Karna's Wife (40 page)

The war was preordained, born out of hatred and fated to wreak unimaginable tragedy. The two sides of the warring cousins summoned vast armies and lined up at Kurukshetra for the battle that was to plunge everyone into endless sorrow. The kingdoms of Dwarka, Kasi, Magadha, Matsya, Chedi, Pandya, Yadus and Kamboja allied with the Pandavas. The allies of the Kauravas were in larger numbers—besides, of course, Anga, the kings of Pragjyotisha, Kekaya, Sindhudesa, Mahishmati, Madra and Avanti in Madhyadesa joined the Kauravas, while the Kambojas, Gandharas, Bahlikas, Yavanas, Sakas and Tusharas also backed them. The army of the Kauravas was imposing with eleven divisions called Akshouhinis, while the Pandavas were severely outnumbered with a mere seven. One Akshouhini comprised 21,870 chariots with their riders, the same number of elephants and their riders, with 65,610 horses and horsemen and a staggering 1,09,350 foot soldiers. Each Akshouhini was under a general, and all of them under a commander-in-chief—Dhrishtadyumna of the Pandava army and Bhishma Pitamaha of the Kauravas. The mere sight of four million soldiers facing each other on the battlefield at Kurukshetra struck terror in the people of the Kuru kingdom who waited fearfully for the war to begin.

On the first day of the Kurukshetra war, Dushasana led the Kaurava army and Bhima the Pandava side. The bugle signalling the beginning of the battle ripped the air with its terrible finality. Against the clamour of rumbling trumpets and reverberating conches, the horses neighed and the elephants trumpeted impatiently, eagerly waiting for the war to begin its deathly carnage.

Death bared its fangs as never before, stinging each family and soldier with its venom. Thousands were butchered that day and in the next seventeen horrifying days. Strangers killed strangers, brothers slaughtered brothers, cousins murdered cousins, uncles killed nephews and nephews massacred uncles. The learned gurus and the shishyas—the teachers and the pupils—learnt bloody lessons of murder and mayhem. The skies were torn with the wails of mothers, daughters, sisters, wives and orphans. Prowling jackals and watchful vultures ripped apart the slain soldiers and dead animals.

On the very first day came a terrible blow. It was the death of Shona—at the hands of Nakul. Radha was almost out of her mind with grief. Seeing her plight, Uruvi wondered how Radha, Vrushali and herself would be able to bear the news of Karna’s death one day.

Karna was inconsolable, ridden with guilt, and reproached himself bitterly for being the cause of his younger brother’s death. ‘If it were not for me, he would not have been fighting a war—he would be safe, leading the life of a charioteer.’

‘Even if he were a charioteer, he would have gone to war. He died a hero’s death!’ Uruvi said gently, trying to console him. Karna, in deep and bitter reflection, buried his face in his hands, in hopeless surrender.

‘How much more are we to suffer?’ he sighed in a hoarse whisper, hot tears trickling steadily down his weary face.

Each day brought worse tragedies. The death of the gentle Vikarna made even the Pandavas sad. Bhima was said to have wept uninhibitedly, moments before he killed his favourite cousin. ‘I can never forgive myself!’ he cried in mixed pain and bitterness.

On the tenth day of the war, the unthinkable happened. The mighty, invincible Bhishma Pitamaha was felled by an arrow from his great-grandnephew, Arjuna. Everyone on the battlefield stood shocked, not believing that the man who had been blessed with the boon to choose the time of his death could not escape a mortal’s fate.

As the grand sire had promised, he did not hurt either the Kauravas or the Pandavas. Duryodhana had often accused the old man of being biased, berating him for not actually fighting for the Kauravas after all. ‘But he was the strongest barrier protecting the Kaurava army from impending defeat,’ said a crestfallen Karna, recounting to Uruvi what had occurred the previous night.

The war was stuck in a stalemate with both the sides suffering equal losses. The tenth day was a threshold—it was a do or die moment and the grand sire took it upon himself to force a decisive battle. ‘I shall fight like a lion, and this time, either I will kill Arjuna or I will make Krishna break his promise not to wield any weapons himself during the war,’ he promised Duryodhana, with Karna silently witnessing every word of that vow.

That day, there was a fierce battle between Bhishma and Arjuna. Although Arjuna was formidable, he was helpless under the frenzied attack of his grand sire. Bhishma Pitamaha viciously shot arrows which smashed Arjuna’s armour and broke his Gandiva bow. Arjuna was simply powerless before the wrath of the old veteran.

‘As Bhishma Pitamaha was dangerously close to killing Arjuna with his deluge of arrows, Krishna threw down the reins of his chariot and jumped onto the battlefield. He lifted a chariot wheel and charged towards Bhishma Pitamaha, breaking his promise that he would not pick up a weapon in this war,’ recounted Karna, his voice toneless. ‘Arjuna finally managed to convince Lord Krishna to stop, but he explained that to protect his protégé, he would readily break his own promise. Krishna returned to the chariot only when Arjuna vowed to redouble his determination and effort in the fight.’

Uruvi listened in horror as Karna continued. ‘Knowing that the grand sire was vulnerable only against a woman, Krishna, on the tenth day of battle, brought in Shikhandi, Draupadi’s transvestite brother, as Arjuna’s charioteer,’ he said. ‘Lord Krishna knew that the patriarch, if faced by a woman in battle, would cease to fight and not lift weapons against her. And the Pandavas agreed to this ploy to vanquish the grand sire. Using Shikhandi as his armour, Arjuna shot a slew of arrows at Bhishma Pitamaha, piercing his entire body, and finally, the grand sire gave up the fight.’

‘But that’s unfair!’ cried Uruvi, aghast at the treachery of the Pandavas. ‘I thought the Pandavas were upright warriors!’

Then she recalled the plethora of unfair means that had been shamelessly used before the war. The feud of the cousins, the burning of the lac palace to murder the Pandavas and Kunti, the unfair division of the kingdom, the rigged game of dice, the shaming of Draupadi in the royal court, the exile, the deceitful way Karna was shorn of his kavach and kundals, the last desperate attempts by both Lord Krishna and Kunti to sway Karna against Duryodhana, and the vilest of all, revealing the terrible truth of his birth to Karna, thus stripping him of his last vestige of dignity. ‘Why are we talking about morals and fairness?’ she asked defeatedly. ‘This war is, in itself, an unethical one.’

Bhishma Pitamaha lay in the bloodied battlefield, his entire body held above the ground by a bed of arrows. It was a sight that humbled even the gods who watched from the heavens, revering and blessing the dying warrior, who had given up the fight but not his last breath, waiting for the auspicious moment to give up his body.

Uruvi was invaded by another emotion. Mingled with her sorrow over the old patriarch’s fall was the fear that his death would mean the end of Karna. He had promised her that he would save Karna until the last moment of his life, and by forbidding him to enter the battlefield, the grand sire had done his utmost to protect his great-grandnephew. Now, with the fall of the powerful Bhishma Pitamaha, the protective shield had vanished and Karna was vulnerable again. If Karna stepped onto the battlefield, it meant certain death for him, Uruvi realized with a heavy heart. From that hour onwards, Karna would be living on borrowed time.

The fall of Bhishma Pitamaha spelt the Kauravas’ nemesis and for the first time, Karna joined their army in the battlefield. He announced his intention on that day, ‘The grand sire, who possesses all the qualities of a good man and a great warrior—intelligence, prowess, honesty, self-restraint, humility and modesty—is now lying on a bed of arrows in the battlefield. Without his leadership, what is the use of so many Akshouhinis in the army? With the fall of Bhishma, Duryodhana has lost everything!’ cried Karna. ‘The fall of Bhishma Pitamaha occurred even while all of you were on the battlefield. He fell with a mighty crash, like a mountain would. But do not worry. I will save you and your forces. I shall attack Arjuna. I will vanquish the Pandavas and the entire Pandava forces, and ensure that Duryodhana is crowned as king. If I fail to do so, I will meet Bhishma Pitamaha in heaven. This is my promise,’ announced Karna.

While his words relieved Duryodhana, Uruvi despaired at the finality of her husband’s words. That evening, Karna told his worried wife, ‘I need to meet Bhishma Pitamaha and beg for his forgiveness. With his blessings, I shall take part in the war from this day onwards.’ He left her in the camp, where she tended to the wounded soldiers, some dying, many screaming in agony.

Hours later, she saw an inconsolable Karna returning to the tent. Only a sliver of the sun’s ray pierced the purple darkness as another dawn was about to break. Karna’s golden sunset eyes had darkened with trouble and anxiety, pain and bitterness. He stood tall, but no longer proud. His broad shoulders were slouched in a defeated droop. He looked utterly crushed.

‘He, too, knew who I am,’ Karna said, looking sadly at her. ‘He blessed me as Kunti’s son. He hoped that with his passing, the enmity between the cousins would end and that I would return to my Pandava family…oh, Uruvi, how much more do I have to suffer?’ Karna sighed in bleak hopelessness. ‘I told him that though I know that I am Kunti’s son and not a sutaputra, I could not turn my back on Duryodhana. I had to be true to him and his friendship, to my own lineage and to my convictions. I would repay with my life for all my mistakes in word and deed.’

Uruvi touched Karna’s hand soothingly. He continued, ‘Bhishma Pitamaha looked infinitely sad but blessed me with these words: “O Karna! With your support and help alone is Duryodhana safe. You are considered his brother, but friendship is greater and deeper than any relationship by birth. You bear the entire burden of this Kuru dynasty. There is no difference between Duryodhana and yourself. You both are equal to me. Command the Kaurava forces and achieve victory! You are as dear to me as Arjuna and Duryodhana. In fact, you are dearer, as great injustice had been meted out to you. Don’t ask for forgiveness from me—I ask for your forgiveness, child.” Hearing those words from the grand old man, Uruvi, I died a thousand deaths! I have never felt happier, more pained, more ashamed! I was happy that he loved me and respected me as a warrior, but the pain was because it came so late…everything’s too late now! Can even death release me from this misery?’ he said hoarsely, grief etched on his face. ‘And is this the same misery I shall bequeath to you and our son?’

He looked fixedly at her for a long, indeterminate moment, his glance searing through her soul, staring past her. Strong emotions crossed his face as he smiled sadly and walked away.

On the eleventh day, Karna entered the battlefield, but not as the commander-in-chief. He requested Duryodhana to choose Guru Dronacharya as the new chief to command the Kaurava army. Though reluctant, Duryodhana did not disagree with his friend. The focus of the Kaurava attack was now to capture Yudhishthira alive, so that they could win the war as early as possible. But with Arjuna fiercely protecting his older brother, this seemed too ambitious a strategy, as several unsuccessful attempts proved.

The twelfth day saw the beginning of doom. The placid, mild-mannered Lakshmana, the only son of Duryodhana, was killed by Abhimanyu. Uruvi recalled the honourable, honest prince, loved dearly by everyone. She remembered how each day the young prince, the unlikely son of a father like Duryodhana, would meet the people of Hastinapur and try to alleviate the suffering of the needy. He was more of a saint than a prince but destined to die the death of a brave warrior.

Bhanumati was numb with shock and Duryodhana was devastated. ‘I shall give the Pandavas half of the kingdom now,’ he wept, as he knelt near the motionless body of his young son. ‘I did not want this gentle boy of mine to fight the war because, like you, Uruvi, he hated war and bloodshed. I did not want him to die—he was the heir to my throne! He was the only young survivor of the Kaurava family. Uruvi, remember how he, Bhanumati and you had begged me not to allow Krishna return empty-handed from the Hastinapur court when he had come to mediate between us and the Pandavas? Lakshmana had implored that we give the Pandavas at least two villages, but I did not listen to him or Bhanumati. Oh, now I would give them the kingdom if it could bring my boy back!’ he cried heartbrokenly.

It was the love of a father in all its poignancy that spoke, but Uruvi wondered if Duryodhana really had any desire to stop the war and give away the kingdom. However, she conceded, in his time of grief he had at least owned up to his responsibility for waging the senseless war.

The Kauravas mourned the death of the young prince and vowed revenge on young Abhimanyu, clamouring for the killer’s blood. But the brutality with which Arjuna and Subhadra’s sixteen-year-old son was butchered shocked everyone. A new strategy was opted for on the thirteenth day. To distract Arjuna and get him away from Yudhishthira, who was to be captured alive, Guru Dronacharya and Duryodhana made the Samsaptakas’ division, consisting of warriors from the kingdom of Trigarta, attack Arjuna fiercely, pushing him away from the main front. Meanwhile, the full Kaurava army concentrated on capturing Yudhishthira by rearranging the army in the chakravyuh pattern, a defensive formation in the shape of a lotus. The teenaged Abhimanyu was called for help as he was the only one who knew how to penetrate the labyrinth of the chakravyuh besides great warriors like Krishna, Arjuna, Karna, Balarama and Pradyumna, Krishna’s son. Abhimanyu had dared to enter the chakravyuh at Yudhishthira’s request, but he could not retreat and got stuck in the midst of a pack of bloodthirsty fighters.

Jayadrath, the King of Sindhu and the husband of the only Kaurava princess, Dushala, had cleverly cut off Abhimanyu’s backup assistance from Yudhishthira and his army by surrounding them at the entry point of the chakravyuh. Surrounded by six fearsome warriors—Guru Dronacharya, Kripacharya, Karna, Ashwatthama, the veteran Brihatbala and Kritvarma, the Bhoja king and cousin of Krishna—the young lad died fighting, sacrificing his life as he tried to protect the life of his uncle, Yudhishthira.