AJAYA - RISE OF KALI (Book 2) (19 page)

“Are you trying to buy me off, Prince? Who are you to make me King of my own lands? Your writ does not run in the deep forests of this country. The only power you have over me is to kill me now. I have faced death and far greater humiliation than you can subject me to. You hold no power over me. You can bestow nothing on me.”

“Suyodhana, will you allow this arrogant Nishada to insult you like this?” Karna’s hand was once again on his sword. Jayadratha and Sushasana also moved closer to the Nishada, ready to pounce on him at the slightest nod from Suyodhana.

“Karna, we can silence one Nishada here. Can we silence the entire country? We have thirteen years until my cousins return and stake a claim to my throne. I know war will come, but I do not intend to allow them to take what is not theirs. Meanwhile, I am determined to prove I am fit to rule this land. I will not be bound by mindless rules and traditions. I will listen to the voice of the people. He is that voice. I will not silence him. Yes, I want power. I am no God, nor claim to be the son of one. My parents are mortals, blind at that. Ekalavya’s words have made me realise I was more concerned about the insult from Draupadi than the mass murder Arjuna committed in Khandiva; more concerned about clearing my name in the house of lac incident than about the lives of the Nishada woman and her children who perished in it. Does that make me evil? Perhaps it does. Does it make me more evil than the ones who actually committed those acts? That is for posterity to decide.

“All my acts are selfish, including our friendship, Karna. Every act of love is selfish. I believe that when the time comes, you will stand by my side. So will Jayadratha, Aswathama and Sushasana. I believe that all my brothers will stand by me, not because I am righteous or the epitome of
dharma,
which I am not, but because you love me as a man and a friend. I offer the same friendship to you, Ekalavya. It is for you to accept or reject it. Whatever your decision, you will leave here a free man. I cannot promise what will happen tomorrow; perhaps as a ruler I may order your death or capture, but today you have a choice.”

Ekalavya was thrown into confusion. Was this a trap? Was the offer of friendship nothing but a bait by the Prince, the usual one set by the elite to trap the poor? Ekalavya tried to hide his emotions but found it difficult to mask his happiness. Was this not what he had always yearned for, to be accepted like Karna by the same society that had made him toil to put together his shattered ambition? Yet, in a corner of his mind, something nagged at him; his primeval instincts told him it was a big mistake to align himself with the Crown Prince.

“I will accept your offer on my own terms – you will not interfere in our affairs; there will be no killing of Nagas, Nishadas, Kiratas or any forest dwellers; you will grant me freedom to rule as I deem fit; and in the areas I rule, no
varna
or
jati
system will be accepted.”

“I agree, but on one condition. When required, you and your people will support me.”

“You will have to earn it, Prince. You are acting in your selfish interests and I in mine.”

“Suyodhana,” Karna said in a horrified voice, “do not accept such terms from this man. He is our captive. You cannot go against all the accepted norms of our society. I have given my word to Guru Parashurama that we will make amends and try to win back the acceptance of the Brahmins. We have become villains to many people by disrobing Draupadi and sending the Pandavas into exile.”

“What are you afraid of, Karna? Is not my friendship enough? Why do you yearn so much for universal acceptance? I find your tone since returning from the South quite disheartening. I do not fear society. We must make new norms. I did wrong by Draupadi, but let no one use that as a tool to brand me as evil. I have no regrets. I did it for you. I did it for my bruised ego. Yudhishtra was a fool who gambled everything, including his wife, and lost. I prefer being called evil to being known as a fool.”

“Did I suggest you disrobe Draupadi?” Karna asked indignantly.

“Stop this and decide what to do with this Nishada,” Sushasana said, moving to stand between Karna and Suyodhana.

“I accept your terms. I will crown you a vassal King for all the forest lands and their inhabitants. We will have the coronation here, today.” Ignoring the murmurs that rose in the Sabha, Suyodhana turned to a guard. “Summon Acharya Kripa. Tell him Suyodhana is making a Nishada a King. Request him to conduct the ceremony as per the Vedic rites.”

“Brother, we are forgetting that one of us has not come back from Gandhara. When are we going to do something about it?” Sushasana asked and the Sabha fell silent.

“Karna has returned and the Confederate has been crushed. Pitamaha will keep his word to me. So we will leave for Gandhara soon. More than Aswathama, I wish to meet my Uncle Shakuni. I have a few questions for him.”

The arrival of the Prime Minister cut off Suyodhana. Vidhura stood under the massive arch of the door, his eyes red with fatigue and anger. Ekalavya could see the Prime Minister was seething inside. He walked in and eyed the Sabha with distaste. Suyodhana bowed low. Taking their cue from him, the entire Sabha bowed to the Prime Minister.

Vidhura deposited the cloth bag he was carrying on a table. “Your Highness, here are the official seals of the empire.”

“What is the meaning of all this, Uncle?”

“Your Highness, these are the Royal Insignia of the Grand Regent of Hastinapura and the Prime Minister. May God be with you.” Vidhura walked out of the stunned assembly, his head held high.

For a moment there was pindrop silence, then Suyodhana pushed Ekalavya away and called out to the fast vanishing form of the ex-Prime Minister. But Vidhura hurried away, neither answering, nor turning back.

“Where is Pitamaha?” Visibly agitated, Suyodhana rushed out.

The Sabha rapidly emptied, leaving Ekalavya standing alone, feeling ignored and unimportant. He wondered about the strange relationship Karna had with Suyodhana. Did Karna ever feel equal to the blue-blooded Prince? Did Suyodhana cultivate the Suta merely for his own selfish ends? It had shaken Ekalavya that the Prince had agreed to his allegations of selfishness. Suyodhana’s frank acceptance of his self-interest made him somehow more likeable. But he would never be a slave to Suyodhana, like Karna. They were emotional fools.

Ekalavya was shaken from his reverie by a sharp punch to his stomach. “My father is a good man.” A little girl was standing waist-high before him with clenched fists. She dared him to contradict her, ready to throw another punch. Ekalavya burst out laughing. The girl punched him with all her strength.

“Who are you, young lady? Why are you punching me? Ouch! That hurt; you are a strong woman,” Ekalavya said, trying to hide his amusement by clutching the belly the little hands had pummelled.

“You will get more if you fight with my father. You will become chutney. Why do you call my father names, you black monster?
Bhuta,
that is what you are, a black
bhuta.”

“Who is your father, little one?”

“Suyodhana, Crown Prince of Hastinapura. I am Princess Lakshmana. And you are not supposed to address me in that way. Also, you must bow to me.”

“My apologies, Princess Lakshmana.” Ekalavya knelt on both knees and bowed low. “I do not bow to anyone, not even to the King or your father, but I will make an exception. I will bow to you.”

“Hmm, I forgive you. Next time bow when we meet. Why did you call my father an evil man?”

“Princess, I did not call him that.”

“Are you really a
bhuta?”

“Yes. I am a
bhuta
of the dark forests.”

“Do you belong to the
bhutaganas
of Lord Shiva?”

“Princess, I
am
Lord Shiva.”

Lakshmana peered at him intently and Ekalavya bit his lips to control his laughter. A little boy who was playing with a toy cart nearby looked up at hearing the name of Shiva and walked towards them.

“No, you are lying. You are not wearing the snake necklace,” pointed out Lakshmana.

“Oh, I left it in the forest. It has gone to visit other Nagas.”

Lakshmana’s gaze travelled down and stopped at Ekalavya’s mutilated hand. The Nishada quickly tried to hide it, embarrassed by his imperfection. Suddenly he became aware of his position. He was a low-caste untouchable, chatting with the Princess of the empire, in the Sabha. In earlier times, they would have purified the place he had stepped on with cow dung. Now he stood free inside the most important building in all of Bharatavarsha.

“You do not have a thumb. Show me, show me.”

“No.”

“Please show me.” Lakshmana grabbed Ekalavya’s hand.

Reluctantly the Nishada opened his palm. He felt annoyed; the Princess was making fun of him. He wanted to run from this sickening place.

“It must have hurt you so much!”

More than you could ever imagine, Princess. More than any one of you will every feel. Ekalavya tried to pull his hand away, but the little girl held it tight between her own. He looked around, embarrassed. He was an untouchable and the Princess was holding his hand. That hand... If anyone came in and said something to him now, he would kill him, the Nishada vowed. For a moment he thought of shoving the little girl away and running off. The ghost thumb itched.

Shocking him, Lakshmana kissed his hand. Despite himself, tears welled in the Nishada’s eyes. “That should make you fine. That is what my mother does when I get hurt.”

“I will never let you get hurt, my Princess,” Ekalavya said hoarsely. He looked away, not wanting her to see his tears. He smiled bitterly. All those years of hard struggle and fighting, and now a little girl had broken all his defences with her dimpled smile.

“How did it happen?” Lakshmana asked innocently.

“It is a long story and you will fall asleep.”

“Oh, but I love stories. Please tell me the story.”

“It is a sad story and you do not want to hear it.”

“Oh yes, I do,” she insisted, trying to shove aside the little boy who had sidled up to her, his eyes wide in anticipation of a story.

“Oh do not mind him, he is my brother, Lakshmana Kumara. Please tell me the story.” Lakshmana sat down and her brother followed her example. The children looked at the Nishada eagerly. Reluctantly, Ekalavya sat down. The children smiled at each other, clapping their hands in glee.

While Suyodhana faced Bhishma in another wing of the palace, the Nishada sat with the Prince and Princess in the centre of the Sabha and started his story. “Once there was a Nishada boy who wanted to be an archer, but he was so poor that he starved on most days. One day, when he thought he would die of hunger, he entered the palace grounds to steal some mangoes. There he met a Prince, an evil Prince...”

*****

19
   
T
HE
M
ERCHANT

SUYODHANA DID HIS UTMOST
to persuade Bhishma and Vidhura to change their stand, but they remained adamant about resigning from their respective positions. Bhishma then advised Suyodhana to forget about Aswathama in Gandhara and get on with ruling the country. This resulted in yet another argument between the Patriarch and the hot-blooded Crown Prince.

Finally, when Bhishma realised that Suyodhana would not heed his advice, he sighed wearily and said, “If you see Shakuni, do not stop to ask questions; cut off his head and bring it to me. This is the only thing I ask for the long years I have served this country.”

Suyodhana was surprised by Bhishma’s anger. But he understood the pain of betrayal; Shakuni had done it to himself. There was no time to waste, he had to see his father and get his permission to mount an attack on Gandhara. Suyodhana bowed to the Patriach and hurried towards his father’s chamber. When he thought about Bhishma’s words, he began to feel doubt gnawing at him. Would he have the courage to cut off the head of the man he had once trusted and loved? Perhaps, if Aswathama was dead, he would be able to do it. But if Aswathama was still alive? Suyodhana had no answer.

***

“No one would dare touch my son. He is the Crown Prince, Gandhari. I will not allow him to suffer my fate. No one with a sweet tongue and poisoned heart will steal his birthright, like they did mine. Have you heard, the Suta conquered all of Bharatavarsha? My son did well by choosing him for a friend, without bothering about his caste and lineage. Karna has returned victorious, and I am now Emperor of a land stretching from the snow-capped Himalayas to the sea-kissed Kumari.”

“I wish Suyodhana had not befriended that Suta. It has made him unacceptable to many powerful men. And now he has made a Nishada King of the forest lands.”

“Bah, Gandhari! Who cares for the opinion of a few priests who know nothing about warfare? Such matters concern only Kshatriyas. I admire the Suta’s pluck in challenging Arjuna. I can sympathise with him, for I see myself in him. I have told you before but I shall tell you again now, they would keep me away from arms; hiding the swords, maces, bows and arrows from me when I was a little boy. I would sit in a corner of the practice grounds, beside the idol of Kali Ma, nibbling on the sweets the servants gave me to keep me amused so that I would not disturb the practice of my brother Pandu. I was blind and could get hurt, they told me. So I was kept away, while my brother was trained by none other than Bhishma Pitamaha.”