Karna's Wife (46 page)

Vrishakethu was the last warrior on earth who knew how to use the deadly weapons, the Brahmastra, Varun astra, Agni astra and Vayu astra. With the age of Kalyuga, the era of corruption and the downfall of morality, approaching close and fast, Krishna warned his devoted disciple not to pass on this knowledge to anyone else as it had the power to cause mass destruction.

Vrishkethu kept his promise to Krishna and did not reveal it to any other person. It remained his secret, showing he was a worthy son of his father Karna, who always kept his word, and his mother Uruvi, a healer until the last days of her life, who had hated war but who lived through the bloodiest of them all.

I decided to write this book on an impulse, one which, unlike many others, I have not regretted. At the back of my mind were my mother’s encouraging words, echoing over several decades, ever since I graduated from penning unpublished short stories and illegible essays. Evidently unimpressed with my journalistic writing, she wished that I would write a book of poems or a novel someday. Belying my name, I chose the latter. Thank you, Aai.

And there are so many others who have been an undeniable part of this process.

C. Rajagopalachari’s unforgettable
Mahabharata
that I first read thirty years ago and re-read subsequently for reference.

My editor and the Rupa team for being patient with me and bringing out this book, thank you.

I was touched and pleasantly surprised by the number of well-wishers who generously helped me in some way or the other, even though I barely knew them. Always graciously yours, thank you.

Prakash—my friend, confidante and husband whose loyal support and unwavering conviction in my capability egged me on to undertake many things that my lazy bones and indolent mind would have avoided. However, he has still not been successful in making me join the gym.

Kimaya and Amiya—my teenage daughters who deigned to agree to read the book—if it ever gets published. I thank them for their support—not once did they rush into the room and chatter while I pored over my work.

Biswadeep Ghosh—my friend and ex-colleague who read the first draft of the manuscript. After (im)patiently perusing through the tome, he decided to edit it, and in the process, got to know much about the Mahabharata. It was the second draft that went to the publishers.

My dear, irrepressible friends—Niloufer, Priya, Amina, Ash, Jyoti, Anahita, Samata and Roshan without whose timely inputs and opinions, the novel would not have progressed from the title to the epilogue!

My cousin Shaila who helped me with my homework and vernacular literature.

My sisters—Asha and Radha, who promised that they would buy the book and not borrow it from me or the library.

And Dharmanand Bharne—my father, my guru, my mentor, my guide, my philosopher and my best friend without whom I would not have taken up writing. Or anything else.

Lastly, I thank God whom I hope I never fail.