Karna's Wife (16 page)

Read Karna's Wife Online

Authors: Kavita Kane

BOOK: Karna's Wife
13.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

There was a long silence which Uruvi was suddenly afraid to break, scared that it would shatter the easy camaraderie between them. What madness had prompted her to mention such a forbidden topic! Or was it her jealous heart overwhelming her usually rational mind?

Karna’s next words were calm as if the storm had passed. ‘Our rivalry goes beyond women, dear,’ he said slowly. ‘Arjuna has always been thrown at me as a comparison for the qualities I supposedly lacked. He is said to be my superior—but I don’t think so. I am not less of a warrior than him, considering all the disadvantages I had to live through while he sailed smoothly with all the benefits of being a prince! And it’s not just an ego clash; the resentment is far too deep. I guess we were born to be enemies,’ he shrugged, the expression on his face composed. The enormity of the rivalry clearly did not ruffle him.

‘Coming back to where we started, you rightly mentioned that now, especially with the city of Indraprastha blooming into a more beautiful and prosperous place than Hastinapura and with Yudhishthira proclaimed as its emperor, Duryodhana is, of course, enraged! Yet he refuses to confront the Pandavas!’

Uruvi took the cue and continued the discussion. ‘It’s possible that he hoped the powerful King Jarasandha of Magadha would have vanquished the Pandavas,’ she remarked thoughtfully. ‘But Krishna shrewdly had the king killed in the duel with Bhima before the Rajasuya yagna, and now there is no one to object to Yudhishthira’s assumption of the throne, not even Duryodhana. He either fights him valiantly or accepts the reality, however distasteful it is to him. Anway, Yudhishthira on his part is full of humility, as he always is. I hear that the Rajasuya celebrations are going to be magnificent and that Yudhishthira has involved all the members of the Kuru family, even Vikarna, Duryodhana’s younger brother, besides Bhima, Arjuna, Nakul and Sahadeva.’

‘Lord Krishna is in charge of washing the feet of all the guests,’ said Karna with deep reverence. ‘It seems that all the duties had already been assigned to others, so Krishna offered to take up this task most humbly. “Am I so unworthy that I cannot do this task?” he is said to have asked Yudhishthira. “Work is honour and there is dignity in any kind of work.’”

‘Yes, there is!’ chuckled someone, making them turn in surprise. It was Krishna, who had suddenly turned up in person. Uruvi was astounded to see the most powerful king and ally of the Pandavas at Karna’s palace, and her surprise clearly showed, for Krishna remarked with a smile, ‘Wonders do not cease to happen! But has Karna told you the meatiest bit of news? He is part of the preparations for the celebration too. Since Karna is so well known for his generosity and charity, Yudhishthira has handed him the responsibility of looking after this part-charity! In fact, I am here to discuss a few matters about the Rajasuya.’

Karna gave him a reverential bow. Uruvi turned a delighted smile on her husband. ‘You are helping out too?’ she looked visibly elated.

‘Uh, er, yes, it’s for a good cause…and I couldn’t turn down Yudhishthira’s request,’ he muttered self-consciously. His face had turned scarlet, and Uruvi could not help beaming more broadly. Her face was radiant, her eyes twinkling in a sudden burst of cheerfulness. That he would be together with Krishna and the Pandavas filled her with happiness. It would not last long, she knew, but she wanted to revel in the moment. Krishna observed the glow on her face and smiled knowingly.

‘I hope, dear, that I have not earned your disapproval by killing Jarasandha,’ mocked Krishna, giving her an exaggerated bow. ‘Am I spared your sharp tongue and haughty glare? Karna, how can you live with this shrew?’

‘He is leading a charmed life, don’t worry,’ she laughed and added in mock anger, ‘Are you here to create problems between me and my husband? With Jarasandha, you played it very safe as usual! With him dead, you have rescued the eighty-six princes he had imprisoned. And best of all, Yudhishthira’s Rajasuya yagna can be held peacefully…’

‘Don’t be too sure of that! There are still quite a few who are not happy about Yudhishthira declaring himself as the emperor. What do you say, Karna?’

‘Those who are unhappy about it should challenge Yudhishthira in a battle,’ Karna replied flatly. ‘Accepting tributes and allegiance from all the kings is what the yagna is all about. By performing the Rajasuya sacrifice, Yudhishthira will have crowned himself the emperor and impose his imperial authority.’

‘Spoken like a true warrior,’ commended Krishna. ‘What else can the worthy pupil of Parshurama advise?’

Though she was supremely happy watching her husband’s camaraderie with Krishna, Uruvi found Karna’s observations a little jarring. ‘That is giving sanction to the annexation of other kingdoms in the guise of imperial authority. Shouldn’t a king concentrate on his subjects and rule his own kingdom in fairness, in prosperity? Rather than expanding his empire though war for personal greed or to gain power, he would be better appreciated by his subjects if he looked after them!’

‘A king cannot live without ambitions, it’s his noble virtue,’ argued her husband. ‘Heroic deeds are what make a kshatriya illustrious. Whatever his other qualities, it is heroism that makes a warrior. What is life without effort and enthusiasm? We should build our strengths and use them as weapons to lead a successful life. Failure often happens because we fail to recognize our strengths and our weaknesses.’

Krishna looked delighted at Karna’s words. ‘O pupil of Parshurama, what you say is true. Death comes to all, the hero as well as the weak, the brave as well as the cowardly, but the noblest duty of a kshatriya is to be true to his faith, to overcome his foes in righteous battle, and to win glory.’

‘At the cost of peace and prosperity? That’s hollow reasoning!’ countered Uruvi spiritedly. ‘Why should a king not be satisfied with ruling his kingdom and making it a peaceful, prosperous state? He forgets that’s his responsibility too—he owes it to his people and his subjects. If each king thought this way, there would be no war, no conflict, no confrontations.’

‘That is idealistic, if not futile thinking, dear. Man is not a peaceful being,’ Krishna said gently. ‘You are a kshatriya’s daughter and hearing you speak such words of the faint-hearted is strange.’

‘I am saying this
because
I am a kshatriya’s daughter!’ she retorted, her words sharpening not so much with anger as with the pain that clouded her mind. ‘I have lived with it all through childhood, tormented by constant worry, and I have seen my mother do the same, and my grandmother before her as well. It is easy starting wars; ending them is not in your hands because the end is always terrible. Each time my father went for battle, I lived in the fear that he would not return. And if he had died, it would have been a heroic death on the battlefield, wouldn’t it? But what good would it have done for me or my mother? That she was a hero’s widow and me a hero’s fatherless child? What good has war done except give satisfaction to those seeking vain glory?’

She became dejected, the anger suddenly dissipating, punctured by an unusual anxiety and a fearful apprehension of what was to come. Would she be struck with the same terror for Karna’s life each time he went to war? Krishna smiled at her bowed head, her face averted to hide the pain tearing through her. He quietly beckoned to Karna and they left the room. Uruvi was oblivious of their absence, and when Karna returned later, he noticed Uruvi staring vacantly into the distance. ‘Why are you so upset?’ he asked gently.

She turned to him. Her face was ravaged with grief. ‘Because I fear I shall lose you. I live with that dread, I sleep with that fear, I wake up with that thought,’ she whispered, a sob in her voice. ‘And what will take you away from me is war, a bloody, pointless war. I can foresee it. O Karna, leave the Kuru princes—then we can be much happier.’

Karna heaved a long sigh and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘We live with our choices, and we choose to live in a certain way,’ he said gently, drawing her close. ‘I choose to be a kshatriya, a warrior. I choose to be with the Kauravas. You choose to be with me as my wife. We have made our decisions. Neither of us can turn back, can we? What had to happen has happened. What is to happen will happen anyway…’ he nudged her slightly. If you look so pale, what will your parents and Kunti say? That I have not treated you well!’

At the mention of Kunti, and the prospect of meeting her parents soon, Uruvi forced herself to brighten up, smiling through her fears. ‘You didn’t tell me you were helping the Pandavas with the Rajasuya event. How do you feel about being with them?’ she asked instead.

Karna smiled. ‘I know what you are getting at—but this is a temporary arrangement, Uruvi. I won’t be with them forever.’

‘I wish you would!’ she blurted before she could restrain herself.

‘I couldn’t even if I wanted to,’ Karna sighed. ‘The Pandavas have never accepted me.’ There was a resigned ring in his voice. ‘All I wanted to do was devote my life to archery. That is what I am good at and what I know best. And all I want is to spend my life perfecting this skill. It was only Duryodhana who gave me this chance to do so. He made me a warrior, an archer and a king, although the last I don’t really like, frankly. The Pandavas didn’t give me any chances. And that’s how it is—me with Duryodhana and Arjuna with Krishna.’

‘If you had chosen Krishna, glory would have been yours too,’ she said. ‘People like Duryodhana will always seek you out because they need you to serve their selfish interests. But with Krishna, you will have to seek—with the love and devotion your heart is so full of. If you had gone to him, he would not have refused you.’

‘Dear Uruvi,’ Karna answered with a weary smile. ‘You want me to befriend Krishna, but if I do so, won’t I be self-serving like Duryodhana whom you accuse of being an opportunist? I love Krishna, I respect him. I bow to him. And I want to be like him in my small way. Like him, I want to give everything I can to one and all. And when Duryodhana asked for my hand of friendship, I gave it to him, no questions asked. Uruvi, Duryodhana
needs
me, just the way Arjuna needs Krishna. Arjuna asked for his help, so Krishna couldn’t refuse. Duryodhana asked for my help, and I cannot refuse either. Perhaps, one day, I might go to Krishna for help, or possibly, Krishna himself will come to me and there may be something I can do for him.’

Uruvi fell silent, wondering if she should welcome or dread that day.

 

Like Bhanumati, Duryodhana’s wife, Uruvi was eager to visit the beautiful palace built by the Pandavas. One of the reasons why she agreed to attend the Rajasuya yagna was to satisfy her curiosity. There was an interesting story about the palace. Indraprastha had been built where the Khandava forest once stood. A dangerous forest where no humans could live, it was infested with snakes and other feral creatures. With the blessings of Krishna, Yudhishthira requested Agni, the fire god, to burn down the forest so that he could build his dream city, but Mayadanav, a demon who lived there, was scared when he heard the forest was going to be destroyed. He begged for sanctuary, and was given permission to stay on, but on one condition: that he would build them a city and a grand palace that the world would look up to in awe. Mayadanav, a protégé of Vishvakarma, the architect of the gods, willingly agreed. He constructed the city of Indraprastha for the Pandavas, which was so beautiful that it had no rival in its splendour either on earth or in heaven. But the pride of Indraprastha was the imperial palace with its fantastic design, and this was where Kunti took Uruvi to show her around.

The moment she entered the palace, Uruvi was struck by its air of mystery. Nestled in a beautifully landscaped garden of fruit trees and scented creepers, the palace rose gracefully from the luxuriant greenery. It was beautiful but perplexing to Uruvi. The strangely ornate workmanship faintly annoyed her; it seemed to have been overdone. Though the palace befitted the grandeur of the king of kings and the greatest of princes, it breathed beauty but lacked soul. Uruvi preferred not to voice her thoughts to Kunti or anyone else—no one would have agreed with her, she smiled wryly. All the guests were too impressed with this marvel of supernatural architecture.

‘Why this fantastic play of magic? This is to be your home, not a museum!’ remarked Uruvi. Kunti gave her a small smile. This girl was as tactless as ever. Clearly, neither marriage nor its responsibilities had blunted her thoughts or her tongue.

‘Where’s Draupadi? Why is she nowhere to be seen?’ Uruvi asked curiously.

She was busy with the Rajasuya preparations, Kunti hastily explained and ushered Uruvi into her bedroom. Uruvi was not taken in by Kunti’s show of exuberance. Something was definitely amiss. Arjuna had been exceptionally frosty with her and barely civil to Karna, only as much as the occasion forced him to be. She could understand his cold resentment, but what puzzled her was Draupadi’s strange behaviour, for she seemed to be avoiding them completely
.
Uruvi had not yet been formally introduced to her and had not seen her the entire day. Was this Draupadi’s way of treating her as a sutaputra’s wife? Uruvi felt the clammy hand of a cold snub. And with a sickening realization, she recalled that she had not even received a formal invite—it was Kunti who had coaxed her to visit Indraprastha and the new palace. In contrast to the cold dismissal by his brother and his wife, however, Yudhishthira’s inclusion of Karna in the Rajasuya preparations was indeed a warm, kind gesture. Uruvi dismissed her disturbing thoughts, determined to enjoy herself. Her parents were here and so was Kunti, the people who mattered most to her.

Other books

The Silver Rose by Rowena May O’Sullivan
Thank Heaven Fasting by E. M. Delafield
Irreparable (Wounded Souls) by Lanclos, Amanda
What Never Happens by Anne Holt
The Stand-In by Evelyn Piper