Karna's Wife (45 page)

The pain was familiar; she was acquainted with the self-flagellation, the self-castigation. It was guilt that was tearing Arjuna apart. She recognised the torment in his eyes and desperately wanted to end his suffering. ‘But Arjuna, what Lord Krishna says is true. Karna was betrayed by other people, all of whom were responsible for his death, not just you!’ she said softly. ‘It happened six times. First, at his very birth, his mother disowned him, keeping her honour above the self-respect of her first-born child. As a young, unwed mother, she cast him into the river, forsaking him and leaving him to a certain death. Karna was killed the day he was born. And he died each time his mother refused to acknowledge him.’

Draupadi gasped at Uruvi’s brutal forthrightness, but for a moment, a gleam of triumph flashed in her eyes. Uruvi had uttered the words that she had wanted to fling at her mother-in-law ages ago, time and again.

‘Please stop, Uruvi, don’t punish me any more! How can you demean me in front of my sons now?’ cried the queen mother of Hastinapur, raising a protesting arm as if to ward off the hurtful truth.

‘I am not condemning you,’ Uruvi shook her head. ‘Can’t you see your sons suffering? Is your honour more important to you even now that your sons have to suffer a senseless guilt that is killing them slowly?’

‘Yes! I am being made to suffer for that single mistake of my life. I am asking for your forgiveness, but forgiving oneself is probably the most difficult task—and I haven’t pardoned myself for that one fault of mine. But when can it be made right? I have already lost one son!’ she sobbed.

‘So has Bhanumati. And Radha lost both her sons. Draupadi’s five sons were killed in this war and Vrushali lost seven,’ she said impassively. ‘Each one of us has lost someone most dear to us. That is exactly what I am trying to explain to Arjuna,’ Uruvi said quietly. ‘Arjuna, you need not suffer from needless guilt. Karna was destined for that death. The three curses of the angry brahmin, the earth goddess and, most importantly, Guru Parshurama’s curse that Karna would forget the incantation of the Brahmastra when he needed it most, would be the second reason. The third time was when your father, Lord Indra, used deceit to rob Karna of the kavach and kundals. Again, for the fourth time, your mother was responsible for my husband’s death when she revealed the truth of his birth at the time that suited her—just before the war. She crippled him with that truth, knowing that he would not raise a finger against his blood brothers. Moreover, she extracted a promise from him that he would not kill any of your brothers, except you! Likewise, that he would use a divine weapon only once against you!’

Arjuna recoiled, recalling how he had escaped Karna’s fatal Bhargavastra and the Nag astra. Bhima gave a cry of pain and turned to Yudhishthira in despair, ‘That is why he told us to go away. And I taunted him with my outrageous words! What terrible truth is this that we do not have the strength to face it?’

‘That is a truth we were denied so long but have to live with even longer!’ said Uruvi. ‘The fifth time was when King Salya did not help him when the wheel of his chariot got stuck. And lastly, when all of this failed to kill my brave, hapless husband, it is Krishna himself who conspired to make sure Karna was killed. You, Arjuna, have killed a man already killed six times before by his own people!’

Uruvi halted briefly, filling the silence with her impassioned words, but her eyes were soft and melting, clouded by a deep sadness.

Krishna, his face solemn, nodded his head in quiet agreement. ‘Yes, Uruvi, I admit I made Arjuna kill Karna. But that was only because Karna, though the best of men, was helping the wrong side. And he was the sole danger to Arjuna. I regarded the mighty Karna not as Arjuna’s equal but far superior to him. And that is why Karna needed to be killed with the greatest resolve. In energy, Karna was equal to Agni, the god of fire. He had the impetuosity of the wind, the speed of a shooting arrow. In anger, he could be the destroyer himself and anyone who turned against Duryodhana earned his ire. He was as brave as a lion, he was a hero! Not even the gods could have killed him! He had to be killed by treachery.’

Uruvi’s voice was gentle, almost kindly, as she spoke to Arjuna. ‘Don’t grieve for what you did, Arjuna. You are a warrior and Karna was your enemy. He had to be killed. If not him, it would have been you who would have died. And that would have been terrible too! Karna decided to accept his destiny, never losing his immense pride. His strength of inner conviction came from his self-belief. Despite what Krishna warned him about, he did not bend. In fact, Lord Krishna, he was one person who never succumbed to your appealing charm!’ Uruvi said with a slight smile.

It was the first time she had smiled since the death of Karna and Uruvi found herself a little surprised. She felt the last of her bitterness dissolving; it was almost like physical pain ebbing away. She felt relaxed suddenly, a certain soft light glowing within her. It was the radiance of forgiveness, of hopefulness.

She walked up to Yudhishthira and folded her hands, ‘Please don’t take me away from my duties. I am needed here. It is not that my refusal stems from anger or hurt or spite,’ she said evenly. ‘My place is here—with Radha, with Vrushali, and with the sick and the maimed. I can’t think of going anywhere else! They need me.’

‘Uruvi, you are needed at the palace,’ said Yudhishthira with slow deliberation. ‘Karna, as the eldest Pandava, was the rightful King of Hastinapur and as his wife, you need to be there. And Vrishakethu, as the son of Karna, is the heir apparent to the kingdom. He will wear the crown. And that is why you have to come with us. We want you to be with us. Please.’

Uruvi took each word uttered by Yudhishthira calmly. Krishna added, ‘Don’t say no, Uruvi. The Pandavas and Vrishakethu are the new hope for the people now. Hastinapur today resembles a city of the dead. We need to rebuild it, bring hope into our lives again. The end is the new beginning. And Vrishkethu and you are part of this new life.’

‘Vrishakethu probably, not me,’ she said with a slight shake of her head. ‘I do not want to involve myself with any kingdoms and politics. I have refused to return to Pukeya too, even though my father was very insistent! I am too tired of it all—I would rather devote myself to what I always did—trying to heal people. That is my way of healing myself.’

‘And Vrishkethu?’ asked Arjuna and Uruvi heard the genuine concern in his voice. ‘He is the son of the finest archer and the greatest of warriors, don’t forget that, Uruvi. He needs to be properly trained. Until now, he was under Karna’s tutelage and I hear he has all the makings of a great fighter. I would like to mentor him from now on. Please let me take him under my care. Krishna and I shall make him as fine a warrior as his father was. He will be my second Abhimanyu,’ he said simply, his voice heavy with emotion.

Yes, Uruvi thought, it would be a new beginning…Arjuna was pinning all his aspirations and ambitions on her son. She knew that it was a tremendous gift for Vrishakethu to be trained by none other than Lord Krishna! She felt a wrench at the thought of parting with her son—he was her lifeline now. But she recalled the discussion she had had once with Karna, about how he regretted that he could never be Krishna’s disciple. His son today had the good fortune Karna had been deprived of. But did she want her son to go through war and fighting and bloodshed? She did not, but for Karna’s sake, Uruvi forced herself to be pleased about Arjuna’s offer. He would have wanted his son to be under Krishna’s care. He could not have asked for more. Picturing Karna’s face glowing with pride and pleasure in her mind’s eye, Uruvi found her resistance melting away.

She smiled again; it made her feel lighter. ‘I agree with Arjuna that Vrishakethu needs proper guidance and patronage—and who could be better than you and Lord Krishna?’ Uruvi assured them with a smile. ‘Yes, I am gratified.’

She saw the quick look of relief flash between Arjuna and Krishna. Kunti looked pleased.

‘But I cannot accept Yudhishthira’s offer,’ she continued. ‘Vrishkethu cannot be king. Neither will he be the heir apparent of the Hastinapur throne. You have been blessed with a grandson—Parikshit, Abhimanyu’s son, and only he is entitled to the crown.’

‘How can you say that?’ Arjuna demanded. ‘Vrishakethu is the older grandchild. And more importantly, he is the son of Karna, the eldest Pandava, making him the rightful heir!’

Uruvi shook her head decisively. ‘No! I cannot accept this reasoning. It’s the same story being rerun. I don’t want history being replayed! We are paying the price for what happened three generations ago—and I couldn’t bear a repeat of the same mistakes. There will be no future tussle and bloodshed for power! I want peace, not even the tiniest hint of a potential war!’

‘You are overreacting, Uruvi! You are depriving your son of his royal rights over an irrational fear!’ reasoned Arjuna, then added more kindly, ‘Parikshit is just a new-born baby—how can you plan for him now when you are not making a proper decision for your teenaged son? History will not repeat itself. I will take care of your son, Uruvi, I promise!’

‘I know you will. And I am sure so will all of you—and that’s what I am so apprehensive about! In your misplaced affection for your nephew, Arjuna, you just might neglect your grandson. I won’t let that happen! If not Hastinapur, some day my son shall be King of Pukeya—I am not depriving him of that! But I repeat, I shall send Vrishakethu to you only on the one condition—that he will never be made king,’ she said resolutely, her words steeled with a firm finality that Kunti knew no one in the room could combat. Not even Krishna, who was unusually quiet throughout the conversation.

‘So be it, Uruvi,’ he interposed quietly. ‘Vrishakethu will not be the heir apparent. But we shall take him under our wing and do the best we can for him.’

Kunti looked at her nephew in surprise; Krishna must be as disappointed as they all were right now but he did not show it. She looked at him narrowly, almost certain that he had some other plans. But Uruvi was not taken in by his quick acquiescence either.

‘No, Lord Krishna. I want a promise. And I want it to be kept.’

‘Dear, you just said you don’t want history to repeat itself and here you are starting on a new series of promises and conditions!’ he smiled. ‘I assure you, I shall comply wholly with your wishes. We shall leave now,’ he said. ‘But remember, dear, the more you want to go the other way, the path that you were destined for is the one you will have to follow.’

He was as charmingly cryptic as always, Uruvi acknowledged with a small smile.

As they were leaving, Uruvi noticed Draupadi lagging behind. She came close to Uruvi and said simply, ‘Thank you.’

But in those two words was a wealth of emotion. What was Draupadi thanking her for? To have kept her secret intact? Or was it because Uruvi had given her Karna’s son to look after? Or because Arjuna had left this place a happier man? Draupadi pressed her hand with gentle fingers and Uruvi returned the gesture, feeling the sorrow flow through both of them. They had loved the same man; both had lost him forever and now they would be mothers to his son.

Uruvi watched the cavalcade of the Pandava chariots leaving her home. She stood motionless, feeling bereft. This was the same place on the balcony where she used to stand, watching Karna leave each morning. The same place where she stood waiting for him to return every evening, hearing his chariot coming down the path. She felt dry tears gathering behind her eyes and her throat tightening.

Suddenly, she heard a movement behind her. She swung around, the anguish naked in her eyes. In front of her stood Kunti.

‘When will you stop hating me, my dear?’

Kunti stretched out her arms and Uruvi did not hesitate any more. She rushed into them, burrowing her face deep into her foster mother’s shoulder, trying to wipe away the hot wave of sorrow and shame that overwhelmed her. She raised her head and looked mistily at Kunti, who had held her warmly so often but whom she had confronted so angrily and hated for such a long time.

The barrage of tears burst at last. Uruvi felt the wetness of tears soaking her skin, her soul. Kunti gathered her in her arms and Uruvi collapsed in her lap, sobbing unrestrainedly, weeping her anguish out, grieving for all she had lost.

She inhaled the familiar fragrance of Kunti’s warm body and felt consoled, comforted. She knew now what it was to forgive. It was leaving hell and touching heaven. It was divinity.

Even though Uruvi kept her promise to Karna to look after Vrushali and found the inner strength to give her solace, Vrushali, in a final fit of despair, killed herself, unable to bear the grief of the death of Karna and her brave sons. After the death of Radha and Adhiratha, Uruvi decided to go back to her childhood home. In Pukeya, she looked after her old parents and continued tending to the sick and the wounded.

Under the patronage of the Pandavas, her son Vrishakethu became a great warrior like his father Karna, filling Uruvi with pride. Bowing down to his mother’s wishes, Vrishakethu refused to accept the crown of Hastinapur, content with being the King of Pukeya after his grandfather’s death. King Yudhishthira ruled Hastinapur for thirty years and then handed the throne to Parikshit, the grandson of Arjuna.

Vrishakethu often accompanied his uncle Arjuna in battles, including the military campaign that preceded the Ashvamedha yagna, the sacrifice Arjuna held to mark his victories as a king. In this sacrifice, a horse was let loose and the territories it wandered into then came under the rule of the king, to mark him as a conqueror. Vrishakethu fought bravely in the battle against Babruvahana, the Naga son of Arjuna. During that campaign, Vrishakethu, with his uncle Bhima, fought King Yavantha, who ruled a kingdom to the west, and the young King of Pukeya won King Yavantha’s daughter as his bride.

It is believed that Arjuna developed a strong, unflagging affection for Vrishakethu and taught him skills with the bow and arrow that made his nephew the most formidable archer in the country. Vrishakethu’s other teacher was Krishna, just as Karna would have wished.