Karna's Wife (13 page)

It was Duryodhana who had lifted Karna from the throes of indignity to social glory by declaring him his ally. Ashwatthama and Duryodhana, two of Karna’s closest friends, were different as individuals yet in harmony in their choice of Karna as a friend. Karna loved them unreservedly, his amity peppered with the right mix of respect and courteousness; he knew where he stood in the chain of command. With his innate need to be socially respected, Karna had reciprocated the affection displayed by Ashwatthama and the generosity shown by Duryodhana.

For a man who carried in his heart the wound of unrecognised greatness, their acknowledgement gave him support, cushioning the hurt he felt when others looked down on him. Karna, Uruvi decided, was such a contradiction. If he was respected as the mightiest archer in the kingdom, why was he defeated so often by giving in to his sense of inadequacy? Why was this king, known for his generosity and benevolence, not so generous and kind to himself? Beneath his fierce pride, his self-image could not reconcile to the low social status thrust upon him, the niggling insults piercing his impassive composure. And he continually rebelled against this injustice, combating the world, battling the conflict within himself, yet never hesitating to be faithful to his friends. His loyalty to them was like blind devotion, almost sublime in its intensity.

Whenever Karna praised Duryodhana or when people mentioned Duryodhana’s wonderful friendship with Karna, Uruvi was attacked by an angry helplessness that was almost stifling. Her father’s and Bhishma Pitamaha’s warning words kept echoing dully as an ominous prediction. So intense was the bond of friendship between Duryodhana and Karna, that once Bhishma Pitamaha had told her father that if there was one good quality in Duryodhana, it was his profound fondness for Karna, his closest friend. Uruvi was fearful about their closeness; she watched in exasperated anxiety each time she saw them together. She was wary of Duryodhana and almost terrified of how Duryodhana had manipulated Karna since the day they first met.

Against the setting sun that evening, the martial exhibition at Hastinapur saw the dawn of an extraordinary, unexpected friendship. Duryodhana was the sole person who openly condemned the discrimination demonstrated by Guru Dronacharya and Kripacharya and likened Karna, the worthy warrior, to the sun. On behalf of his new-found friend, the Kuru prince argued fiercely that the sun does not need to prove its brilliance—its identity lies in its power to illuminate the world and Karna had a similar power. From that moment on, Duryodhana gave Karna his hand in friendship and honoured his friend with a new identity.

Uruvi could not understand why Duryodhana bothered to be pleasant to her; he knew she resented him. He knew that she did not spare him and seldom lost a chance to berate him. It was true that they had known each other for more than a decade, but she thought him coarse, brutal and devious. She was puzzled that he did not try to avoid her. Instead, he made a show of friendliness, especially at their wedding when he vociferously raised a toast to them and celebrated the occasion with deliberate gusto.

Karna’s daily presence at the royal courts notwithstanding, Duryodhana, like Ashwatthama, often stopped by to meet his friend at home. ‘This is a recent development,’ observed Vrushali archly, watching the Kuru prince step down from his chariot. ‘I am surprised he knows the way to our house—he never used to visit us before! Not that he is welcome in the house, anyway,’ she shrugged and abruptly turned to Uruvi, a sudden beseeching look darkening her usually calm eyes. ‘Please do me a favour. Neither I, nor Mother, Father nor Shona have ever been able to convince Karna that his friendship with Duryodhana spells nothing but doom. Will you try to do something for me? Something that I have not been able to do for so many years? Keep Karna away from this detestable man!’ With her unusual entreaty still ringing in Uruvi’s ears, the older woman flounced from the room.

Vrushali’s urgent words troubled Uruvi, disquiet sweeping over her. The anxiety made her frostier than she otherwise would have been when Duryodhana entered the room. He was a heavily built man, almost as huge as Bhima, with great broad shoulders and ungainly limbs. His face always wore a sardonic expression; his features were hard, large and heavy. He constantly pulled at his thick moustache, a gesture that Uruvi found faintly annoying.

‘You wanted to speak with me?’ It was more a statement than a question, but Duryodhana seemed unruffled by her brusqueness.

‘Yes, all I want to say is that it pleases me that you are Queen of Anga rather than the Queen of Indraprastha.’

Duryodhana’s words had a ring of honesty, but Uruvi was unsure about how true they were. She preferred to misconstrue his statement. She let herself get riled, to provoke anger in this man whose friendship with her husband left her so helplessly furious. ‘Ah, Indraprastha…I have heard it’s the most beautiful city existing today,’ she replied pleasantly. ‘The barren Khandavaprastha has been converted to Indraprastha, the city of gold, I hear. The Pandavas have so wonderfully re-established the ancient capital! The ruins have been transformed into such a wealthy city,’ she gushed. ‘The Pandavas are ruling Indraprastha, bringing back all its glory. The credit, I must say, besides the resourcefulness of the Pandavas, goes to your father who came up with this fine demonstration of fairness and justice by halving the kingdom and giving away the arid part to the Pandavas.’

Uruvi knew she had struck a raw nerve. Duryodhana flinched. ‘Are you provoking me, dear Princess?’ he asked softly. ‘I won’t pretend that I am happy with my father’s decision. He was forced to obey Bhishma Pitamaha and Guru Dronacharya,’ he replied shortly. ‘They would like to believe that the Pandavas are entitled to half of the kingdom. I don’t; nor does Karna. We differ with their opinion and agree that the kingdom shouldn’t have been divided. Karna, though, believes in battling out. His suggestion was—and I fully consented to it—that we launch a surprise attack on the Pandavas and King Drupad before Krishna joined them with his Yadava army. His argument was that we attack the Pandavas before they grow stronger and more friends join up with them. I, frankly, would have preferred something more subtle and less direct than an open battle, but Karna staunchly believes we should fight and take a more aggressive way out.’

‘Why are you telling me this, Duryodhana?’ she asked coldly, her voice freezing. ‘From when has any woman been informed or asked for advice on court politics and family intrigue? Besides, neither Karna nor I are part of your family to interfere in the affairs concerning your relatives. Please keep us out of your family feuds.’ She tossed her head and got up to leave the room.

Duryodhana’s next words stopped her. ‘Karna is part of my family. He is my closest friend, as dear to me as Dushasana and my other brothers. He is like my brother, Uruvi.’

‘But he is
not
your brother!’ she pointed out vehemently. ‘He is not and never can be. Leave us alone, Duryodhana. Don’t involve Karna in your family disputes. You have a long-drawn-out problem with your cousins. Solve it in your way but do not drag my husband into the familial mess. Your family already resents his presence in the royal court—they find him too interfering, which in a way, is not unfounded. Karna should not be meddling in your family affairs but he does because you allow him to. You want him to.’

‘He speaks as a true friend for a friend in need. And in my hour of trouble, I need him by my side.’

‘You said it,’ she said scornfully. ‘How would you define your “hour of trouble”—your fight with the Pandavas or your deep grouse against them? That resentment exists since your childhood. Why should Karna help you fight your war with your cousins? Isn’t that why you made him the King of Anga in the first place? So that he is forever indebted to you? It’s no friendship you claim, Duryodhana, it’s a devious arrangement, it’s emotional extortion!’ she lashed out. ‘You are playing on his loyalty and his deep sense of gratitude,’ Uruvi flamed with passion, seething with anger against the man who was smiling tolerantly at her. ‘Can you deny that you see him as the only worthwhile opponent against Arjuna in the battlefield? Do you deny that Karna is just a pawn in your game against the Pandavas? Do you deny that you are neatly playing up the rivalry between Arjuna and Karna to your advantage so that they hate each other as you had planned? And now you want to place me in the plot as well. Don’t make me say more harsh words than what I have already uttered… but please, let him be!’

Her eyes glittered dangerously in her pale face. The man smiled inwardly; he had purposely provoked her this time and had won the round. ‘Whatever I may say, you are not going to believe me because, you too, like others, are too prejudiced. But please understand this; Karna is the only true friend I have. I respect him and I love him dearly—don’t ever question that,’ he pronounced quietly, biting hard into each word for emphasis. ‘You ask me to let him be. Though unwilling, I am sure I could,’ he said. Uruvi could not understand why a flicker of a smile crossed Duryodhana’s face when he seemed to agree with her.

She soon found out.

His eyes gleaming with triumph, he went close to her to say softly, ‘But will
he
let me do that?’

‘You ask me to let him be. Though unwilling, I am sure I could…But will he let me do that?’

Duryodhana’s words rang in Uruvi’s ears. She knew she could not reply to Duryodhana’s hateful question. She had the answer but had to leave it unspoken. A few days later, that answer was put into words by Karna sooner than she had expected. The occasion was a grand feast hosted by Duryodhana and his wife Bhanumati for the newly wed couple. Karna looked pleased when he informed his bride about it but noticed she did not look too thrilled about the invitation.

‘You don’t look very happy about the feast.’

‘I am not comfortable with those people,’ she started hesitatingly, but decided to mince no further words. ‘Why is Duryodhana inviting us when his mother had made it plain that she dislikes us? Queen Gandhari cold-shoulders me and she doesn’t even speak to you civilly! Moreover, has Duryodhana ever invited you and Vrushali together to his palace?’ she asked bluntly.

‘No, he hasn’t. But that’s because you have a different equation with Duryodhana; you have known him since childhood, but Vrushali barely knows him. And where Queen Gandhari is concerned, I know she disapproves of my closeness with her son. I am way too beneath them.’

Uruvi looked impatient. ‘She doesn’t affect me, but Duryodhana does. Like her, I don’t understand why you need to be so close to him. No one likes him—not your mother nor your brother. Vrushali disapproves of him. And so do I,’ she flashed. ‘I wasn’t particularly fond of him in our childhood either. He was mean and manipulative then; he is still so now.’

‘I know you dislike him. But that does not change my feelings for my friend,’ Karna replied evenly. ‘I am not telling you to change yours nor can you change mine. All I am telling you is that we have been invited for a lunch feast and propriety demands we graciously go.’

Uruvi tried to sound sensible. ‘I shall go for the feast, but just this one time. Please do not expect me to socialize with a person I do not like, and whom, frankly, you need to stay away from. Karna, Duryodhana is not a good man,’ she added weakly.

Karna smiled wryly and Uruvi looked sharply at him. ‘I am serious. It’s not just me—no one who loves you is pleased about your close association with Duryodhana. All of us are worried. He is known to be a power-hungry wolf, and is using you as his strongest weapon against the Pandavas. And worse, he is dragging you into his private war with his cousins. It’s a family feud and it’s best you stay clear of it. What I am telling you…’

‘…is what so many others have warned me about often as well. But, it goes a long way, and I cannot
not
be his friend because of his flaws. You accept a friend with his faults, however bad.’

Uruvi responded, saying bluntly. ‘His faults will be your undoing! You are
not
one of the Kauravas. You are
not
family. You are
not
like him.’

‘He was the only one who has helped me at all times. Always,’ he repeated quietly.

‘By crowning you King of Anga, has he bought you body and soul, Karna? Are you so indebted to him that you are blinded with gratitude? A friend is one who advises the other when he goes wrong. Have you ever told your friend that he is wrong? That he was wrong when he tried to poison his cousin Bhima? That he is wrong when he does not give what rightfully belongs to the Pandavas—their share of the kingdom? That he was so wrong when he tried to kill the Pandavas and Kunti in the lac palace?’

‘That’s not true…it’s a wicked rumour!’ Karna lashed out angrily.

‘You did not tell him all this because you, like him, believe he is right,’ she pursued relentlessly. ‘In your blind love for your friend, you cannot see nor distinguish between good and bad, right and wrong,’ Uruvi softened her voice, trying to be placating. ‘You refuse to believe the worst about your friend. He is influencing you the same way he himself was so evilly influenced by his uncle, Shakuni. Duryodhana, sadly, is a poisoned man, nursed on hate and envy since childhood. I don’t blame him—he has been brought up to consider the Pandavas as his enemies. Why do you patronize such bitterness in a man whom you call your friend?’