Karna's Wife (15 page)

‘He is so shrewd, he can see through people’s flaws—that’s how he plays his game of manipulation,’ remarked Karna to Uruvi when rumours of the Kauravas’ attempt to kill the Pandavas in the lac palace at Varanavata refused to die down. ‘He plays on the weak points of his foe and corners him in his own trap. He is preying on Duryodhana’s weakness, which is his jealousy of his cousins. Similarly, he plays on the weakness of the Pandavas—their mildness—and has managed to pit the two groups of cousins against each other. He intends to destroy both. He is vile, he is wicked. He is a rat, who doesn’t have the courage to face his enemy upfront, but would rather devour them through stealthy nibbling. He can cause untold destruction, and would be the first one to escape from it. An evil coward, that’s what he is!’ Karna spat, livid that he was powerless to make his friend see through the malevolence of the sinister uncle whom he loved so devotedly.

Uruvi could not have agreed more with her husband but she thought there was more to Shakuni’s plot, something even more devious. She wondered whether King Pandu had been spared from his treachery. King Pandu was said to have died of Sage Kindama’s curse—but had he? Or had he been murdered by Shakuni’s spies?

Once, when King Pandu had gone hunting, he shot down a deer but the wounded animal was actually Rishi Kindama who had taken the form of a deer while lovemaking. The dying sage cursed the horrified King Pandu that he would die if he were ever to consummate his marriage. Once, in a moment of weakness, King Pandu made love to his second wife Queen Madri, and the king died in his wife’s arms. A grief-stricken Madri then jumped into her husband’s funeral pyre.

Why, Uruvi always wondered, would Queen Madri consign herself to the flames, when no queen before her had joined their husband in the funeral pyre? Moreover, why would the mother of tiny, helpless six-month-old twins, Nakul and Sahadeva, kill herself and leave them orphaned and under the care of her husband’s first wife? It
was
strange. Had Madri, too, been mortally wounded like her husband, King Pandu, when they had been attacked? Had she been able to talk to Kunti before she died? Had Shakuni played up the curse of the sage to his advantage after all? If he could instigate Duryodhana to burn the Pandavas and the Queen Mother in the lac palace, he would not have any qualms in murdering King Pandu too. The only person who probably knew the truth was Kunti—but she was an evasive lady who knew how to keep her secrets. Uruvi recalled how she had pestered her on her wedding day about whether she had any regrets, but had got nothing out of her.

Uruvi, however, had never dared to express such thoughts—neither to Karna nor Kunti. She didn’t want to add to the atmosphere of suspicion at the royal court where treacherous mind games were being played.

Shakuni had always seen to it that he played his cards right, ensuring that Dhritrashtra remained the King of Hastinapur
.
First through the blind king and now through Duryodhana, he had secured greater power for himself. Unlike his sister who had turned away from the politics of power, he revelled in it. He lusted after power; the power to destroy his enemies.

Uruvi recalled her father’s words and his definition of dushta chathushtayam—Shakuni was one of the wicked four with Duryodhana, Dushasana and Karna, the one she had willingly married in spite of this slur on him. The epithet stuck, but Shakuni was the most wicked, the most vile of them all. And as honour among villains goes, it was ironic that out of the four, two loathed each other. Karna was at his arrogant worst whenever he was near the devious old man and Shakuni never missed a chance to remind Karna that he was a king only through the blessings of his nephew Duryodhana.

Dushasana did not bother to give Karna the respect he expected. In greeting, he always bowed low to Uruvi, but he never bent his head or folded his hands for Karna. Karna noticed this but remained silent.

‘Why do you take their insults so easily?’ she blurted out one day, when she couldn’t bear to see the hurt in his face.

‘Because I don’t want to hurt Duryodhana. They are his brother and his uncle,’ he said simply. ‘And how much can Duryodhana protect me? It’s how it’s always been. I have got used to such unpleasantness. I have lived with it long enough, and I’ll have to live with it till the end. But you, Uruvi, you will have to toughen yourself too. You will have to learn to live with this humiliation.’

‘I try to…oh, why do we live in this hell?’ she cried.

‘I didn’t have a choice. I was born into it. You had an option, but you chose to marry an outcaste like me,’ he said, his lips tightening slightly.

‘No, I am not regretting my decision, if that’s what you mean… but yes, it hurts. It hurts badly. Till now, I didn’t realize the world could be such a cruel place.’ She had said these words in a whisper, her voice deadened with a strange hopelessness. Karna recognized this and gave a deep sigh. Uruvi said plaintively, ‘How could you live like this? It’s torture! Why can’t you get away from them?’

‘You know well I cannot.’

‘Anything is better than this. This is a life of degradation, of humiliation, and worse, knowing that you are the wrong person in the wrong place with the wrong people doing the wrong things…oh, Karna, don’t you ever think it so?’ she implored, her eyes glistening with despair. He could not look at her, the desperately expectant look in her eyes was too much to bear. Timidly, she stretched out her hand to touch his. He covered her hand with his and squeezed it tightly, as if clutching at the last vestige of hope.

‘I want to make you happy. You are all I have got. I love you. But I can’t forsake that one man whom you want me to renounce for you.’

She released her hand from his and stood up. She went over to the long mirror at the end of the room and said, ‘It’s about time we got ready…your parents are expecting us downstairs.’

As the wife of Karna, Uruvi had resigned herself to the reality that she had to live with enemies. Her father had cautioned her; so had Kunti. It was not just a word of warning, it was their last plea to protect her from certain lifelong misery, from the relentless ill-treatment she could not escape from. By not obeying them, she had hurt them as much as she had hurt herself.

She detested being known as the wife of one of the dushta chathushtayam, a description that filled her with shame. ‘No!’ she cried, ‘he is not wicked
.
Karna is not a villain. He is good, he is noble, and I love him for that.’ But the world was not listening to her silent cries. She would have to carry the burden of this stigma as well. Since her marriage, she could not look at the Pandavas straight in the eye, especially Arjuna, whom she had spurned for his arch-rival. With her parents, she was always on the back foot, knowing that they were experiencing her hurt and humiliation as well. The same guilt swamped her whenever she was in the presence of Krishna or Bhishma Pitamaha. She avoided them or glanced at them covertly as if wanting to rush off and hide.

She found it difficult to reconcile herself to this apologetic way of living. But she had to endure it. She had to suffer the way people looked at them, at her, at Karna, the false sympathy she had to often put up with. The embarrassment that deluged her often made her hate herself. Nor could she stand the contempt people showed for Karna. She sometimes wished she was more thick-skinned, so that she could see nothing, feel nothing. It was misery that forced her to chat, to laugh off their scorn and remain agreeable even when the nastiest tongues wagged. She had to learn to survive, and the only place she could hide was in the recesses of her thoughts, her silent tears slipping softly down the shadowy contours of her face, dripping into the darkness.

King Yudhishthira, the worthy Pandava king, was known as ajatashatru: one who has no enemy. It was because of that sterling quality that all men, gods, kings, sages and saints were happy at the success of the Rajasuya yajna—the sacrifice made by King Yudhishthira to declare himself as the emperor of all kings—except Duryodhana. Yet, neither he nor Karna protested against Yudhishthira’s grand title openly.

Uruvi voiced her doubts to Karna. ‘This is the best chance Duryodhana has to prove his might. If he resents Yudhishthira’s claim as emperor, he should fight Yudhishthira in an open battle.’

Karna frowned, his voice troubled. ‘But he insists on doing otherwise. He says he will be vanquished by his cousin as the Pandavas have the support of all the major kings. I tell him, what does it matter? He has me, and I am sure Bhishma Pitamaha and Dronacharya will take his side out of family loyalty. Why doesn’t he fight the Pandavas and get what he wants? He couldn’t have had a better opportunity…’ Karna looked perplexed.

‘Because he doesn’t think the way you do. He is a coward,’ Uruvi could not hide the sneer in her words. ‘He would rather win Yudhishthira’s share of the kingdom through deception than an open combat. He is wily, not valiant. He has Hastinapur, yet he covets Indraprastha—the barren half of the kingdom that was handed out to the Pandavas. Now that they have managed to successfully convert it into a land of wealth and prosperity, Duryodhana regrets that the Kauravas were forced to part with it. Today the Pandavas are ruling Indraprastha in full glory and your friend has become insecure again, right, Karna?’ She didn’t wait for her husband’s reply; he was looking at her wordlessly.

‘Worse, with Yudhishthira performing the Rajasuya sacrifice, he has declared himself the emperor of all kings. Yet, Duryodhana doesn’t have it in him to challenge the Pandavas and oppose their growing might,’ she said disparagingly. ‘He would rather plot deviously and yearn for what is not his. Why can’t he live in peace and let others live in peace too? He is itching for a fight but a mean, sly fight—not an open battle at all! The wicked are never satisfied. As a friend, why don’t you restrain him from this madness?’

Her tirade made Karna restless, though he fought hard to hide it. What Uruvi said was true. ‘I cannot stop him, understand this, Uruvi. No one can,’ he replied quietly. ‘Duryodhana is like this because he has been mentored by the evil Shakuni far too long. He believes his right to be a king has been usurped by his cousins who, frankly, he has never considered his cousins at all. He has never acknowledged the sons of Kunti and Madri as the sons of Pandu. To him, the tales relating to Kunti’s boon are all eyewash. His resentment for the Pandavas stems from there. He sincerely believes that since he is the eldest son of the eldest king, he is the heir apparent to the throne of Hastinapur. His father, in spite of being the eldest son, had to renounce the throne in favour of King Pandu because he was blind. He wants to take back that throne which he thinks was always rightfully his, but which has been given away to Yudhishthira instead. He believes that this was blatant favouritism.’

‘And you believe what he believes in?’ she asked. ‘Can’t both of you see that it was deliberately done to avoid a clash between the Kauravas and the Pandavas over the whole Kuru kingdom?’ Uruvi reminded him pointedly. ‘Why can’t he be content with what he has been given? He remains jealous of the Pandavas. And he always hated Bhima the most! Poor Duryodhana, he was beaten up so badly by Bhima each time they quarrelled! I remember those hideous fights well, when Bhima used to pummel him black and blue!’

‘The hate runs much deeper now,’ Karna agreed solemnly. ‘Bhima is his eternal opponent in mace warfare. Bhima dominates the Kauravas in sports and in various skills with his immense physical power. Both Bhima and Duryodhana possess exceptional physical strength, and have been equally well-trained by Balarama in mace fighting and wrestling. But if Bhima has the power, Duryodhana wields more skill with the mace.’

‘A rivalry similar to the one you have with Arjuna,’ Uruvi thought silently. ‘How can I forget that Arjuna and Karna are on par? Both are remarkable archers, both competed savagely for Draupadi’s hand, and again, at my swayamwara, I made them adversaries. But it is getting more dangerous than mere ego clashes. Both Karna and Arjuna have a deep bond with the Kauravas—one through friendship and the other through blood. What they have chosen to do has shaped them and their families, accentuating the importance of obligation and responsibility. But each incident has impelled the situation towards a climax—the invincible friendship between Duryodhana and Karna is as strong as the seething rivalry between Karna and Arjuna. Moreover, the antagonism between the Pandavas and the Kauravas is getting as virulent as the growing hostility between Karna and Arjuna.’ She shivered at the thought of the implications of this enmity.

‘Why do you hate Arjuna so much?’ she asked abruptly, her words rushing out before she could stem them. She regretted them instantly. Karna gave her an inscrutable look and said blandly, ‘Not because of you, dear. I am afraid I am not a very jealous person.’

‘If not me, then is it because he won Draupadi?’ she hit back, hurt to the quick, the stab of jealousy going deeper than she would have imagined.

Karna paled. ‘Have you lost your sense of humour, woman?’ he said with vehemence. ‘It’s got nothing to do with you or Draupadi. You give her more credit than I can claim!’ he added dryly.