THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (64 page)

There is no elation or dejection in either camp. The honors of the day have been shared almost equally, even if the Kauravas have perhaps had the slight edge, because of Karna. After Drona’s frantic command, the war has been restored to an even tenor. With Karna, the Kaurava soldiers feel as if Bheeshma led them again and the Pandava legions are relieved as well.

THREE
THE LUCID NIGHT 

Duryodhana has not had the satisfaction of seeing Karna kill Arjuna. He had seen how Karna had Nakula at his mercy and spared the Pandava’s life: he says nothing about these to his friend. Bheeshma and Drona he would have accused of being partial to the Pandavas, but he can never utter a harsh word to Karna. Moreover, the Kaurava is convinced Karna is as disappointed as he is that Arjuna remains alive.

After the day’s battle, just when they are about to retire to their tents for the evening ablutions, Karna takes his king’s hand and says, “Arjuna fights magnificently, but tomorrow I will kill him.”

Duryodhana embraces his Senapati. “You will, Karna, I know you will.”

Late that night, Karna comes alone to Duryodhana’s tent. Complete certainty is upon him that this will be his last night in the world. He is calm and as always, they plan the next day’s strategy together. Then, Karna leans forward and says in his intense way, “There is only one way this war can be won. Tomorrow, my friend, I will either kill Arjuna, or die in the attempt. Duryodhana, tomorrow the world will see, once and forever, who its best archer is.

Both he and I have astras we can summon, of the four kinds. He has the Gandiva, renowned in the corners of the world; but my Vijaya, which Bhargava gave me, is the greater weapon. What few men know is that Viswakarman once made the Vijaya for Indra and the king of the Devas gave my master the bow. My prince, tomorrow, with Arjuna dead, the world will lie at your feet.”

He pauses, frowning. Duryodhana says, “Something disturbs you, Karna?”

“Yes. One must not underestimate one’s adversary. Arjuna’s silver quivers are magical, inexhaustible. His chariot is unearthly and his horses are gandharva steeds. He has Hanuman’s blessing. Have you observed his banner? Hanuman emblazoned on it is alive: I have seen his eyes watch the war, I have heard him roar! And then, of course, there is the most telling advantage Arjuna has, the one without which he would have long since been dead: Krishna is his sarathy. You have seen him drive those horses, Duryodhana. He is like the mind, quicker. Every time our arrows fly straight for Arjuna’s throat or his heart, suddenly we find him gone from where he was a moment ago. Krishna has spirited him away.

I have no sarathy to match Krishna. All else being equal, even if I am the better archer, how can I kill the Pandava when the Dark One guides his horses?”

Duryodhana asks, “Is there no one in our army who can match Krishna as a sarathy?”

“There is one man. But will he agree to be a sutaputra’s charioteer?”

“Who is he, Karna?”

Karna says, “Shalya. He is twice the sarathy Krishna is. Shalya is to charioteers what Karna is among archers! Krishna knows the aswahridaya, but Shalya is a master of the arcane art. If Shalya will drive my horses tomorrow, Arjuna will not escape with his life. But Shalya is a king and proud; it will not be easy to persuade him. Yet, there is no one on earth like Duryodhana to persuade any man. The very war may depend on it.”

Duryodhana says, “He won’t refuse me, Karna! Shalya shall drive your horses. Now go and sleep, you must be fresh for tomorrow. It will be your great day and the world will know that not Arjuna but peerless Karna is its finest bowman: and that he won the war for Duryodhana. What could be more fitting? Only so you could win the world for me, Bheeshma has fallen and Drona has died!”

Tears in their eyes, they embrace again. Karna lingers on in Duryodhana’s tent. How many nights they have spent talking and drinking into the small hours: baring their souls to each other. Tonight, Karna knows, will be the last one. For a while he stays on, chatting of this and that, of the times they have shared. Then, reluctantly, he rises to go. He walks to the tent-flap and turns back to clasp Dury-odhana again. They hold each other for a long moment, before Karna breaks away and strides out into the darkness.

Visions of the past fill the night for Karna, alone in his tent. He sees his life vividly before his eyes; and he has no doubt that tomorrow he will die. He sees his mother Radha, his tender years with her. He lies quietly in the dark and allows himself to be borne away on the crystal tide of memories. At last, those memories have no power to hurt him. He is a serene witness to his own past: almost as if he watched another man’s life being played out before his eyes.

Then, the anxiety of what he has sworn to do snatches him back from calm. Karna knows Arjuna will kill him tomorrow, as he was always destined to; but he will never admit Arjuna is his superior.

No, it is not skill that will give his brother victory, but the light he is enfolded in, from the beginning; while Karna’s life was plunged in darkness since its first day. Karna sees his mother Kunti now, as she came to him at the river. He feels her fingers caress his cheek, he hears her sob. How futile his life has been; and tomorrow it would end. Somehow, that is so hard to accept: all that could have been and never was, torments Karna. And because of the Dark One who held his horses’ reins, the reins of his very fate, Arjuna would triumph.

Karna had lied to Duryodhana. But how could he tell his friend it was later than he imagined, that all was already lost? He could have told him before the war began that the side Krishna was on could never lose. But how could he break his heart? The only way he could break the truth to the Kaurava was by dying.

Tomorrow, Shalya might agree to be his sarathy. What was Shalya before blue Krishna? Besides, Shalya hated Karna. Karna tries to thrust aside the darkness that threatens to choke him. Inevitably, his mind wanders back to his guru Bhargava. The scar on his thigh throbs icily, where once the insect fed as his master lay asleep with his head in his lap. Before his waking eyes, Karna sees Bhargava again. He hears his voice pronounce his curse. ‘When you are faced with your most implacable enemy, you will forget the mantras for the devastras!’

He thinks back to the cow he killed on the deserted beach: the brahmana’s curse, ‘Your chariot-wheels shall be mired on the day of your greatest battle. And you will be shot down when you are helpless, just as you have shot my cow today.’

Yes, he has no doubt, as he allows his memories to bear him far from Kurukshetra, that he will die tomorrow. He submits to the clear swell, it washes the last resistance from him. He sees Krishna’s face, black eyes full of mercy; again and again, he sees that face and Karna feels deeply consoled. He feels ready to die, or nearly so.

But he must face Yudhishtira, once, before he does Arjuna. He must conquer him, as well: so Kunti would know that he had spared the lives of her four sons. In his own mind, it was his way of telling them he was their brother. After he died and they learnt who he was, they would cherish the memory. And brilliant Arjuna, the memory of having killed him.

Shifting at will, the visionary night bears him through his whole life, starkly, gently, until he feels his deepest rancor dissolve. Karna is at strange peace when, an hour before dawn, he falls into a dreamless sleep.

FOUR SHALYA 

Dawn of the seventeenth day of the war and Duryodhana comes early to Shalya and says, “My lord, I have come to ask a favor.”

“Tell me what it is and consider it given.”

“Karna means to fight Arjuna today. Karna is the better archer; he will kill Arjuna. But there is one advantage the Pandava has that has saved him all these days.”

He pauses. Shalya says impatiently, “And what is that? Come, Duryodhana, tell me what you have come to say.

“My lord, Krishna is immeasurably superior to any sarathy Karna has had. In all my army, there is only one man who can match Krishna. That man, my lord, is you. I beg you, Shalya, be Karna’s sarathy today.”

“How dare you!” roars Shalya. “You dare ask a kshatriya to be a suta to a sutaputra? Already, you have made the suta Senapati of the Kuru army; and now you want me to be his sarathy. Sutas are servants in the courts of kings. How can a crowned king of the earth hold a suta’s chariot-reins?”

Shalya stutters in rage, “You ask me this, as if Karna is my superior. Duryodhana, I can easily kill that man in a duel. Shalya can face Indra and vanquish him! He can rout your Karna, Arjuna and Krishna all together! You have insulted me, Kaurava, I will not fight for you any more. This is not my war that I should tolerate such impudence.”

Shalya turns to walk away. But Duryodhana grasps his hand and stands before him with tears in his eyes! “How can I even dream of suggesting that Karna is your superior? I know you, mighty king. Shalya is the bane of his enemies!

But, my lord, you will not kill your nephews and Arjuna must die if we are to win this war. Of us all, only Karna can kill him; and how will he do that if he does not have a sarathy who is better than Krishna? Only one man on earth is better than the master of Dwaraka: you, O Shalya. I beg you, take Karna’s chariot-reins in your gifted hands; this is a matter of victory or defeat.

Millions have died for me in this war. My Pitama has fallen and my Acharya is dead. I don’t know how I will ever expiate all that sin. But that is not what we must think of now, only winning the war: which we can never do as long as Arjuna lives. Great Kshatriya, I only asked you to take Karna’s reins as Brahma did Sankara’s, when Siva flew to burn the Tripura!”

Shalya glows at the fulsome praise. He says, “So you meant no slight to me, Duryodhana. Since you believe I am the only one who is a match for Krishna, I will be Karna’s sarathy today!”

Duryodhana actually kneels at Shalya’s feet. “My lord, I can never repay you for this. Now that you have agreed to be my friend’s sarathy, I must tell you something else. Karna’s guru Bhargava had all his astras from Siva himself. The Lord said to him that he must never teach them to a lowborn man. Yet, Parasurama gave them all to Karna and even his bow, the Vijaya. Bhargava is a trikalagyani, who sees through the three veils of time as you and I see the day. Would he have given Karna the Vijaya and the astras, if Karna were a sutaputra?”

“What are you trying to say, Duryodhana?”

“That since I first met him I have always felt Karna was no sutaputra. All my instincts cry that he is a kshatriya. He is not Atiratha and Radha’s natural son, but adopted. My heart always insists that Karna is not just the son of a kshatriya, but of a Deva! Perhaps his mother was a princess and he was born from a night of secret love and abandoned. You all see him every day, my friends, you see how he shines like a God. Tell me, if you did not know he was Atiratha’s son wouldn’t you say he was not only a kshatriya, but the most exceptional one? Even a Devaputra! Can any sutaputra be Arjuna’s equal at archery? Karna surely is.”

It is obvious he believes what he is saying. “Shalya, I am convinced you will not be driving a suta-putra’s chariot today, but a kshatriya’s. Some day the truth will come out and then you will all say that Duryodhana was the only one that realized who Karna really was. I tell you, my friend is the noblest of kshatriyas. Why, I say he was born to rule the world: and so he shall, at my side! I know him long and well now; if Karna is not a kshatriya, none of us is.”

Shalya embraces Duryodhana. “Noble Duryodhana, truest of friends! I will drive Karna’s chariot as well as I know. But there is a condition I must impose. If I love you, I might be critical of you when I think you are in the wrong. If I am to be Karna’s sarathy, I must have the same liberty: I must be able to speak to him as I please.

There are four traits in a man I abhor: when he insults himself, because he feels inferior; when he praises himself too much; when he derides other men and when he is foolhardy, from bravado. While I am Karna’s sarathy, I must be free to censure him if I find any of these weaknesses in him. My censure will sharpen him and perhaps even save his life. He must not mind it.”

Duryodhana has already sent a messenger to Karna with the news that Shalya has agreed to be his charioteer. Just as Shalya finishes, Karna walks up, smiling. He bows deeply to that king, “My lord, I am honored the matchless Shalya will be my sarathy. Of course you may speak freely, whenever you wish, O king.”

Shalya looks at him for a moment. Then, he smiles slowly and says, “I will fetch your chariot, Karna.”

Shalya prepares the chariot for battle, to his satisfaction and brings it out to where the others wait. Karna walks around the ratha in pradakshina, he folds his hands to it. Then he worships the rising sun, chanting a quiet mantra. This done, he respectfully asks Shalya to climb on first, before getting in himself. How splendid those two are in that chariot: like Surya and Agni riding in the pushpaka vimana!

Duryodhana cries, “Today you will do what Bheeshma and Drona could not, my friend. Ride, Karna and destroy our enemies! Come back to me covered in glory. This will be the finest day of our lives.”

Karna reaches out a hand to his friend and he chokes. “For you I will always do my best. Remember that, Duryodhana, that Karna always did his best for you. The rest is in the hands of the Gods.”

Duryodhana wrings his friend’s palm. Shalya flicks his reins over the necks of his superb steeds and they are off at the enemy. Behind him, Karna wipes his eyes. He has no doubt that it is his final journey on which he sets out and this is his last farewell to Duryodhana.