Karna's Wife (21 page)

Human nature is odd; the emotion called love odder still. Was Draupadi’s love for Karna so great that she could absolve him so easily? Or was it that Draupadi’s love was greater and more large-hearted than hers? This was the second time she had this feeling of being a lesser mortal, a failed lover. First, it had been Vrushali who had made her feel insignificant, and now, Draupadi evoked the same feeling of worthlessness in her. She somehow made Uruvi feel her love was not as profound. Was her love for Karna so feeble, so frail that unlike Vrushali and Draupadi, she could not forgive his faults? Did Draupadi love Karna so selflessly that she lost her sense of self so completely?

Draupadi knew that though she loved Karna, she could never marry him. She had been born to be the consort of Arjuna, the favourite disciple of Dronacharya, her father’s arch-enemy. By choosing to marry Arjuna, she had unwittingly offered herself as the wager in the political crossfire between the Kauravas, the Pandavas and the Panchals.

Besides Karna’s low birth, his disgrace at her swayamwara was also because of her brother’s outright rejection of Karna as her suitor. Perhaps it was her fear for her brother’s life that had prompted Draupadi to insult Karna so scathingly that he was forced to opt out of the swayamwara. Her disapproving brother Dhrishtadyumna would have been no match for the warring skills of Karna, an athiratha, a warrior capable of fighting sixty thousand foes single-handedly, and would have been easily killed in a duel between the two. To save her brother, in all likelihood, Draupadi sacrificed her love. She had to marry Arjuna while she longed for Karna. Uruvi looked at Draupadi, beautiful and proud in her pain, and she knew that Draupadi was broken-hearted. Like her birth, Draupadi’s life too was predetermined by a singular goal—the annihilation of the Kurus. And Karna would be one of the casualties in this path of devastation.

‘You came over here to try to save his life, didn’t you?’ asked Draupadi softly. ‘You love him that much?’ She looked at Uruvi with such an intense sadness that Uruvi could feel her pain; they seemed connected in this moment of shared suffering. ‘You were so desperate that you were ready to bear Arjuna’s rage and my wrath.’

Uruvi nodded slowly, wringing her hands in nervous anxiety. ‘Only you can save him,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘I knew it was too much to ask. But I am so afraid I shall lose him—I don’t want him to die!’ she caught a sob.

‘Don’t say that! Don’t torment yourself,’ Draupadi said gently. ‘If you love him so much, why are you so angry with him? If you are angry for my sake and if it makes you any feel any better, let me say this—I am more hurt than angry with him. Karna is known for his goodness, his kindness, his righteousness. And honestly, the one person whom I thought would come to my help would be him. But he did not. I didn’t expect my husbands to get me out of the situation—for they had got me into this nightmare in the first place. But yes, Karna, I thought, would be my saviour. Not my husbands, not Bhishma Pitamaha, not Dronacharya, Not anyone else. But his behaviour was in retaliation for my rejection of him. So, we are even now!’ she added. ‘But I am not angry with him. He insulted me in a moment of heat! Love knows how to forgive. Love is blind—to faults, to flaws. You are fortunate to have him…keep him, don’t lose him.’

Her voice trailed uncertainly. Draupadi was almost confessing her feelings for Karna to her. Uruvi dared not utter a word to break the moment. Draupadi looked bereft, the longing on her face obvious. Her hands were clenched into tight fists as if she was trying to restrain herself physically. ‘There is no way out. And I can’t help you, however much I would like to…’ Draupadi said tonelessly, her shoulders sagging under the burden of pain she was carrying. ‘Do you know how much Arjuna despises Karna? He has made a vow of abstinence until he kills Karna…’

Uruvi paled. Arjuna, in his undiluted hate for Karna, was inflicting the same punishment of celibacy on himself and Draupadi that Uruvi was exacting on Karna and herself. Was she being too harsh on Karna and too righteous?

‘Uruvi, this is the last time we can meet, because the next time it will be war,’ Draupadi saw the sadness in Uruvi’s face and guessed her thoughts. ‘Stay with Karna, Uruvi. What had to happen has happened and all of us are going to suffer for it. You came to me hoping I could salvage the situation. I cannot. I cannot save him, Uruvi. The situation is out of my hands. I am not the reason why Arjuna has sworn to kill Karna in battle. There’s more to it…’ she said tiredly. ‘But it is in our destiny to watch helplessly as bloodshed rages between our husbands. And we know who is going to lose the war and his life,’ she said hollowly.

Both the women knew that the two men would bring this terrifying, personal rivalry to a closing battle of immense proportions. And neither of the two women could save Karna from his imminent death at the hands of Arjuna. Karna’s parting words kept ringing in Uruvi’s tormented mind. ‘
Draupadi deserves her revenge; and I deserve the death she has cursed me with
.’

The Pandavas left for the forest the next morning, leaving behind their mother, Kunti, who did not accompany them for the exile this time. She had decided to stay back at the palace of Vidura and his wife, Parshavya.

Other unexpected news was the arrival of Sage Narada at Hastinapur. ‘Thirteen years from today, the Kauravas will be annihilated because of the crimes committed by Duryodhana,’ he declared to the stricken old king and Vidura and vanished from sight, leaving behind a pall of gloom in the palace and the city where the magnificent Rajasuya celebrations had been held just a few months ago. Uruvi felt crushed under the dread; the bleakness of the future seemed to stifle her.

She was determined to follow her plan. However much it broke her heart, she had to leave Karna. Distance would probably make her stronger and for that, she would have to leave for Pukeya. The thought of parting from Karna was unbearable, but then she remembered, the outrage at the Kuru hall and shuddered with renewed shame and horror, reminded that she could not respect the man she loved any more. Perhaps she was being heartless, cruel and unreasonable, and after hearing what Draupadi had to say to her, a new bewilderment troubled her. She was torn between her moral indignation and being loving and forgiving. She wanted to turn back and flee into the world she had once belonged to, hungry to catch a glimpse of Karna again. She wanted desperately to say one last word of comfort and tenderness, once more to ask for his understanding, strength, love and kindness. She was struck numb with pain, her hands stretched as if to bring him back. She wanted to rush into his arms, forget the growing nightmare and to continue to live as contentedly as she once had.

Dawn was creeping along the river mistily but grey clouds still hovered above the dark trees along the way. Restless and in a state of distress, Uruvi reached the beautiful palace that was her childhood home. It was as imposing as ever, the garden sprawling in front, welcoming in its lush greenery. She stepped down from the chariot and slowly walked inside. Everything seemed the same—her mother’s surprised smile, her father’s warm eyes, her excited handmaid, the carved armchair in the wide verandah, the ancient banyan tree in the garden. But she had changed.

When Uruvi entered the house, pale and troubled, King Vahusha saw at once that something dreadful had happened. He knew what she was going to say before she spoke.

‘Father, I have left Karna.’

He took her hand gently and embraced her. She broke down and wept unrestrainedly. Hot tears coursed down her face, unchecked and uncontrolled. ‘I am tired,’ she murmured brokenly.

Queen Shubra, dismayed, opened her mouth to speak, but her husband motioned her to be silent.

Uruvi did not utter a word of explanation and her father knew that she needed to be left alone. She went to her chamber upstairs and watched the day advance slowly from her balcony as the sorrow—undeserved, bitter and overwhelming—seeped in. Her head pounded and in her disturbed state, she could not read, converse or eat. She walked in the grounds to tire herself out. At sunset, she returned to her room, spent and listless. The night was silent; her room was still. She could not think any more and her turbulent mind had gone strangely vacant. Soon, she heard a discreet cough.

‘Who’s there?’ she cried, startled and annoyed.

There was a pause. She turned to the threshold and saw her father come into the room. He quietly said, ‘I know something is very wrong. Do you want to talk about what happened?’

‘I came home because I knew I could count on you. And your sympathy,’ she answered, looking a little sheepish.

‘It was bound to happen…’

‘Was it, Father? Were you expecting this?’ she cried.

‘I suppose so. You couldn’t hope to keep him always for yourself, dear,’ he reminded her gently. ‘He is destined for other things…’

She could not have agreed more. In bits and pieces, in fits and starts, in between sobs and gasps, she recounted what had happened, most of which he already knew through hearsay and the rumours flying thick and fast in his kingdom.

‘Are you sure you want to leave him?’ he asked finally. ‘You couldn’t live without him before—will you be able to now?’

‘I have to,’ she murmured.

‘Why do you have to? Is this some sort of a punishment you are imposing on yourself or is it a way of punishing Karna?’ he asked sharply. Then, in a more kindly manner, he continued, ‘Listen, child, do what your heart tells you, not your pride. You are too proud to accept that the person you so wholly loved could go wrong. Your judgement has taken a knock and you cannot bear the fall of your idol. But that was your mistake, not his. Karna didn’t ask to be your god.’

She raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘Father, are you defending him or are you justifying what he did? You sound like a saint, not a king.’

‘Evil is everywhere. But so is good—and you need to recognize it when you see it,’ her father gently reminded her. ‘It is easy to single out the faults of others, chastise the wicked, but how many realize their own flaws and knowing them, are repentant? How many make amends? At least, Karna has that integrity in him.’

She kept silent, confused, clenching her hands agitatedly. ‘I want to go back to him—but not now! I need to think! And I am not sure if I am right or he is wrong, or whether he is right and I am wrong. What makes me so terribly sad is to think of his unspeakable degradation! I thought there was no one like him. I admired him so much! He was the world to me. Was he a sham or was he my illusion?’

‘Do you think all of us are perfect, dear? For you, it’s agony that the person you believed in so totally, you considered so angelic, should be so flawed and hollow. What is hurting you is that the person you thought to be the epitome of goodness should fall so suddenly.’

Uruvi shrugged her shoulders. ‘After this, I thought my love for him was killed in a flash. But that is not so. I love him in spite of everything,’ she admitted, grudgingly.

‘It is your sense of honour which defines what is right or wrong and it need not be correct always. What Karna did was deplorable, but what made it highly offensive for you was that your hero had feet of clay. It is your personal disappointment in him that you find a betrayal. But he has not betrayed you. He was a man scorned and sneered at and he hit back in anger when he got a chance to hurt the woman who did it. Whether it’s a man or a woman is immaterial. Dishonour can kill decency in anybody. You have never experienced it, dear, so you wouldn’t know how one reacts to it.’

‘Have you ever been humiliated?’ she asked curiously, surprised to see this side of her father.

‘Oh, yes, several times!’ he laughed lightly. ‘That’s why most wars are fought! Wars are often a personal vendetta, not impelled by noble reasons. It is easy for the ego to get dented any time, by anyone. Another mistake you are committing is clubbing Karna with Duryodhana and Dushasana. Karna retaliated out of vengeance; they behaved as they did in sheer spite and lust.’

‘But that doesn’t condone what he did,’ she countered swiftly. ‘It was wrong, simple!’

‘And what gives you the right to be so judgemental?’ her father looked annoyed. ‘Morality be damned! A scruple which causes so much grief and turmoil is not worth it. Morality is not a rigid formula of mathematics. No standard of it can be laid down for all times, and for all situations. Even legal experts like Bhishma could not find a solution for the quandary posed by Draupadi. You are not being righteous; you are running away from the problem. Face it. And tackle it in a less extreme manner!’

‘There is something called conscience!’ she cried vehemently.

‘Are you his conscience-keeper? If so, show him the way. Don’t condemn him and flee in righteous horror. Don’t close your eyes to the flaws and reality—or it will be you who will stumble and fall in a deep void. Condemning and condoning are two faces in the mirror; but it takes more courage to forgive than to criticize someone. Are you brave enough to pardon Karna?’

Would she be as magnanimous as Draupadi? Uruvi asked herself this question remorsefully, knowing that Karna’s prey, though broken and bruised, had enough strength in her and love in her heart to absolve him. Her father looked at her meaningfully. ‘You need to be brave to forgive,’ he repeated. ‘Are you strong enough to accept his imperfections? You are disillusioned because your hero fell from your eyes—but he will only soar higher after his nadir. A weak man goes downhill, but Karna is a strong person. His stumble will never be his fall. He will heave himself up and go higher. And you need to be there with him then.’