Karna's Wife (26 page)

It was the first time Vrushali had ever stepped into her chamber. Uruvi peered into the cradle. The baby was fast asleep so she continued talking to Vrushali. ‘Has the situation worsened so much?’ Uruvi asked almost apologetically, but she already knew the answer. All the men in the family were on the battlefield and that is how it would be from now on. Karna saw himself as a pioneer, a crusader for the Kuru family, and his sons, who were young and enthusiastic, had caught on to their father’s sense of purpose in expanding the frontiers of the Kuru kingdom. They and Shona were too devoted to Karna to disobey him.

‘I have already lost one son, my Sudhama, needlessly,’ Vrushali’s usually serene face was creased with pain. ‘We haven’t yet recovered from that tragedy at Draupadi’s swayamwara, but Draupadi has managed to cast her spell again!’ Vrushali looked uncharacteristically virulent. ‘She and that wretched Kuru prince, Duryodhana! Radheya will never free himself from Duryodhana! He is with the Kauravas but he is not like them—and they know this well! They fooled him into thinking the dice game was without any great stakes. Knowing full well that Radheya was against the dice game right from the beginning, Duryodhana and Shakuni had warned Dushasana not to allow Radheya to enter the Kuru Raj Sabha when the game was on. But somehow Radheya managed to get in and clearly, on that day, he was the wrong man in the wrong place.’

Uruvi blanched. She did not want to hear of the episode again. Blood rushed to her head and her breathing oppressed her. ‘Oh, that Panchala princess has cast a spell on him since her swayamwara!’ Vrushali fumed, ignoring Uruvi’s discomfiture. ‘She humiliated him publicly and we lost our son because of her! I know that when he saw her vulnerable at the Raj Sabha, it brought all those terrible memories back and he got a chance to get even with her. Calling her a whore because she had five husbands was right, in a way, but morally, he lost out, didn’t he?’ She looked pointedly at Uruvi, prompting her to reply. Uruvi did not bother to answer; she had no intention of getting into a debate on Karna, Draupadi and herself.

Vrushali seemed to be enjoying her awkwardness for some strange reason. ‘Despite all his righteousness, Radheya could not bring himself to forgive that woman. The fact that he refused to help her in her moment of need shows the depth of his resentment and loathing!’ she remarked with malice, a quality no one would have attributed to the mild-mannered Vrushali.

‘Did he discuss the incident with you?’ Uruvi asked quietly.

‘No. Karna doesn’t ever talk about what bothers him; he prefers bottling it all up!’ Vrushali shook her head sadly. ‘I cannot believe he is the same man whom I married so many years ago! He seems to have changed so much. Whether it’s a sign of corruption or maturity is something I fail to understand.’ Vrushali paused for an instant, fingering the mangalsutra hanging around her slender neck. ‘Radheya has only one measure of right and wrong—his blind loyalty to Duryodhana in any situation. Even when he is wrong, Radheya supports him—that’s all that matters to him, fully realizing that it will be his downfall one day. Truth and lies, right and wrong are all a matter of perception. Radheya believes he is right in standing up for his friend; we think he is wrong and his devotion is misplaced because it is for a man who has no integrity. He believes what happened at the Kuru hall was wrong, but he eventually ended up being part of it and now he berates himself silently,’ she sighed.

Vrushali spoke calmly, measuring each word with a certain nonchalance. She persisted in the same vein, ‘I have known him since both of us were very young and, over the years, I have seen him changing—often for the better, sometimes for the worse. I have watched him slowly get sullied. That decadent Kuru prince tried to get him into the habit of drinking, womanizing and gambling, but Radheya, after his initial surrender, retraced his steps fast enough to get back on his feet again. Since then he has been part of Duryodhana’s coterie, yet his heart is not in it. I can see he’s getting sucked into the palace intrigues as well. I guess I lost him a long time ago.’ Vrushali sounded wistful. ‘First I lost him to Duryodhana, then to Draupadi…’

‘Draupadi?’ Uruvi asked sharply.

‘Haven’t you realized it yet, dear? He is utterly fascinated by her and the fact that she rejected him goads him into further madness. It is a horrible love–hate relationship. You wonder whether he loves to hate her or hates to love her.’

What a crazily spinning world I’m living in, Uruvi screamed silently. Here I am so completely in love with a man obsessed with another woman, a woman who loves him too, with the same untamed passion. She glanced at Vrushali, hoping desperately that she was wrong.

Then Uruvi heard her say, ‘And finally, I lost him to you.’

There was a long, deliberate pause, forcing Uruvi to feel uncomfortable. Vrushali looked at her squarely, her eyes clear, condemning her openly. ‘He has gone so far away that he is not mine any more. He stopped coming to my chamber a long time ago. Why are you turning crimson, Uruvi?’ asked Vrushali with evident amusement at her rival’s unease. ‘Seriously, I was jealous of you once, but no longer. I know where I stand. And that’s certainly not coming between you lovebirds. I knew I had to step back—and watch you being his wife and lover, which was a difficult task at first!’ she gave a humourless laugh. ‘You are realizing it finally, aren’t you, that it is rather hard being Radheya’s wife?’

Uruvi looked back at her thoughtfully. ‘Who has had an easy time, Vrushali? Ask my mother or ask our mother-in-law. Bhanumati, too, knows it is not easy being Duryodhana’s wife; Draupadi and Subhadra or even Queen Gandhari and Kunti have faced difficult times in their marriages. We all have married men so complex, and we can do nothing but watch helplessly. That is what is so frustrating!’ cried Uruvi violently. ‘Vrushali, Karna’s worthiness and ability are not enough; they have to be accompanied by wise decisions too. He is the bravest, the most kind, the most wonderful man we know but perhaps he is making too many misjudgements and moral errors.’

‘Yes, he is, and I can’t ignore that any longer!’ Vrushali replied. ‘Living in false hope and illusory expectations is not optimism, Uruvi. It is living in denial. Perhaps I am no longer in love with the man Radheya is today…’ she trailed off unhappily.

But I still am, Uruvi thought with despair. And I can’t let go of him. She knew she loved him to distraction. Was he her weakness?

‘Oh, what would I do to bring back the old days at Champanagari where we first met and married!’ cried Vrushali in sudden frustration. ‘You rushed to Pukeya when you couldn’t handle the situation here, Uruvi. Why? Because, you wanted to go back to your roots to make sense of your life, to deal with the madness engulfing all of us. There comes a time when we need to make sense of our being, of what we are. You are lucky to have your Pukeya.’ The older woman was crying and she buried her face in her hands to muffle her sobs.

‘No, no dear! All is not lost! We have him, we love him and that is our greatest blessing!’ Uruvi tried to reassure the distressed woman, moved by the appeal in Vrushali’s cry. ‘That’s because he is a man who hungers for social respect. He is seeking his identity, which has been denied to him. He wants to be known as a worthy warrior!’

‘At what cost, Uruvi?’ she flashed fiercely. ‘He is sacrificing himself and his family to a selfish society that has not hesitated to remind him every now and then of his low birth and his inferiority. It kills me, it’s killing him and it will eventually destroy our entire family,’ Vrushali looked pointedly at the rocking cradle. ‘Save your child from this meaninglessness, Uruvi.’

‘Would it make any difference?’ Uruvi shrugged her shoulders. ‘In spite of having us, his children, and a family that loves him so unconditionally, Karna is so remote. I always thought a family was a refuge in a merciless world but does it hold true for Karna? He is always so alone, ever unfulfilled, constantly haunted by the unresolved ambiguity of his true self. Till he finds it, he will remain a restless soul, searching for his ultimate truth. But by then, it might be too late—for him, for all of us.’

‘It is too late for him, isn’t it, Uruvi?’ she asked gently. ‘You have not forgiven him for that one fault of his.’

Vrushali was forcing her to respond. Uruvi got up impatiently, as if to shake off her angry thoughts. ‘I can’t make myself forget that it was Karna who instigated the Kauravas to disrobe Draupadi in court,’ Uruvi’s voice trembled as her pain struggled with shame. ‘After the Pandavas lost everything—their kingdom, their own freedom, their queen in the game of dice, it was Karna who said she was nothing less than a whore. It was his words that prompted Dushasana to start pulling off her clothes. Until Karna uttered the unspeakable, no one in the Raj Sabha had dared to think of stripping Draupadi! It’s so horrible, Vrushali! As a woman, can’t you feel the pain and humiliation of Draupadi? And what I cannot accept is that it was our husband who did that to her!’

‘Yes, he spoke out of hurt and anger! But can’t you see his repentance, Uruvi?’ retorted Vrushali. ‘The shock of your flight broke him. He asked me to intercede for him, to implore you to return. I refused as I believe what’s between the two of you is too private. And so, he went to Pukeya to get you back. But you did not relent and he returned the very same day. Since then, he’s been occupied with Duryodhana and his military plans. His loneliness is intolerable to him, and like a driven man, he’s running away from home and all of us, to drown himself in his work and despair. He’s willing to promise you anything—hasn’t he abased himself enough, Uruvi? I have grown up with his faults and I love him in spite of those. I have forgiven him a thousand times over, because each time he changed. I learnt that loving is giving. And forgiving. I only hope that by the time you do it, it is not too late…for you and for him.’

One day, Sage Maitreya arrived at the court of King Dhritrashtra and stayed on for a few days at Hastinapur. Uruvi, as well as many other noble ladies, were summoned by the king to pay their respects to the eminent rishi.

‘Revered sir, I heard you met my dear nephews, the Pandavas, in the forest. Are they well? Will there be love and peace in our family again?’ King Dhritrashtra pleaded, yearning for the blessings of the great man.

‘Yes, I met Yudhishthira in the Kamakhya forest with the other sages who accompanied me,’ Sage Maitreya acknowledged with a brief nod. ‘I heard about the shameful episode in the Hastinapur Raj Sabha and I could not believe it was allowed to happen when you, Bhishma and Drona were present.’

The three stalwarts, Uruvi saw with undisguised satisfaction, had enough grace in them to hang their heads in shame as they had done in this very hall, months ago. She looked hard at Bhishma Pitamaha, her eyes gleaming viciously, but he averted his face.

Turning to Duryodhana, the sage said, ‘Answering your father’s question, I think the answer lies with you. For your own good, I advise you to make peace with the Pandavas. Feuds in the family are destructive. Moreover, not only are the Pandavas popular and strong, they have very strong allies in Krishna and King Drupad.’

Duryodhana reacted with more pompousness than expected. Clearly, Karna’s ongoing victorious digvijaya, his military campaigns, had given him a swollen head and he was revelling in their success. When he heard what the sage had to say, the Kuru prince burst into a loud, contemptuous laugh and slapping his thigh in disdain, shrugged the remark away rudely.

Uruvi heard a collective gasp of horror in the assembly. Duryodhana’s insolence was as monumental as his mistakes. The rishi then flew into a rage and stood up menacingly. ‘Your arrogance will bring you down one day. You slap your thigh in scorn but one day, the same thigh will be torn and broken on the battlefield and you will die a slow, agonizing death,’ he predicted, uttering his words like a curse. He turned to leave the court but was stopped by a visibly upset King Dhritrashtra.

‘I beg of you, please forgive my son. He is immature, he is ignorant! O revered sir, please take back your curse,’ he pleaded, falling at Sage Maitreya’s feet.

‘If your son decides to make peace with his cousins, my curse will not work. If he persists in his hostility, he will not escape his doom,’ he declared and strode out of the crowded Kuru hall. Bhanumati’s face was ashen, her eyes wide with dawning horror. She threw Uruvi a glance of desperation.

Many sages and brahmins visited the Pandavas and when they returned to Hastinapur, King Dhritrashtra made it a point to meet each one of them. All had one story to tell—of how the princes, born in pampered royalty, were enduring life in the wild jungles and facing several hardships. The old king seemed moved, but not his son. His face remained grave, but in his eyes there glinted a devilish delight. He loved listening to these anecdotes with perverse pleasure, enjoying a vicarious glee in hearing that the Pandavas were suffering and would do so for many long years.

One late morning, Uruvi learnt that Karna had been called in by Duryodhana to go to the Dwaitvana ranches with a huge Kaurava army. She was perplexed. ‘Why does one need an army to check the herds of cows, bulls and calves?’ she asked Bhanumati in rising bewilderment, when the younger woman had dropped by with her son, Lakshmana.