AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (20 page)

Dhritarashtra stood up and walked to the iron replica of Bhima. Caressing it, he allowed his fingers to linger on the dents his mace had made in the iron body. “Whenever Pitamaha left us alone, Pandu would challenge me, making fun of my clumsiness. He was not cruel, he was just being a boy, but at the time, it hurt. It still does. I had my pride and was not one to back away from a challenge. The same blood of the great emperor Bharata flowed in my veins, as it did in Pandu’s. For the first few years, he would lick me in every fight and scream with joy, sitting on my chest. The servants would watch with amusement, commenting on my handsome brother and expressing sympathy for my blindness. More than anything else, the sympathy hurt. Unknown to anyone, I began practising by myself. When the mace fell on my foot, when swords and daggers cut my fingers, or the strings of bows snapped and lashed my face, I refused to cry. I was a Kshatriya! I am not a learned man but I was determined to beat my brother, my handicap notwithstanding. After all, I was to be the next King and kings were the best warriors of all.”

Gandhari did not speak. She had heard it all many times before. The tale never failed to move her to tears. If not for such stories, she would have gone back to Gandhara long ago.

“I got better and better. Five years later, built like an ox, I could shoot better than him, fight better with a mace, and defeat him in hand-to-hand combat. What I lacked in eyesight, I made up with iron will and my other senses. On the day of our graduation, I demonstrated my skill in front of all the citizens of Hastinapura. An elephant had run amok that day, trampling men and horses. I was in the middle of the arena, a blind man with a mace. Even now I can hear the terrified screams of the spectators. To his credit, Pandu ran to stand between the charging elephant and me. I heard the crowd groan as his arrows missed the elephant’s head. The beast was so close that I could smell it. I jumped onto my brother’s shoulders and crashed my mace on the beast’s head. The elephant collapsed. I waited for the crowd to cheer. They did, but it was for Pandu. In the split second between my blow and the elephant falling, he had pierced his sword into the elephant’s mouth. Pitamaha declared that Pandu’s sword had killed the beast, and that he had saved his blind, helpless brother. The Magadhas and Sutas sang of Pandu’s bravery, when anyone with some knowledge of elephants knew a beast that size could not die with a sword thrust, certainly not immediately. It was my mace that killed it.”

Dhritarashtra took a deep breath. He did not speak for some time. Then, with a sudden show of anger, he slammed his fist on the wall. “I saved my brother but there were no songs about my courage. He was the hero. And that was just the beginning. I was cursed with blindness, so I did not deserve the throne, even though I was the firstborn, they said. How could a blind man lead the country in a war, they asked. My brother edged past me, making me a figure of pity. I was cheated at birth, but it did not stop me from eventually becoming King. Fate and destiny interfered in mysterious ways.”

A wicked smile played on Dhritarashtra lips, “God has a way of looking after people like me, Gandhari, men who are shunned by all for no fault of theirs. Men like Karna cannot die unless they are broken from within. We do not need the crutch of scriptures to prop us up. I am proud of Suyodhana for standing by Karna. I know that many, including Pitamaha, wish Karna dead. Why did you turn your head when I said that? Do not deny you turned your head, for I can sense your movements, my dear. You are surprised, Gandhari? I know many things, I who act like a fool and act as if I were helpless without Pitamaha and the other nobles. They all imagine I am as helpless as a calf gone astray, and would never survive alone in this cruel world, nor win. But I have my own spies and I keep a close watch on things happening around me. Don’t laugh, there are ways to watch without eyes.”

Dhritarashtra leaned towards his wife, his face inches from hers. “Do you know why I act like a weakling? The moment I show I can stand on my own without their support, they will conspire against me. I play a part so they can imagine it is they who are running the kingdom. I know Bhishma, and I know he rues the day he relinquished the kingdom. I humour him by saying foolish things and posing as if I cannot take decisions, so that he feels powerful and important. In this way I keep the courtiers at bay, so they do not replace me with someone else. Who knows, they could even appoint Vidhura King if they found out what I really thought of them. After all, we share the same father. They would find some scriptures to justify even that. Of course, I know Vidhura would not be happy with such a decision. He is truly pious. Our scriptures can be interpreted to suit what a few priests want, so I do not take any risks, at least not till Suyodhana can take over. Now call him and give him the benefit of your valuable advice and let me play the affable fool.”

Dhritarashtra took up the mace and began hitting the iron sculpture again. For the first time Gandhari realised she had not married a fool, but it did not make her feel happy. It made things more difficult. She called out to a guard to fetch the Crown Prince to her chamber. When Suyodhana arrived, an intense argument ensued between mother and son.

The more Dhritarashtra heard, the more worried he became. His son was not practical. He was an idealistic fool who valued friendships, relationships and such abstract things over strategy and practicality. He loved his son, but his shrewd mind told him that people who used the concept of
dharma
as a weapon would find a way to trick his son. They would paint him black, citing his foolish act in the Sabha by shaming his cousins’ wife, and make killing him an act of
dharma
against
adharma.

The same people had once cheated him of his crown, quoting obsolete scriptures, and they would do it again to his son. Because of the loyalty he inspired, and his clean heart, his foolish eldest son would drag all his brothers and friends towards disaster. Then they would invite Pandu’s son to sit on the throne, his throne. No! He would not place all his bets on his idealistic son. He had to make his moves carefully. None but his own blood would rule Hastinapura. The bastard sons of Pandu would not inherit at any cost. If they did not allow Suyodhana to inherit, Dhritarashtra would outmanoeuver them. He knew that he himself would appear ridiculous by doing what he planned to do, but he had played the helpless fool for long enough to get away with it. The game was getting deadly with his and his brother’s sons sharpening their swords. They would fight like lions. He needed to bring in a vulture.

There were Brahmins, Kshatriya and Shudras on both sides. It was time to bring a Vaishya into the game, and who better than the greatest of them all, the merchant par excellence – Yuyutsu? In fact, he had already written to his son by a Vaishya woman. He had heard that Yuyutsu’s ships had reached Prabhasa and that his caravan was on its way to Hastinapura. This was not the first time Yuyutsu had visited him, but it would be the first time Dhritarashtra acknowledged him as his son. It was certain to create problems with Gandhari when she realised he had another son, by the Vaishya maid who had once come to help her. But Dhritarashtra knew he could ride the storm. Gandhari had too much at stake. Moreover, the best of it was that Yuyutsu was older than both Suyodhana and Yudhishtra. In other words, he could stake a claim to the throne of Hastinapura. Dhritarashtra chuckled. And this blind fool would sit and watch the Gurus deal with his ace move. ‘Pandu, let us see who wins the final round and whose sons inherit Hastinapura.’ Dhritarashtra began to laugh.

Gandhari and Suyodhana stopped their argument and turned towards him in surprise. “Gandhari, my son will inherit the throne,” he said chuckling.

***

“Father, it is imperative that we go to Gandhara,” Suyodhana said, eyeing his mother sitting nearby. The little twitching of her lips was the only indication that Gandhari had heard her country of birth mentioned.

“Yes! Karna has won us Bharatavarsha. Go to Gandhara, and then Cheenadesa and Yavana, filled with those yellow-haired Mlechas, and capture them all. We can rule the world. I will request Bhishma Pitamaha to lead the armies,” Dhritarashtra said extravagantly.

“Father...” Suyodhana faltered. “The Grand Regent has resigned his position, as has Uncle Vidhura.”

“Resigned! How is it I know nothing of this?” Dhritarashtra turned to Gandhari, agitated and nervous. “Why has he resigned? No, I do not believe it.” He paused and bent his head in thought. ‘The old man is jealous. He thought he would always rule this country in my stead. He always sided with Pandu. Everyone sided with impotent Pandu. He could not even father sons and yet they sided with him and his bastard children! Pandavas! They are nothing but the sons of Kunti and Madri. I will show them what my sons are capable of!” Raising his head, Dhritarashtra tapped his cane on the floor and commanded imperiously, “Call Yuyutsu!”

‘Yuyutsu? Who was he?’ wondered Suyodhana. Puzzled, he looked at his mother. Her fingers had curled into fists but her face remained impassive.

Dhritarashtra walked up and down, leaning on his stick. He paused when he heard footsteps, sensing the newcomer’s presence even before he entered the room quietly. Suyodhana watched in surprise. The man was plump, had a prosperous paunch, and the hair on his head had started receding, giving a broad look to his forehead.

“Strange thing, but his face resembles yours, Suyodhana,” Karna whispered to his friend.

Dhritarashtra turned to his sons. “Suyodhana, Sushasana, this is your half-brother, Yuyutsu. He is my son. His mother is a Vaishya woman. I have kept this a secret, even from your mother. Now he has come here. Do you know how many ships he owns, how many camels and elephants make up his caravans, how many countries he has visited? I have fathered the greatest of Kshatriya sons and the best Vaishya son as well. I do not need divine intervention to have great sons.” Dhritarashtra laughed aloud.

Yuyutsu bent to touch Gandhari’s feet. She reached out her hand and blessed him with an instinctive gesture.

How many terrible secrets did his father hold, wondered Suyodhana as he watched the scene. Was this yet another rival for the throne?

“Prince, I am the eldest son of the family, older than even Yudhishtra,” Yuyutsu said with a sly smile.

Suyodhana’s eyes glittered with cold dislike. He did not trust the merchant’s easy familiarity, shifting eyes and hollow smile.

“I am just a humble merchant, a Vaishya, trying to make a living,” Yuyutsu continued unctuously.

“Well said, Yuyutsu,” Dhritarashtra said. “He could have had the throne for the asking, for he is my eldest son. If I place him at the fore, what argument would the supporters of the Pandavas have? But Yuyutsu knows his
kula dharma
and he will not claim the throne.”

“Father, I request permission to use the imperial army to attack Gandhara,” Suyodhana said, completely ignoring Yuyutsu.

“Go, my son. If you require it, seek Yuyutsu’s help. He has his own army to protect his merchant caravans, which are often five or six
yojanas
long. He has a lakh of men and a large cavalry at his disposal.”

Suyodhana looked away. The pangs of jealousy were unbearable. Another son! The eldest! A possible challenger... No! The throne was rightfully his, he would not surrender it to any merchant, or even to Yudhishtra. But a man with his own standing army, possessed of immense wealth, was dangerous, Suyodhana thought warily.

Yuyutsu smiled, as if reading the Kaurava Prince’s thoughts. Suyodhana bowed his head for his father’s blessings.

“When you conquer Gandhara, do not harm your uncle, no matter what he has done. Bring Shakuni here. He may be in the wrong, but he is the only man who has ever understood my pain. All the others conspired to aid Pandu’s sons,” Dhritarashtra said quietly.

Suyodhana moved to seek Gandhari’s blessing. He whispered to her, “Mother, why do you accept this sly merchant as your step-son?”

“As long as I live, no one but you, my son, will sit on Hastinapura’s throne after your father,” Gandhari murmured in his ear. Suyodhana kissed her on the forehead and turned, almost bumping into Yuyutsu close behind him. Had he heard Gandhari’s words?

The merchant smiled affably at the Prince. “If you require my support with money, men or arms, do not hesitate to approach me. I will do all I can to help.”

Had the wretched man stressed that last word, Suyodhana wondered for a fleeting moment. Without acknowledging the merchant’s words, he rushed out of the chamber, barking commands to his soldiers to have the imperial army assembled quickly.

Karna hurried home to inform his wife but was soon back, beaming with joy. He had become the father of a son. The Gods were smiling on him. He was impatient to go, excited at the thought of battle.

Ekalavya stood nearby, caressing the best horse in the stable and observing the flurry of activity.

The next morning, they were joined by Jayadratha and his men. The imperial army began its journey towards Gandhara. As Suyodhana sat on his horse, supervising the activity, a wayward thought nagged at him – he had not bid farewell to his wife and children. He had been too busy preparing for battle. It was painful talking to Bhanumati these days, her unceasing advice...

An immense caravan was seen approaching Hastinapura from the desert, stretching as far as the eye could see. It carried more wealth than anyone could imagine. For hours it kept marching past the army in the opposite direction. Yuyutsu’s merchant caravan finally entered the capital. As he rushed onwards, Suyodhana wondered whether he would even have a country to rule when he returned from the bleak heights of Gandhara.

*****