Karna's Wife (31 page)

Uruvi realized that Bhanumati was awaiting her reply. She preferred to ignore Bhanumati’s jibe and continued easily, ‘More than a personal liking for her, I admire Draupadi,’ Uruvi smiled, but with an effort. ‘You find us similar? I couldn’t disagree more. If both of us are outspoken, it’s because of our circumstances, which are so strangely dissimilar. I am frank because I was encouraged by my father to be so—I was quite the pampered child! But Draupadi speaks her mind because conditions have forced her to be cruelly blunt. It is her only means of self-preservation. She is a born rebel, fighting and clawing for what she wants. I got almost everything I wanted readily on a platter. I was brought up as a princess and so was she. But she had to fight her way out, even with her parents. She was, in a way, unwanted as she came second to her brother. Her father had held a holy yagna to ask the gods to give him a son to avenge him and kill Guru Dronacharya. He was granted a son—Dhrishtadyumna—but he got a daughter too. She was Draupadi, who arose from the fire, but who was all fire and brimstone herself. She was born out of hate and revenge, of the hatred her father King Drupada harboured for his friend-turned-foe, Drona. Arjuna was Drona’s favourite disciple, but she became the consort of all the five Pandavas. But what have they given her? They made her their queen yet made her suffer the worst humiliation. She looks after their interests, but in return has got nothing but indignity and shame. Yet, she was forgiving enough to spare Jayadrath his life because of her compassion for Dushala, the sister of the man who was responsible for her disrobing at the Hastinapur Raj Sabha.’

Bhanumati had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘Uruvi, you know where and when to hit back! But sadly, Draupadi’s kind generosity has gone to waste! Jayadrath is seething in mortification and is planning revenge on the Pandavas right now with my husband at the palace. He swears revenge and is thirsting to kill the Pandavas.’

‘He should be happy he has been spared!’ Uruvi jeered. ‘But again, Yudhishthira and Draupadi have made a mistake by pardoning him. Bhima should have killed him but I am not surprised that, as usual, Yudhishthira intervened and made peace. That man is priceless! He treats Draupadi like a rag doll and a prized trophy rolled in one. He dared to stake her at the dice game and now, when a man attempts to molest her, he lets him go free!’ she said in anger at the wrong done to Draupadi. ‘Jayadrath will make a deadly enemy for the Pandavas now,’ Uruvi warned but realized she was telling the wrong person. ‘Ah, yes, everyone’s preparing for battle. Clearly, the Kauravas do not intend to return Indraprastha to the Pandavas, which is their lawful inheritance. They are bent on war.’

‘And so is Karna,’ intervened Bhanumati.

‘Karna will do whatever Duryodhana says,’ Uruvi said mockingly. ‘After all, Duryodhana is the ultimate king and Karna is just his employee!’

‘Sometimes I think I hate you too, as my family does!’ cried Bhanumati, annoyed. ‘You, too, have rubbed many people the wrong way—my father-in-law, for instance. I guess he only tolerates you because it was Karna whom you married and not Arjuna, which he sees as a winning card. Dushasana hates you, so does Shakuni. Both have warned me many times to stop meeting you. Why, even Queen Gandhari is a little wary of you and doesn’t mince her words about you!’

‘Yes, I have heard she doesn’t approve of me much—or the fact that I tend to wounded soldiers rather than queen it over others at home!’ Uruvi gave a short laugh. ‘Her Highness doesn’t consider it suitable that a kshatriya princess should work in the rehabilitation camps for the wounded. But then, I am but a lesser mortal, a sutaputra’s wife—so where does social snobbery come in? I am a lowly person mixing with the lowly soldiers. Anyway, her dislike of me goes a long way back…’

Uruvi shrugged her slender shoulders. ‘It seems that when I was a child, I had impudently asked her why she remains blindfolded when she ought to be helping out King Dhritrashtra. I didn’t know then that she wore the blindfold as a mark of silent protest to make Bhishma Pitamaha feel guilty for forcing her to marry a blind prince,’ she said. ‘But then there are some people like Kunti, who insists that this is all vile talk. Married to a blind man, the young Gandhari, Kunti maintains, decided that she would not enjoy the gift of sight denied to her husband and from then on kept a silk scarf tied around her eyes. Kunti considers her the devoted wife, but I see in her a masochistic person of such stubborn resolve that she deprived her husband of seeing the world through her eyes. Queen Gandhari refused to cooperate in every way and she made her displeasure at becoming his wife pretty clear. She was never the wise, comforting life partner for her blind husband. Neither has she looked after her children well. They were allowed to be brought up by her wicked brother who nursed them on hate and vengeance.’

Uruvi sighed briefly, ‘Anyway, she didn’t take my childish comments too kindly then. Though my argument still remains the same. The old king is physically blind, but she remains blind to the faults of her sons and refuses to perceive the enormity of what’s happening around her. Had she not allowed Shakuni to stay put in Hastinapur and poison Duryodhana’s ears, I wonder if the situation would have worsened between the cousins. Didn’t she ever realize her brother was evil? Doesn’t she see that her brother is thirsting for the destruction of the Kauravas as revenge for the raw deal he and his sister got?’

‘As you rightly said, she preferred turning a blind eye,’ Duryodhana’s wife agreed weakly. ‘Duryodhana just does not listen to anything she says. He respects her, yes, but is too impatient to hear her out.’

Uruvi looked at her friend and asked her if she knew her mother-in-law’s story.

‘Yes, my mother told me how she was married off to the blind prince because Bhishma Pitamaha wished it,’ concurred the daughter-in-law. ‘And she is still bitter about it. But she is more resentful about having no hold over her sons. When I see her, Uruvi, I stop feeling sorry for myself. She was forced to marry a blind prince but never really could be a wife nor the real queen. She could never enjoy queenhood as Queen Kunti did as the wife of King Pandu—for however short a while. I think she transferred that burning wish to be queen into becoming the queen mother, the mother of the oldest Kuru prince. But that, too, was not to be.’

Dragging herself to the present moment, Uruvi tried to gauge the enigma called Gandhari, the person whom Kunti loved so unconditionally. It must have been a nasty shock for Queen Gandhari when she discovered that she was beaten in the race to motherhood. Uruvi could well imagine the grim picture. From the wild stories she had heard about the Kuru queen, one of them was that the Gandhar princess had been so disappointed that Kunti gave birth to Yudhishthira first that, in her fury, she had tried to abort the foetus. It was only through the blessings of Sage Vyasa, who transformed the foetus into a hundred children, that she became the mother of the Kauravas. Another tale about the enigmatic mother of the Kauravas was her intense dislike for Yuyutsu, the illegitimate son of King Dhiritrashtra from a maid. What must her plight have been when she saw Yuyutsu, a handsome, healthy boy, unlike her still-born foetus? It was not unsurprising that Yuyutsu was on the Pandavas’ side rather than his own brothers, who never treated him well anyway. Queen Gandhari echoed similar sentiments possibly because she still smarted from her husband’s sexual misdemeanour. Uruvi supposed, but she did not voice her thoughts aloud.

‘Your mother-in-law proved to be too weak to stand up to the might of hatred, probably,’ Uruvi said, trying to be solicitous. ‘As a mother, she is a puzzle. She is as indifferent to her children as they are to her. They really don’t care for her or respect her opinions. She complains to you that she has no control over her sons, but it was she who allowed them to grow up wild, unrestrained and thoroughly spoilt, unlike the way the Pandavas were brought up almost single-handedly by Kunti. Can you imagine the Pandavas daring to go against Kunti? It’s because she is their world. But that’s not so with the Kauravas; their mother is not a figure of maternal kindness nor is she the guide, philosopher or the strict disciplinarian a mother should be. Did they heed her when she repeatedly pleaded with her sons to make peace with the Pandavas? She was ineffective. Just as she was unsuccessful in preventing the public shame Draupadi suffered in the royal assembly. She is largely responsible for the mess that exists today. Had she thrown out her brother, Shakuni, in the first place and reined in her sons Duryodhana and Dushasana, matters would not have been so grievous!’

Bhanumati sat silently as Uruvi analytically castigated her mother-in-law, but hearing the disparaging way she spoke of her husband, she could not restrain herself any longer. ‘According to you, the root of all evil and unhappiness is my husband!’ she snapped. ‘He is a great king, a good husband, a good father, a generous friend, and yes, he is a terrible foe—he hates the Pandavas because he doesn’t consider them his cousins anyway. Why do you hate him so much? Because he is so close to Karna? Believe me, Uruvi, Karna means everything to him. Karna is the person whom he loves without reservation, without any expectations. Karna is more precious to him than even Dushasana or any of his brothers and that says something for a man whom you consider selfish and calculating. Surprisingly, he doesn’t dislike you. He admires you and not just because you happen to be the wife of his dearest, most cherished friend. He insists you were the best thing that could have happened to him. And he means it. Just as I think that Karna is the best thing that has happened to my husband. But you evidently don’t agree. Why don’t you accept the fact that the two of them are such close friends that they would die for each other?’

‘I can’t speak for Duryodhana, but I do know that Karna will one day die for his friend,’ Uruvi replied quietly, her fists clenched. ‘And I am scared. I dread that day. I cannot accept the fact that I can’t change what’s going to happen. All I can do is to watch weakly—just as you will, Bhanumati. Duryodhana wouldn’t have been an emperor were it not for Karna and neither would Karna be a king, had it not been for Duryodhana. Their friendship will be their downfall, but I admit, it’s a bond that is strong and everlasting.’

While Karna was a warrior, Uruvi was a healer. The battlefield spelt two different connotations for them, two diverse worlds. For Karna, it was the sacred ground to fight for honour and truth; for Uruvi, it was a wasteland where the dead and wounded fell.

As Karna won more wars, subjugated kingdoms and forced kings to surrender, Uruvi practised the art of curing, of soothing the suffering of others. With Vrishakethu growing up into a strapping young boy who did not need constant care, Uruvi devoted more of her time to help those injured in war. It was her calling and she worked at it with passion. With battles erupting often in those days of strife, she found herself and her team of nurses working day and night in makeshift treatment centres and camps. Uruvi was pleased she had rediscovered her remarkable gift. And so were those she treated. She could alleviate pain by the simple touch of her cool, steady hands. She had the knack of talking tenderly to her patients, calming and comforting them, her voice as reassuring as her touch, which was gentle and kindly. Uruvi found that by treating these people she comforted them as well as herself.

Her ability to cure was almost magical. She helped a limping soldier to walk again, she restored the strength in the hands of an archer who had lost three fingers in a battle, among many other small miracles. Stories of her healing powers were making the rounds, much to the apprehension of the royal household. Her severest critics were Dushasana and his mother, Queen Gandhari. Closer home, Shona showed his disapproval in no uncertain terms.

‘I am just doing my work, which is something I love to do,’ she said quietly when a visibly infuriated Shona confronted her.

‘I don’t want to argue with you, but what you are doing does not suit, firstly, a kshatriya princess and secondly, a warrior’s wife,’ Shona retorted curtly. ‘I know I won’t make you see sense, but frankly, you are embarrassing Radheya. I hate to see him squirm each time the topic is brought up. No one is impressed with your social work; it’s ridiculed by all!’

‘I agree with you on one point—you can’t make me see sense because for you and your ilk, war makes sense. For me, it doesn’t. I am just trying to make amends in my small way, that’s all,’ she said flatly, and not willing to face any more animosity from him, she got up to leave.

‘No, wait!’ Shona’s voice cut her short sharply. ‘I have never interfered with your life, Uruvi. I have no right to. But neither have I approved of you and what you stand for. Radheya has indulged you too much. I didn’t like it when Radheya married you, not because you were a kshatriya but because you are an outsider. You are not one of us. You have proved it all along. When Radheya needed you most after the Raj Sabha fiasco, you ran away to Pukeya to lick your wounds. It was Vrushali who helped him through. Radheya hides it from us, his family, but all of us know that you didn’t forgive him for a long, long time for his behaviour at the Raj Sabha. And what a price he had to pay! How can you be so heartless? Though a kshatriya princess yourself, you have never approved of his victorious campaigns. While the world is hailing him as the mightiest warrior in the kingdom, you show your disapproval by going to the very camps where the battles have been fought to look after the injured. Were you there by his side when Radheya was leading the Kaurava army throughout Aryavarta? Were you aware of the strategies and the coups he devised to conquer these kingdoms? Do you realize how brave and great Radheya is as a warrior and army general? Have you ever been worried about him and the danger to his life? He could have died many times over but each time you were more worried about yourself than the safety of your husband!’