Karna's Wife (30 page)

‘I want to know if you mind me visiting Kunti,’ Uruvi began the topic with some unease, finding herself sounding slightly defensive.

‘No, she is like your mother and it’s but natural you would like to meet her.’

‘You’re sure it doesn’t trouble you?’ she asked, uncertain because she knew Karna was not saying what was actually in his mind.

‘What I am saying, dear, is that
I
don’t have any objection,’ he smiled.

‘But some others do?’ she persisted.

‘Frankly, what does it matter to me or to you if Queen Gandhari and Duryodhana aren’t too happy with the fact that you are close to Queen Kunti?’ he shrugged. ‘Go ahead, but come back before it gets dark!’ and with a quick hug, he pushed her out of the room.

Uruvi suddenly felt happy on her way to Vidura’s palace. She found herself smiling idiotically, and realized that what Karna thought of her meant a great deal to her. She yearned for his approval like parched earth for cool water.

Each time Uruvi went to see Kunti, she found her eagerly waiting for them, or rather, waiting for Vrishakethu, Uruvi corrected herself. She would rush forward to pick up the chubby child and hold him close to her for a long while. The boy always hugged her back, lisping her name in his endearing trill, which never ceased to delight the elderly queen. As she had once lavished love on little Uruvi, Kunti pampered Vrishakethu.

One afternoon she said wistfully, ‘He’s so enchantingly beautiful!’ her eyes moist and tender. ‘He’s just like Ka…,’ she broke off suddenly, coughing hard, and Uruvi hurried to get her a glass of water. ‘…he’s so much like Abhimanyu when he was a baby!’

‘You miss Abhimanyu awfully, don’t you?’ Uruvi asked gently, sensing the old queen’s sadness.

‘Life is full of compensations,’ she murmured, kissing Vrishakethu softly on his cheek. ‘At the moment, though, I am glad to have a grandchild playing on my lap!’

‘How is Abhimanyu?’

‘Subhadra and Abhimanyu are at Dwarka. Krishna did not want them to accompany Arjuna during the exile.’

‘Neither did you accompany them this time.’

‘Draupadi is there to look after them…’ she said vaguely. ‘And there needed to be someone here to remind the old king of the justice denied to my sons,’ Kunti’s eyes were hard. ‘Memory is selective and it’s so convenient to forget wrongs if there is no one to remind the perpetrator of them.’

‘And you and Uncle Vidura are seeing to that?’ Uruvi questioned her dryly. ‘And does it have any effect? The old king is so blinded with his own ambition that he seeks its fulfilment in his sons. Shakuni knows this and he plays his game skilfully with both the father and the sons. Karna resents him and firmly believes that Duryodhana wouldn’t have been so evil if it were not for that wicked uncle of his.’

‘That’s so true but unfortunately for the Kauravas, their uncle has been with them since they were born, seeing to it that their hatred remains deep and their political appetite whetted.’

‘Strange,’ frowned Uruvi. ‘It is as if the brother and sister came as a pair to Hastinapur and changed the very scenario of the place in their own different ways…’

‘Oh, let’s not get into all that…let me enjoy my grandson!’ said Kunti impatiently. Uruvi stood by watching, smiling at the growing fondness between the older woman and Vrishakethu.

‘He does look a lot like Karna, doesn’t he?’ the elderly queen asked a little tentatively.

‘Yes, without the kavach and kundals!’ Uruvi replied with a quick smile.

Kunti did not speak; she looked quite pale and her eyes widened in a confused expression. Uruvi thought she looked almost terrified.

‘Ma, what’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?’

‘Don’t ever speak so lightly of them, child,’ Kunti looked quite gaunt, the skin of her cheeks stretched taut across her face. ‘The kavach and kundals are a godly gift—they are a boon to your husband.’

‘How would
you
know?’ Uruvi asked curiously.

‘But isn’t it obvious, child?’ Kunti had regained her usual authoritative composure. ‘It would only be a fool who would not recognize their uniqueness.’

Uruvi flashed a quick smile. ‘Yes, I keep saying the same thing to Karna—that they are godly and he must be of celestial birth.’

‘Does he talk about his biological parents?’ Kunti asked hesitantly, with a strange eagerness in her voice.

‘Well, he doesn’t discuss this topic much—he cursorily mentioned it once. He does wonder who his mother is and why she abandoned him so easily,’ said Uruvi. ‘It is his kavach and kundals that make him believe he was born an aristocrat. But the fact that he was so carelessly cast in the river might well mean that he was an unwanted child of a distressed mother. Or he may be a child of a callous noblewoman who ruthlessly left him—and that hurts. It’s a paradox. He wants to know his identity, which he often suspects of being royal, yet he is disparaging about it. It’s his weakness, which anyone can exploit. Call it his failing, his limitation or his disadvantage, but he has suffered enough from it!’

Kunti interposed quietly. ‘I think that’s why he hates Draupadi—she exposed his weak point at her swayamwara and he could never forgive her for that!’

Uruvi was proud that she could remain unaffected at the mention of Draupadi’s name. ‘Karna loathes his true parents,’ she sighed. ‘He wants to have nothing to do with them! He doesn’t miss them emotionally because, fortunately, he has been blessed with the love of both Adhiratha and Radha, who adore him! In fact, the one person whom Karna loves most, with utter devotion, is his mother Radha. She is his lifeline. His brother Shona worships him and, of course, Vrushali is his biggest comfort, but the bond he has with his mother is special. Karna knows that though he was an abandoned child, he has received more than his share of love and respect from a family who love him unconditionally. So in that sense, I don’t think he misses his natural parents. He doesn’t need them.’

Uruvi noticed that Kunti was sitting stiffly, with her back straight. She was listening to Uruvi’s words with her hands clenched in her lap. ‘Go on, dear. I want to know more…’

‘He has no love for his natural parents but society will not allow him to forget his parentage,’ Uruvi continued, her delicate brows furrowed in a frown. ‘His dilemma is his identity, which he would love to forget about but cannot because no one will allow it. It keeps haunting him because of barbed insinuations from people and constant social criticism. He has to prove himself all the time because he is always asked about his lineage. That’s what eats into him; it’s not his ancestry but the way people see him. Frankly, he does not really care who his real parents are but he is not allowed to forget the fact that he doesn’t know where he came from. I have no respect for his natural parents. They deserted him and worse, left him at the mercy of a ruthless society. I loathe them!’ she spoke so venomously that Kunti blanched. ‘I am proud to be known as the wife of a worthy sutaputra rather than of some worthless prince!’

‘They must have had their reasons…’ Kunti mumbled.

‘That’s a justification for their selfishness. They were supposed to be responsible for the baby, not just think of themselves!’ Uruvi retorted scathingly. ‘When I hold my baby in my arms, I often wonder how Karna’s mother could have let him go! Oh, she must have been heartless!’

The older woman looked at the fuming girl, and a deep colour dyed her sallow skin. Her emaciated hands, lying on her lap, started to tremble a little. She thought of the words spoken with such vehement feeling.

‘Had it been not for his close family, Karna wouldn’t have been the fine person that he is now.
They
are his true parents, he insists, and he can never give them up. He is more fulfilled being called Radheya than Karna. What more can one say?’

As she spoke, Uruvi realized that Kunti had made no reply. It was as if she could find no words to voice her unspoken feelings. Uruvi saw that she was silent, as if she was struggling with an indescribable emotion. Kunti picked up Vrishakethu and hugging him close, buried her face in his soft curls.

Her friendship with Bhanumati was decidedly ambiguous, Uruvi told herself with a cheerless shake of her head, very different from the friendship their husbands shared. Just as this thought crossed her mind, Bhanumati suddenly appeared. The queen of Hastinapur looked agitated enough for Uruvi to usher her into the quiet privacy of her room. Uruvi did not need to ask what had happened for she burst out, ‘It’s Jayadrath! He has come home with his head shaved, with just five tufts of hair left on his head.’ Bhanumati was so distressed that she could hardly speak coherently.

And then the story slowly came out through Bhanumati’s tremulous lips. Jayadrath, the King of Sindhu, was Duryodhana’s brother-in-law and the husband of Dushala, the only sister of the hundred Kaurava princes. He had come across Draupadi in the Kamakhya forest and had tried to kidnap her but she was more than a match for him. As he grabbed her, she kicked him hard till he fell to the ground, then sat in his chariot and calmly ordered a quaking priest standing nearby to call her husbands over. They rushed to the spot immediately. When Bhima was told about Jayadrath’s evil intentions, his rage knew no bounds and he was about to leap on Jayadrath to kill him—but it was Draupadi who stopped him. She reasoned she did not wish Dushala to become a widow, especially when her husband would suffer such a pitiable death. Treat him like a slave instead, the Panchala princess insisted, so Bhima shaved off the hair of the king of Sindhu. ‘Here is that unworthy son of the unworthy father, the sinful Sage Vridhakshtra!’ announced Bhima, leaving five clumps of hair to remind Jayadrath of the Pandavas. Then Bhima set him free. His ignominious return had sparked an inferno among the Kaurava princes.

Another reason for the Kauravas to scream murder, Uruvi sighed inwardly. ‘Each time that damned woman is the reason for some bad news!’ Bhanumati snapped viciously. ‘First, it was her swayamwara, which was catastrophic enough! Karna lost his son Sudhama, besides being publicly insulted, of course! My husband was intending to start a war then and there but it was Karna who restrained him, yet again! Then, she made my husband stumble and fall in that wretched palace of hers, and had the cheek to call him the blind son of a blind father!’ she seethed. ‘Her disrobing at the court assembly was a result of her arrogance. What is it in that woman that brings out the worst in a man?’

‘How fair is it to blame Draupadi for every mess? Did she ask Jayadrath to abduct her?’ retorted Uruvi, but without malice. ‘Haven’t the Kauravas brought ruin upon themselves? Draupadi is the catalyst who will precipitate what the Kauravas have initiated. It’s a vicious spiral, which will destroy everything.’

‘Oh, don’t say such horrid things, Uruvi! It’s scary…’

‘But can’t you see it coming, dear? So why blame poor Draupadi? She is a victim of her own charms, her unusual beauty, which makes men desire her. Do you deny that Duryodhana and Jayadrath have lusted after her?’ And Karna as well, Uruvi thought bleakly. ‘And in her sensuous beauty, she attracts violence along the way. That’s her deadly appeal.’

‘That she lives with five men is bad enough…’

‘She is happily married to them!’ Uruvi corrected her sharply. ‘As a wife, she has accomplished the astonishing task of keeping all her five husbands happy—a fact Satyabhama, Krishna’s wife, is insanely jealous of as she prides herself as the perfect wife! Draupadi inspires her men; she holds them together. Otherwise, in sharing her, they would have been at each other’s throats. Did you know that after giving a son to each of her five husbands, she distanced herself from them to allow them to take other wives? She isn’t even jealous, except perhaps of Subhadra—Arjuna’s apparent favouritism infuriates her!’

Uruvi realized that she was talking a little too lightly about the famous hostility between the two wives of Arjuna—Draupadi and Subhadra—and she bit her tongue in quick regret. Another person who had been livid when Subhadra had eloped with Arjuna was Duryodhana, the suitor Balarama, Krishna’s older brother, had selected for his sister but whom she had rejected because she preferred his cousin. Balarama had wanted his favourite disciple, Duryodhana, to marry his sister, but Krishna favoured Arjuna as his future brother-in-law. As expected, Balarama’s Duryodhana lost to Krishna’s Arjuna. It was still a sore point with the Kaurava king. Bhanumati knew her husband nursed a soft corner for Subhadra, but she had taken it gracefully in her stride.

‘And here I can’t manage even one husband!’ scoffed Bhanumati with a brittle laugh. ‘But I guess you are right, Uruvi. Draupadi is more maligned than she deserves. She seems to bear the brunt and be the cause as well of all troubles!’

‘She is too spirited for everyone’s liking!’

‘Like you are, Uruvi?’ quizzed her friend with an affectionate look. ‘You know, you are quite like Draupadi yourself, so frank and forthright—is that why you like her so much? She doesn’t like you though…’ she added slyly. ‘I caught the look she gave you at the Rajasuya ceremony—it was really nasty! If looks could slay, you would have been dead a long time ago!’

Uruvi knew why Draupadi disliked her. Earlier it had amused her, but now, knowing exactly where she stood in the triangle of love, life and deceit, Uruvi dreaded Draupadi’s jealous dislike of her. Had Bhanumati seen Draupadi’s furtive glances at Karna as well? Bhanumati was pretty shrewd. Did she realize that Draupadi was in love with Karna? Uruvi knew why she defended Draupadi so strongly. As Bhanumati had mentioned, Draupadi was an inextricable part of their lives. The fact that she loved her husband no longer troubled Uruvi, but she felt an unreasonable guilt that she knew Draupadi’s worst secret. And the pressure of hiding it from everyone was testing.