it was too late. I saw the arrow leaving Arjuna’s bow before it hit him. Vrushasena looked as handsome as he always was, lying on the earth. His smile on seeing me lingered on his lips.’

‘Did he say anything?’ Vrushali whispered. Karna shook his head. ‘No, Vrushali. He did not have the time. Arjuna is a consummate archer—his arrow does not hurt the one it hits but those who remain. It is not Vrushasena’s death alone which tortures me …’ Vrushali looked up, surprised. Karna had tears in his eyes as he said, ‘Vasu, I am tired of this. I did not only lose my son today but Chakradhar too …’ ‘What?’ ‘Chakradhar was like a cincture to me, something that was always around. You know someone had pierced him with an knife in the back. Even in that state, he came searching for me, even smiling. He taught me how to bear the most agonizing pains, Vasu. I was not angry at Arjuna when Vrushasena died. I imagined the agony he must have suffered when Abhimanyu died. I felt giving away Vrushasena was the ultimate charity for me. I have challenged Arjuna to a decisive fight—a fight to finish, Vasu. Tomorrow only one of us will survive to see the sunset. The other one would merge into the sun god himself.’ Karna’s last sentence left Vrushali cold. Her tears dried up and she hugged him, a strange fear in her heart. ‘Don’t say that! I know you will win—easily, in fact.’ ‘I may be capable of winning, Vrushali, but victory is not won on talent alone. The charioteer plays an equally important role. One cannot compare Krishna, who can make even the weakest feel strong, to someone like Shalya, who shames me with his taunts. Vrushali, I don’t care if I don’t live. No one has ever understood me—except you. And you will live—that makes me happy.’ ‘Lord, what is the point in living if you are no more?’ ‘Vasu!’ Karna hugged her ionately. He lifted her chin gently, he drank her tears, saying, ‘Promise me something.’ ‘What?’ ‘If I don’t return tomorrow … do not curse Arjuna, the one left behind. He would not be able to bear it. I doubt if Krishna can help him there.’

That night Vrushali slept in Karna’s embrace, waking up intermittently, as sobs racked her body. Karna could feel the intensity with which she held him. Sleep eluded him as he lay awake.

Karna stood in his balcony just before dawn. The stars were gradually fading away. Standing there in full armour, he could barely feel the chill in the morning breeze. The decisive battle was about to begin. A multitude of thoughts clamoured in Karna’s mind, making little and terrible sense all at once. The decisive battle! Where and when will it be fought? I hope it is not prolonged. I don’t want to suffer any more—the earlier the better. My life has been spent thinking of Arjuna’s death. They say my giving away my armour and earrings enhanced the strength of my character. But I was the one who made Duryodhana realize the inevitability of war. When I heard Krishna siding with Arjuna, it did not shake my confidence. But when Krishna told me the secret of my birth, it was as if a bolt of lightning had struck me! Why did he not tell me earlier? Bhishma and Vidura too knew. They could have avoided this destructive war. Who am I? Where did I come from? Where am I going? These questions troubled me all my life. Instead of the answers pacifying me, they created a violent storm in my mind. Is the realization of the self the end of life? Isn’t that the reason the fire of vengeance subsided as soon as Krishna told me about my birth and all my aspirations to win withered away? I did not start the game. It was staged by the gods themselves. And what a cruel game it was! We siblings, born of the same mother, have had our lives destroyed. Instead of brotherly love, we grew up hating each other. But the gods were not satisfied with just that. They had to find a way to put deadly weapons in our hands and push us onto the battlefield. Only then would they be satisfied. Only the end remains—could the gods have not shown restraint? Karna noticed a shooting star as it streaked across the sky. A smile flickered across Karna’s lips. A lone star, amongst millions, burns away, but does it make the sky any poorer? Would its presence be missed? Even the stars, seemingly permanent, have to fade away some day. What crime do they commit to deserve that? Why does a fire, pure and noble, have to die? Why does the ocean never taste as sweet as the pure waters of the Ganga? Why should the mighty Himalayas shake when there is an earthquake? Is wanting to live a pure life and helping others a life of sin? Is wanting to be

loved, to derive strength from tears of love, to ache for the tender touch of affection selfish? Then everyone, including the creator, is selfish? No man can live the way he wishes to. The body is restricted by what the arms can do and so is the mind. The mind loves what the eyes see while the touch of a lover evokes music from the strings of one’s heart. The hand which gives also enjoys the thought of having fulfilled a need. Because of the love for a friend, I received power and prestige. A low-born man came to be addressed as a king. Do we perform charity only to increase our prestige? Why then is it surprising if one desires beauty, takes pride in giving and surrenders in love with someone? Standing in front of the mirror, he adjusted his armour but he quickly moved away as all he could see was Vrushasena’s face there. Vrushasena! As he lay on the battlefield, his face was just as when he had slept in my arms as a child! His face, body, nothing had changed. What was missing then? The soul? Did I ever get to know it completely? Does the fear of death recede if one knows where one is going? Why does one get trapped in the apparent beauty of life? Isn’t death the renunciation of the soul? Why is one enamoured with the body? Even beauty is not ever-enchanting. One can barely look at an infant wailing for his mother! Does one have the courage to look at Radhai’s bare forehead, reminding one of her widowed status? Life! I don’t have to think of it for too long now. The soft, diffused light of the sun on the eastern horizon attracted Karna’s attention. The darkness was slowly dissolving. Peacocks could be heard calling, welcoming the new day. Karna turned to see Vrushali standing there. ‘When did you come in, Vrushali?’ ‘A while ago, but I did not want to disturb you.’ ‘What can a warrior about to step on to the battlefield be thinking of, Vrushali, other than who he will be facing today? I wonder what ties from the past will lead us to this encounter? What encounters will I have with people near and dear to us? What emotional bonds will make me confront someone? ‘Emotional bonds?’ Realizing that he may have said too much, Karna hurriedly said, ‘Of humanity, what else? When I faced Krishna, I saw him as our guest in Champanagri, not as

an enemy on the battlefield.’ Vrushali did not say anything. She picked up the stole she carried in her hand. Karna raised his arms for her to tie it to his waist. Instead, she handed it to him. Karna asked, surprised, ‘Will you not tie it?’ ‘I can’t,’ she said, as she burst in tears. Embracing her affectionately, Karna said, ‘Vrushali, your companionship and Radhai’s affection are the few things which have given me true happiness. Wipe those tears, Vrushali. As I step into the battlefield, I feel I have got everything I wanted. A man going into war needs detatchment and ruthlessness. Comion has no place for it. I will leave now.’ Karna’s words made Vrushali shiver with fear. She said, ‘You always say “I will return soon”, but …’ ‘I must have mistakenly uttered that. Don’t come to see me off. Krishna was right when he said that goodbyes should be hurried. Vrushali, success in the battlefield is not in returning safely. My return may mean a failure, while losing oneself may mean a victory for me— that. Look! The darkness is slowly fading to light. The rising sun illuminates everything around giving it a new face. Everyone forgets the solace darkness provided them. Watch the magic, Vrushali, as you stand here.’

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Vrushali watched wide-eyed as Karna turned abruptly to leave. She could not hold herself and screamed, ‘My lord!’ Karna stopped in his tracks. Her voice drew him as a puppet in the hands of a puppeteer. Vrushali rushed towards him to disappear into his open arms. Karna could not resist patting her back. With an effort to sound normal, he called out softly, ‘Vrushali!’ Vrushali turned to look at him. Her eyes, brimming with tears, were filled with an intense, nameless fear. A shiver ran through her body. Her quivering lips and nostrils, her hair sticking to her wet cheeks, and the sheer desperation in her eyes was more than enough for Karna to lose his resolve. He gently took her face in his palms and said, ‘My dear, control yourself, or I will never be able to leave. Apart from his own strength, a man needs the courage a farewell can offer. You are a wife of a valiant warrior. Tears do not suit you.’ Vrushali finally found her voice and said, ‘My lord! You cannot leave me so easily! I can’t live up to your fame and nor do I have the capacity to give the way you do. All I know is your love. Your valour will add to your fame while your charity will be known forever. Whatever else you could not achieve may be fulfilled by your supreme sacrifice on the battlefield, but what about me?’ ‘Vrushali!’ ‘Without you, my life loses its meaning. I managed to bear the loss of my brothers and my sons. But I cannot bear it anymore. A widow has no life to look forward to, my lord! Your charity helped all those who came into your life. What crime have I committed to bear this punishment?’ Karna’s heart melted seeing her distraught state. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he hugged her tightly. But it was for a brief moment. The next moment he said, moving away, ‘Vrushali, I did not expect you to behave like this. Our relationship does not end with this life. Our love is endless. Do you know when a warrior fights with a sword in his hand, it is the stole tied to his waist by his wife, which gives him courage? You are proud of me because I have the courage to walk with my head held high into the battlefield. Would you accept me if I were to sit at home, scared of death? Don’t let unknown fears scare you.’

‘Lord … but …’ ‘The end is near. This battlefield is a blessed one and many a penance have been successful here. It was here that Gurudev Parshurama created the SamantaPanchaka Lake. It is at this very place where the tragic love story of Pururava and Urvashi occured. No one can tear us apart. Now, stand here and watch me as I leave. I have never given you an order, but take it as my command today.’ Vrushali never realized when Karna slipped away. She did not have the strength to call out to him. She stood there watching the empty door. The sound of the chariot wheels alerted her and she rushed to the balcony. The chariot moved away rapidly. Karna turned to look back. Vrushali, standing in the balcony, reminded him of the crescent moon on the western horizon, losing its sheen in the light of a rapidly brightening dawn.

53

Shalyaraja was waiting for Karna as he arrived in the Kaurava camp. Pointing to a new chariot, Shalyaraja said, ‘See how beautiful it is! Look at these lovely white steeds drawing it. Their hooves are fast as lightning. Your flag, with its lotus emblem, shines on a golden pillar as bright as your sun god. I am told you are an expert in chariots being a charioteer’s son, but I can bet even you would not be able to find a single fault in this. Your chariot is ready, Karna.’ Karna’s smile was mysterious as he looked at his chariot. Undoubtedly, it looked as if it had been designed by nature. His chariot of life too had been pulled by two curses which had carried him all through. The pins, attaching the wheel to the axle, had been removed long back; one by his own mother and the other by the lord himself. All he had now was a whip in the form of a promise made. It was a matter of time before the chariot of life would collapse and he would be dragged to his end. ‘Angaraj!’ said Shalya. ‘Huh!’ He looked at Shalya and replied, ‘I agree, it is truly beautiful. I can hear the trumpets. Let us not delay. I am eager to see how the chariot behaves. Let us go.’ As they reached the battlefield, Shalyaraja said, ‘I have taken every effort for us to have the best chariot, but I doubt you will win. You are nothing compared to Arjuna.’ ‘Shalyaraja, I don’t need you to tell me the outcome. I know Arjuna will win. After all, he has Krishna as his charioteer—unlike you who dreams of my defeat!’ ‘What do I gain by seeing you defeated?’ ‘I am aware that you agreed to be my charioteer after making a pact with the Pandavas. I know that they met you the day I was made the commander.’ Shalyaraja’s face fell. His secret had been revealed. ‘I am the commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army. Do you think I would not know?’

‘Yet you agreed to let me be your charioteer?’ Shalya asked. ‘It does not make a difference. You come from a lineage which prides itself in arrogance, back-stabbing and taunting others. You may hope to succeed, but let me tell you that it is impossible. One can never take away brightness from one born of the sun god.’ Picking up his conch shell, he blew into it. As the conch shell announced the start of the day, the sun rose in the eastern sky. The day began with an intense battle. As the hundreds of elephants, chariots, foot soldiers, and cavalry crisscrossed the field, it looked like a sea in tempest. The sun glinted off countless swords, axes and other weapons as the soldiers engaged in a fight to the end. The multitude of noises, whether the trumpeting of the elephants, the grinding of the chariot wheels as they moved across the plains, or the clashing of swords and other weapons, created an eerie atmosphere. Karna stood like a rock observing and directing his troops. Despite having defeated many of the Pandavas, he was not satisfied and he searched for Arjuna’s chariot as he scanned the horizon. Observing him, Shalyaraja commented, ‘Karna, you have truly shown your valour today. Look at the battlefield: I am reminded of a river in spate, the chariot umbrellas look like swans while the soldiers lying on the field looking like logs. All their weapons, lying scattered, seem like the foam on the surface of a wave. Only you could have created this. I am impressed.’ Shalyaraja’s praise did not touch Karna. He replied, ‘This does not give me any pleasure. I have challenged Arjuna yesterday, and I have been looking for him since dawn. It is almost noon now. If you really wish to praise me, find Arjuna’s chariot. It is only when I kill him that this madness will get over.’ ‘Radheya, I know what you wish for. You managed to defeat Dharmaraja and, for that matter, Shikhandi, Satyaki, Yudhamanyu, Nakula, Sahadeva and Bheema. I know Krishna is trying to keep his chariot out of your way for fear of a direct confrontation. I know you are the only one who has the capability to overpower Arjuna.’ ‘Let’s find him then!’

‘You have given me this task knowing my capabilities, haven’t you? Don’t I know that Arjuna’s chariot, at the other end of the field, would be protected heavily and that you would have to face multiple challenges on the way before you reach him? One cannot estimate the time it would take.’ ‘Can you not take the chariot around the field?’ ‘Angaraj, you are senapati! Do you realize that the troops would be demoralized if your chariot is not visible?’ ‘Don’t worry about that. Even my enemy knows that I will not run away. My troops are fine as long as they see Duryodhana’s chariot. Now, let us find Arjuna.’ Shalyaraja obliged and moved the chariot to the periphery of the battlefield, avoiding any direct conflict. As they crossed a sandy stretch, Karna spotted Arjuna’s chariot. A shiver of excitement ran across his spine. He looked at the quiver at his feet and selected a few arrows as he waited for the final confrontation. Arjuna’s chariot was clearly in sight now. With a grinding sound, Karna’s chariot suddenly came to a halt. Shalyaraja raised his whip high before it landed on the horses’ backs but it made no difference. Karna was alert, fearing the worse. The horses struggled, trying to pull the chariot forward but it did not budge. A strange fear stabbed Karna’s heart. He asked, ‘What happened?” ‘What we did not expect—one of the wheels is stuck in the mud.’ A wry smile spread across Karna’s face. ‘We can fool ourselves but not nature. I when I had accidentally caused death of an innocent cow. The Brahmin who owned the cow cursed me that my chariot would get stuck in a battlefield. His curse has come true today. Had my soldiers followed me, they would have easily lifted the chariot out. Anyway, let us both try and take the wheel out.’ Shalya let out a deep sigh and got off the chariot. What he said next surprised Karna.‘Radheya, don’t bother to get off. You cannot manage to take it out alone.’ ‘I thought you got off to help me … why …’

‘I accepted this task only on Duryodhana’s insistence. You are low-born and would hardly be aware of the etiquette of requesting someone of my stature for help.’ Karna looked wide-eyed as Shalyaraja continued, letting the horses loose, ‘I am letting the horses go. If you manage to pull the chariot out, blow your conch and I will come back with the horses. Radheya, you unfortunate soul, this is the end you are looking for. There! I can see Arjuna searching for you.’ Without waiting for Karna’s response, Shalyaraja walked away with the horses. While a dejected Karna watched him, he turned around to see Arjuna’s chariot racing towards him. Karna jumped down from his chariot and tried to pull the wheel out using all his strength. The veins of his arms bulged, but the wheel did not move. But Karna’s efforts were in vain. The wheel stuck adamantly in the sand. Thoughts raced through his mind as he tried again. The wheel of a chariot! Isn’t it the same as the wheel of life, the wheel of dharma? I followed a life of dharma, protecting my ideals, never ed or told a lie, and never refused anyone who asked for help. What did it lead to? This heart-rending moment? Arjuna’s chariot wheels sounded louder as he neared Karna. He turned to see Arjuna standing in his chariot, the horses foaming at their mouths. Krishna had pulled the reins sharply to stop the horses. Seeing Arjuna pick up his bow, Karna said, ‘Arjuna, wait! I am trying to remove the wheel. It is not right to attack me when I am trying to take this out. I am willing to fight on your . If you win, the victory shall be yours in all its glory. Give me some time.’ Arjuna could see a helpless, weapon-less Karna. He did not have the courage to pull the strings of his bow. Krishna realized the importance of the moment, and his voice rang in Karna’s ears as he said, ‘Are you finally recalling dharma now? What happened to your wisdom when you ordered Draupadi’s to be disrobed? Where was your dharma when you defeated Dharmaraja at the game of dice? Did your dharma not warn you before you called Draupadi a base woman? And how do you justify the killing of Abhimanyu?’ Krishna’s words pierced Karna’s heart. A surge of anger ran through him as he glared at Krishna. Each accusation added to the fire already burning inside

Karna, and his mind was in a tumult. Was this really Krishna speaking? Krishna is doing this to force Arjuna to pick up his bow! Surely Yudhishthira knew that he was accepting a challenge from someone like Shakuni? Did he not accept the invitation despite this knowledge? And yet, I am being blamed for his mistakes. It was Yudhishthira who insisted on staking Draupadi in the game. Ironically, this is seen as a gesture of his purity, while I am being blamed for having ordered her disrobing when she has already been declared a slave. How convenient! Krishna, were you able to control yourself when you forgot your own promise and let Bhishma fall? How then can you blame me, when I have had to bear the insults of being low-born forever? Is it really surprising that I lost patience? Abhimanyu’s death was a heinous crime. This Karna had to send his children into the battlefield of their own volition. I don’t understand how Abhimanyu’s death is a matter of grief while my son, of the same age, can be sacrificed so easily. Krishna, you cannot blame me for everything. It is not fair! You want victory? To keep Arjuna alive? It is yours and you know that! If I had been after victory, the glamour of royalty and the need to fulfil my worldly desires, I could have got it by accepting your request. Being the eldest, I would have been crowned the emperor and would have had the first right on Draupadi. Are those not your words? I used to revere life, but your intervention made me lose all will to live. I don’t fear death. I can easily save my life—all it takes is to ask Arjuna. If I say, “Parth, before you pull the bowstring, ask Krishna how we are related.” Would this war not end then and there? Krishna, I don’t want to live any more. I am tired. All I want is death. The way a warrior should die—fighting. Karna heard Krishna’s final words, ‘Arjuna, what are you waiting for? He tried to insult Draupadi in the assembly. He took the help of five men to kill your son. Karna is responsible for this carnage. There is no time for thought. There is no place for pardon. You have a duty to perform—his death! Redeem the world of this sinner by killing him!’ ‘Sinner?’ Karna asked in disbelief. At that moment, an arrow shot past his ears, deafening him for a moment. Karna’s anger boiled over and like a sun emerging from behind a cloud, he stood

up and climbed into his chariot. He answered Arjuna’s attack, and a shower of arrows flew back and forth between them as they engaged in a deadly duel. Arjuna’s headgear fell off while Karna’s armour was pierced in various places. Both of them were wounded and bleeding. But the two warriors continued fighting, unmindful of their wounds. Karna selected a powerful arrow and, pulling the string with all his might, released it. The arrow, flying through the air, pierced Arjuna’s chest. Losing balance, Arjuna’s Gandiva bow fell down and he held on to the chariot’s post to himself. Krishna glanced at Karna in surprise before turning to help Arjuna. Karna, without losing time, picked up another arrow and took aim when he noticed Krishna fanning Arjuna with a blue shawl tied to his waist. It was the angavastram he had given Kunti. It was a moment Karna had never anticipated. The sight of his angavastram made him lose his resolve. His anger, vanished and he ed the promise he had made. The bow slipped from his hands as he stared at Arjuna. Was I going to perform a ignoble act, lost in anger and enveloped in arrogance? Mother, I am glad you have reminded me of my promise! You have chosen the five you wanted. How would the sixth one fit there? I may be your firstborn, but I will happily choose to be the last. There was no more bitterness now as Karna looked at Arjuna. His face turned serene, like a lotus blooming over a lake. Getting off the chariot, he tried pushing the wheel. Using his shoulders, he tried to lift the chariot while his hands continued to push the wheel. Arjuna got up just then. Krishna, pointing at Karna said, ‘Arjuna, this is the moment you have been waiting for. If Karna manages to push the wheel out, you will not be able to defeat him! You must act now!’ Arjuna, badly hurt and insulted by the temporary unconsciousness he had had to bear on the battlefield, rose like a cobra. Picking up his bow, he selected a special arrow. Karna turned to see Arjuna placing the arrow on the bow. A smile flickered on his face. He looked up in the sky. It was just past noon. He would normally be

standing at the riverside, waiting to give charity to anyone who came to him. He had never asked whether the one receiving was an enemy or a friend. Karna was now prepared to make the biggest charity of his life. He turned a little so that he faced Arjuna squarely, lest he be seen as shying away from his duty. Like lightning, the arrow was visible for the briefest of moments before piercing Karna’s neck. His hands slumped from the wheel as he lay in the shadow of his chariot. He could see Arjuna’s chariot racing away. The blue angavastram floated to the ground as Karna closed his eyes.

54

It was a hot afternoon when the sound of the conch shells announcing a victory filled the skies. The Pandavas were rejoicing, while the Kauravas looked worried at their celebrations. Duryodhana stopped his chariot for a moment and fearing the worst, he turned his chariot in the southern direction from where the sounds seemed to be coming. Soon, he saw Shalyaraja walking with two horses in tow. He asked eagerly, ‘Where are you taking these horses? And where is Karna?’ Shalyaraj’s eyes were filled with tears. He said, pointing south, ‘Duryodhana, your friend met Arjuna.’ Duryodhana did not wait to hear any more. He asked the charioteer to go as fast as he could. Soon, he could see Karna’s chariot but there was no one standing in it. The flag was missing. Seeing the chariot without its horses, standing all alone, Duryodhana lost all his resolve. He jumped down with tears flowing down his face and ran towards the chariot. Seeing Karna lying on the ground, he slowed down. Karna’s bare back, exposed to the sun, showed no signs of wounds. It seemed as though he was asleep. Duryodhana pulled Karna with his shoulders to make him sit but a gasp escaped his lips when he turned Karna’s head. An arrow had pierced his neck. It was an impossible sight for Duryodhana to bear. ‘Karna, why have you left this friend of yours? How did this happen? I am orphaned without you! Angaraj, it was on the strength of your valour that I had jumped into this battle! Did you not promise me victory? You are Mrityunjaya, the one who has conquered death, aren’t you? How can you forget the promise you made? The very mention of the enemy made you tremble with anger. How can you not hear their celebrations now?’ Karna opened his eyes slowly. Duryodhana gently placed Karna’s head on his lap and said, ‘You are alive! You are alive!’ Seeing his friend in tears, a smile flashed across Karna’s face. He said, ‘I was waiting for you, my friend! How can I leave without meeting you?’ Duryodhana’s tears continued to flow down his cheeks. ‘Angaraj, how can I

think of winning when you are not there?’ Karna could barely speak. Trying to make him comfortable, Duryodhana gingerly touched the arrow but seeing Karna’s agonized face, he withdrew his hand. Karna said, ‘Yuvraj, just leave it alone. I want to speak to you.’ Karna paused before continuing, ‘Duryodhana, the conch shells you hear are a celebration of my victory.’ ‘What victory are you talking about? It is the sound of destruction.’ ‘No, this is true victory, my friend! Life is not about living for a long time, but about living a fulfilled life. This battlefield is the right place to bid life farewell. I have earned that.’ ‘Angaraj!’ ‘Don’t be so despondent, my friend! You will get what you want—victory.’ ‘Karna, we have lost Bhishmacharya, Dronacharya and many other leaders in the last seventeen days. My army has lost its nerve now. There is no way we can round them up. What victory are you talking of?’ ‘Don’t lose hope. You want victory, isn’t it? You can if …’ ‘How?’ ‘Make Ashwatthama the commander instead of Shalya. He will lead you to victory.’ ‘What can Ashwatthama do which Bhishma, Drona or Karna could not?’ ‘Listen to me! A commander needs to be completely loyal. You were unlucky to have Bhishma and Drona who could never give up their affection for the Pandavas. They always prayed for their well-being. How can you expect them to give their best?’ ‘What about you, Karna?’

‘Me too! I too could not show you my complete loyalty. You will understand that someday. Shalyaraja is a friend of the Pandavas as well. Don’t hand over the reins to him. Make Ashwatthama the commander and victory will be yours.’ ‘No, that is not possible. I am bound by my promise to Shalya. I can accept defeat but cannot go back on my word.’ ‘Duryodhana, I know your values. We could never waiver from the path of dharma and our enemy never followed it.’ Karna curled his fist. Duryodhana watched him suffer in agony as Karna continued, ‘Yuvraj, I am blessed to see tears in my friend’s eyes as I leave this world. I bore a lot of insults despite my valour, charity and spotless character. I was able to walk with my head held up high thanks to the love and respect I received from you. I shall always remain in your debt for that. Would you do one thing for me?’ Karna closed his eyes, the effort to speak was making him tired. ‘Tell me, my friend! Command me!’ Karna opened his eyes after a while, the effort clearly telling on his face. ‘We have very little time now. Can you see the angavastram lying there? The blue one? Can you spread it out over me?’ Duryodhana looked around and saw a blue cloth lying a little distance away. He gently placed Karna’s head on the ground and went to pick the cloth. It felt heavy as it had a beautifully embroidered border all along. He could see a satisfied look on Karna’s face as he walked back with it. Unfurling the cloth, he placed it gently over Karna, covering his entire body up to his neck. He sat down on his knees. Karna said, ‘I am at peace now, my friend. Don’t shed tears for me anymore.’ Karna’s eyes scanned the sky and looked at the sun. He asked, ‘Yuvraj, have you ever seen the sun set at noon?’ Duryodhana looked up to see the sun burning brightly. He bent to look at Karna to find his eyes wide open, staring at the sun. His friend was no more! Duryodhana’s tears streamed down his cheeks onto Karna’s fist which had opened up, his palm facing downwards. The tears fell on Karna’s palm and went into the ground. Even in his final moments, he seemed to be giving.

ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR

VIKRANT PANDE started translating from the Marathi with Ranjit Desai’s classic novel Raja Ravi Varma, the story of India’s most celebrated painter. He has since translated Milind Bokil’s Shala, N.S. Inamdar’s Rau: The Great Love Story of Bajirao Mastani, Shahenshah: The Life of Aurangzeb and Girish Kuber’s Tatas: The Family that Built a Business and a Nation. A graduate of Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore, Vikrant worked in the corporate sector for twenty-five years before shifting to the field of education as the vice chancellor with TeamLease Skills University at Vadodara. He is currently the president of Northern Arc Foundation.

ABOUT THE BOOK

‘Who am I?’ It was a question that had troubled him all his life. His whole life had seemed entangled in the answer. His dignity, his destination, his ambitions— they all seemed linked to that entanglement. The irony was that the truth, instead of liberating him, had made him rudderless.

Angaraja. Sutaputra. Radheya. Kaunteya. Mrityunjaya.

In the Mahabharata, Karna is said to be the only one who can match Arjuna’s skill as an archer. Born of a god and a mother who abandoned him at birth, Karna is mistreated throughout his life. Rejected by Drona, taunted by Draupadi, insulted by his blood brothers, misunderstood by many and manipulated even by the gods, Karna is the classic tragic hero.

In his novel Radheya, Ranjit Desai, the author of Marathi classics like Shriman Yogi and Swami, gives voice to the angst and loneliness of Karna. Translated into English for the first time, the novel brings to the fore the many facets of Karna’s character: his comionate nature, his hurt and hubris, his love for his wife, his allegiance to Duryodhana, and his complicated relationship with Krishna.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

RANJIT DESAI (1928–1992) was born in Kolhapur district of Maharashtra. He was considered a large-hearted litterateur whose writing engaged the readers at the highest level of emotional dialogue. He started writing when he settled in Kowad after his graduation. A writer of short stories, plays and novels, Ranjit Desai received an award for his very first short story, ‘Bhairav’, published in the magazine Prasad in 1946. He published his short story collection, Roop Mahal in 1958 and stepped into the world of novels with Baari in the same year. He received many awards including the Maharashtra Rajya Award (1963, for Swami), the Hari Narayan Apte Award (1963, for Swami), the Sahitya Akademi Award (1964, for Swami), and the Maharashtra Gaurav Puraskar (1990). The Government of India gave him the Pa Shri in 1973.

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First published in India in 2019 by Harper Perennial An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers A-75, Sector 57, Noida, Uttar Pradesh 201301, India www.harpercollins.co.in

In association with Mehta Publishing House, Pune

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Originally published as Radheya in 1973 by Mehta Publishing House Copyright © Madhumati Shinde and Paru Madan Naik 2019 English translation copyright © Vikrant Pande 2019

P-ISBN: 978-93-5357-140-5 Epub Edition © July 2019 ISBN: 978-93-5357-141-2

This is a work of fiction and all characters and incidents described in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Ranjit Desai asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved under The Copyright Act, 1957. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, ed, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers India.

Cover illustrations : Subhash Awchat Cover design : HarperCollins Publishers India

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