The Thirteenth Day (21 page)

And I woke up breathing heavily.

It was late evening and nearly time for the council. I asked a servant to draw a hot bath, and after a quick wash, put on a clean dhoti and draped a shawl around myself and walked towards the council tent.

I met Varahamira on the way, and took him to a corner.

‘Everyone’s miserable, sire. No one’s talking. It’s worse than when Lord Bhishma left the field. I hear they’ve delayed the council meeting because of it.’

It was true. The tent was empty. I went and sat inside and waited for someone to come.

It took a little while. I had just begun to think of going to Suyodhana’s tent when our first allies trickled in. And then some more. There was sadness in their eyes. Not the kind that comes with grief, but with helplessness. Drona walked in with Suyodhana, followed by Shakuni. His eyes were swollen and his beard was wet with tears.

He looked at me and spat, ‘Coward.’ And walked away before I knew what happened.

Everyone took their places and Drona picked up the Speaking Staff.

‘Today was one of the worst days I have ever had on the field. We have just shown our backs to our enemy. Run from them like petrified hens. We have shown them that we fear them. Worse, that we will run away when are afraid. Yes, I don’t see Bhishma here today, or Lord Bhagadatta. But other than the two of them, I see all the men who won us the first eight days of the war. I want you to remember that as you go back to your tents today and come back with your strength and courage for tomorrow’s battle.’

Drona sat down and Shakuni charged and picked up the staff. He looked at the council and hissed, ‘Fine words, Guruji, fine words indeed. These aren’t men, they are rats. Vermin. There were only two men out there today and they were killed because of these cowards. Vrishala and Achala. Remember their names, scum. ’

Shakuni shook the staff and then pounded it on the ground screaming their names. No one dared interrupt him till Suyodhana caught him by his shoulders and pinned him down. The Speaking Staff slipped from Shakuni’s grip and rolled towards me. I went over, picked it up and waited for the commotion to end.

I had to take matters in hand.

Shakuni was escorted out of the tent still a little disoriented. I waited for everyone to settle in their positions and spoke, ‘Drona, your strategy has been bad from the beginning. We haven’t captured Yudhishthira yet. Nor have we killed any of the Pandavas. We need a new plan. Something that’s a little less defensive…and a little less outdated.’

It was sacrilege. Up there with mixing sura in a sage’s water bottle. To question strategy was one thing. To question Drona personally was quite another. However, I was not scared.

‘I’m not done, Drona. It’s bad enough that you hatched your little plan in secret with Susharma. He went out and announced it to the fucking world.’

Susharma stood up. ‘Unlike you, I’m not a coward. I fear no one, not even Arjuna.’

‘Susharma, sit down. This is not about you.’

He sat down slowly, still glaring at me.

I looked at the room.

‘This is about all of us. We’re allies. We deserve to know the battle strategy in full, before the day starts. Now tell us, Drona, why weren’t we informed?’

He rose to the bait.

‘I am the commander-in-chief of this army. It’s my decision. How dare you question it, suta?’

Suyodhana walked up to me and asked for the staff. I gave it to him reluctantly.

‘What Radheya says is correct, Guruji. We must trust each other as allies. That means we can’t keep key elements of strategy hidden. It shouldn’t happen again in the future.’

Drona nodded stiffly.

The rest of the allies nodded too, relieved that Suyodhana had said what was running through all their minds.

‘And another thing. Radheya is the king of Anga. From now on, no one in this council will refer to him as anything other than
Lord
Radheya.’

Drona didn’t react. The other allies looked at the ground, avoiding each other’s glances.

Suyodhana continued, ‘The day is past now. And I still believe Guruji is the best battle commander in this room.’

He looked at me when he said that. His eyes hoping I wouldn’t contradict him.

‘But I also believe we need a different way of fighting the enemy now that our most experienced fighters are gone.’

He looked at Drona and said, ‘Guruji, you need to think of a new strategy.’

For a moment, I almost felt sorry for Drona. It was like asking a man to invent the wheel without telling him what it was needed for.

He almost choked on his words as he said them, ‘Putra, there is nothing wrong with my strategy. We have been a little unfortunate in its execution, that’s all. Nothing that we won’t be able to put right tomorrow.’

Suyodhana expected a better answer than that. ‘Guruji, it’s obvious there is some flaw in your approach. Otherwise we’d be winning, right?’

‘Formations alone don’t win battles, putra.’

‘Then tell me, Guruji, what does?’

‘This conversation is futile.’

‘What will win us this battle, Guruji? What are we doing wrong?’

‘Sometimes, putra, everything can go right, and we can still lose the battle. We have to just keep doing everything right till we begin to win.’

‘That’s not good enough, Guruji. Tell me how we can win through tomorrow or let me appoint a commander-in-chief who can.’

Had I been in Drona’s place, I would have walked out of the tent, out of Kurukshetra.

Drona let the insult pass and merely said, ‘There is no need. I will have a plan tomorrow.’

Suyodhana nodded.

‘Thank you, Guruji. And if you’re not able to get us Yudhishthira tomorrow, we’ll appoint a commander-in-chief who will.’

Drona replied, ‘Then I don’t have much time,’ and walked out of the tent.

The meeting ended almost immediately after that, with Suyodhana telling the allies to get some rest.

I waited for the crowd to leave the tent and approached Suyodhana.

‘You showed the old bugger that you mean business.’

‘Please don’t call him that.’

He turned away from me and stormed off towards his tent. As he left, I heard him tell his retainer, ‘Double rations for the troops today. Inform the cooks.’

I walked a few paces towards my own and stopped. A thought struck me. Sleep could wait.

It was cool on the twelfth night of Kurukshetra but the fires in Drona’s tent were still burning late at night. I entered the tent unannounced. It was bare and would have resembled a foot soldier’s tent with its cheap leather hide and pock-marked tent poles were it not for the royal insignia displayed on the tent’s entrance. The old prude refused any ‘indulgences’ in times of war and slept on a wooden plank with his mattress rolled up into a rough pillow. The tent itself had been a recent addition because Suyodhana had insisted that it wouldn’t be appropriate for the commander of his armies to sleep out in the open.

He was sitting on the plank and reading when I entered.

‘Didn’t you learn to ask for permission before entering a tent?’

His eyes burned through me like hot ghee through a soft chapati. After forty years of living a life hardened by the military ambitions of his students, he had an uncanny knack of making everyone feel like they were under inspection. I had heard that on one occasion, a minor king of an eastern principality had even fainted on his wedding day, after being the subject of Drona’s gaze. For a moment, I pitied Ashwatthama his childhood. No wonder he was such a surly lout.

‘They don’t teach us these niceties in the stable, sire.’

‘Sire? Well now, what happened to “Drona”? You have come to mock me, haven’t you? Get out!’

‘I’m here to help you…sire.’

‘You little toad. What makes you think I’ll need your help? Come back tomorrow and fight. And don’t run away. That will be enough.’

‘I have an idea. A strategy of sorts. It may work.’

‘Don’t talk to me about leading armies, boy; I’ve been winning campaigns before your father had learned to clean horses.’

‘Maybe so, sire, but the nature of war has changed over the past hundred years. Maybe what this war really needs is someone who can come up with a strategy that’s not written in an ancient text.’

That silenced him for a moment. He thought a little and returned to verbal fencing.

‘So, tell me this “original” plan of yours; the one that has no precedent. Has it even been tested in battle?’

‘Let me answer your questions one by one. Yes, it’s original. No, it’s not mine. No, it hasn’t been studied at military colleges. And last, it’s not
a
formation. It’s formations, actually. Two of them together.’

‘Two? Do you know how hard it is to get soldiers to make one formation, much less switch to another? Two formations in one day? Can you hear yourself talk?’

‘Two formations, sire. Both of them fighting at the same time.’

That got his attention. He motioned me to sit next to him. From the folds of his dhoti, he removed a small apple, which he cut with a small knife and popped a slice in his mouth and offered me a piece.

We spoke till late that night. And when I left, we were not friends, but we were no longer enemies.

Someone was sitting on a chair outside my tent, draped in a shawl. He was trying unsuccessfully to stay awake. His head lolled to the side, his back relaxed and he nearly fell off the chair. He corrected his posture and sat upright again, shaking sleep out of his head.

I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder. It was Laxman.

He got up hastily, ‘Sorry, sire, I didn’t see you coming.’

‘Why are you here so late, putra?’

‘Nothing, sire. I wanted to talk, if you’re not tired.’

‘Not at all. Come.’

We went into my tent and I poured a hot honey decoction in brass tumblers for both of us. I sat at my writing desk while he pulled a chair next to me and occupied it. He came to the point, ‘Sire, I want to fight with the Samsaptakas tomorrow. I can’t speak of it to Father because he’ll tell me to follow my battle orders. A word from you could perhaps…’

‘Perhaps?’

‘Well, maybe convince him otherwise.’

I suddenly felt very tired. I didn’t want to hear about battle anymore. Placements, formations, numbers, deployments.

‘I’ll think about it. You fought today, didn’t you?’

‘Yes sire.’

‘And?’

‘I killed two chariot warriors. Panchala, I think.’

Why the Samsaptakas?’

He took a deep breath before he said the next words, ‘I’ll have a better chance of finding Arjuna with them.’

To think that he could match Arjuna when Bhishma, Bhagadatta, Shalya and Drona hadn’t! I was too tired to shout at him or smack him with my sandal.

‘Arjuna? Wait in line. There are at least a hundred better warriors ahead of you who would be glad for a duel with him. Myself included.’

‘I didn’t mean to suggest…’

‘I know. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting the glory of his blood on your hands either. But you’ll have to wait for your turn. When all of us have failed you will have your chance.’

He pursed his lips, nodded and left with a cold ‘Thank you, sire’.

I soaked a piece of linen in some water and put it on my eyes.

How did it ever come to this?

Ah, yes.

Lady Kunti had asked to see me on the day before I left for the war. We would meet at a temple in the evening. Neutral ground.

I went out of curiousity. It couldn’t be a trap. The Pandavas would never use their mother as bait for an assassination. They’d be laughed out of Bharatvarsha.

The temple was an old stone structure dedicated to the Sun God. The evening prayers had just been completed and the priests were finishing for the day. She sat waiting for me on the temple steps.

I offered my namaskaram and got to the point.

‘You asked me here, Lady Kunti. What can I do for you?’

She looked at my face for a long time.

‘Putra,’ she said at last.

I bowed my head.

‘Radheya, you are my son.’

Had the old lady gone senile?

‘I know, I know. It’s a little late to be telling you this. But now is as good a time as any. You were born to me. The son of…well, a king. Let’s leave it at that. How can I prove it? Your father must have told you that he found you in a red-coloured box, wearing golden earrings. Did he not? I had bundled you in a gold cloth as well.’

She continued, ‘You have two birthmarks. One on your forearm as anyone can see. And the other just below your navel.’

She was right. Both about how Father had found me and my birthmarks. She could have got the information on the birthmarks from any number of women in Hastinapura, but the stuff about my birth was something only Father knew.

Her spies were good.

Or she was telling the truth.

I sat down a little distance from her.

‘Okay, you seem to know a lot about me. If what you say is true, what do you want from me…Mother?’

She sighed.

‘I didn’t expect you to take this seriously. I just want you to know that I am sorry for abandoning you, putra. I don’t expect you to feel any love for me. But I want to let you know that the house of the Pandavas is yours whenever you choose to come to it.’

The words were in my head, but they took some time coming down out of my mouth.

‘Do my brothers know?’

‘No one knows, except your foster father Adiratha, whom I swore to secrecy, my brother Vidura and Grandsire Bhishma.’

Perfect. My now foster father was not alive, and I was not on talking terms with Grandsire. We had clashed a number of times in the lead up to the battle over minor issues. Finally, his stubbornness to listen to my point of view had led me to remove myself from the field of battle as long as he was on it.

‘Mother’ continued, ‘I was not married. As you know, to have a child out of wedlock is unacceptable. I was young and only looking to protect myself. Adiratha offered to take you off my hands.’

‘He told me he found me floating in the Yamuna. I had always found it a little hard to believe.’

She went quiet again.

Finally she started.