Karna's Wife (19 page)

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Authors: Kavita Kane

BOOK: Karna's Wife
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‘I wouldn’t force you to stay here against your wishes,’ he said hoarsely. ‘Strange, that’s what I felt too, but oh, so differently!’ his voice was dead, his eyes lifeless. ‘I had this horrible image in my mind at the time—it wasn’t Draupadi whom Dushasana was stripping but you! In that huge hall with all those people there, I suddenly saw that it was you who was being assaulted, not Draupadi. It was you who was molested, not Draupadi. It was you who shrieked for help, I could hear only your voice screaming in agony. And that was when I regained my sanity but it was too late! I was lost! I was worse than the worst. I was doomed!’

He had sunk down at her feet, his face buried in his hands. He was crying painfully with deep sobs that tore his chest. The sound was heart-wrenching. ‘Draupadi deserves her revenge; and I deserve the death she has cursed me with.’

Uruvi stepped away from him and put her hands to her ears to shut out the painful sobs and the terrible words. Blindly turning away, she collapsed on the bed, tears streaming, wishing for the morning to dawn and whisk her away from the enclosing darkness.

Draupadi’s Revenge

‘I will slay Duryodhana and Dushasana, Arjuna will slay Karna and Sahadeva will slay Shakuni, that gambler with dice. I also repeat in this assembly these proud words which the gods will assuredly make good: if ever we engage in battle with the Kurus, I will slay this wretched Duryodhana in battle with my mace, and when he lies prostrate on the ground, I will place my foot on his head. As for the other wicked person, Dushasana, who is audacious in speech, I will drink his blood like a lion!’

This terrible oath of Bhima was not only the words of an avenging man, it was a war cry signalling the beginning of the annihilation of the Pandavas’ enemies. His oath resounded through the city of Indraprastha as the Pandavas prepared to leave for their exile the next morning. Having losing Indraprastha in the game of dice, the Pandavas were to go into exile for thirteen years in the forest. Duryodhana had shrewdly made the last year of the exile all the more difficult for his cousins. In the thirteenth year, they had to remain incognito, else they would have to go back into exile for another thirteen years.

The Pandavas and Kunti were shocked to see the visitor who had come to their palace that morning. Kunti was about to step forward to greet the unexpected guest, when Arjuna, his face flushed with rising fury, strode towards the silent figure, with a deep frown.

‘What have you come here for? How dare you come here!’ he barked. He had gone pale with anger. ‘Leave! Leave before you are rudely shown the door!’

It was Uruvi. She had decided she had to meet one person before she left for Pukeya. And she knew that person would not welcome her. Yet, a meeting was essential, however much Draupadi resented her. Draupadi was not to be seen in the room, but Uruvi’s eyes frantically searched for her. She knew she would not be welcome but she had not anticipated such virulent hostility. She shivered, but before she could utter a word of explanation, Arjuna erupted, ‘You have the gall to come here after what your husband has done! Get out, Uruvi, leave at once. You lost your respect in this family a long time ago, but after what happened yesterday, you and your husband are my sworn enemies. Go!’

Yudhishthira and Bhima were too stunned to react to Arjuna’s burst of brutal words. Uruvi begged, ‘Please no, hear me out…!’

A sharp voice broke through her panic. ‘Arjuna! Stop it. Stop it at once!’ Kunti’s sharp words were like a whiplash. ‘Is that the way you treat a guest? How dare you talk to her in that manner?’ Kunti turned upon him angrily. ‘Is this how you treat a lady? And you talk of the behaviour of others!’

‘Ma, after what happened yesterday, I am being fair and decent. You forget how Karna treated Draupadi!’

Uruvi paled and saw Kunti visibly flinch.

‘That doesn’t justify what you are doing!’ snapped Kunti. ‘You call yourself a great warrior, but you could muster enough courage to abuse a defenceless, pregnant woman. Is that chivalry?’ her voice was dangerously soft. ‘And what wrong did Karna say? That a woman with more than four husbands is a public woman? Our law states that, Arjuna. Did you know that I, too, had argued on the same assertion used by Karna? When your father, King Pandu, requested me to seek the divine blessing of a fourth god to provide him another son, I had cited a similar definition of a whore to your father—a woman who has more than four husbands. Be it your mother, or your wife Draupadi, the definition sticks.’

Arjuna was shocked into an aggrieved silence. Before an upset Kunti could utter any more angry words, Uruvi interposed hastily. ‘Please, Ma, don’t be annoyed!’ Uruvi beseeched, taking the old lady’s hands in hers. ‘I don’t want to cause more trouble. I came to see you before you left for the forest. I had to meet you. I need your pardon. I beg your forgiveness for what happened to your sons and Draupadi. I am sorry, I am so very sorry…’ she cried, sinking to her knees. She touched Kunti’s feet, her face wet with tears. ‘I know my words can never be enough. They cannot undo what you have gone through. I ask for forgiveness. From each one of you! Please!’

In utmost humility, Uruvi bent forward to touch Yudhishthira’s feet.

Arjuna controlled his anger and said in a gentler tone, ‘What are you asking forgiveness for?
You
haven’t done anything wrong!’

‘But my husband has wronged you,’ she whispered, her face downcast with shame, her eyes pleading.

‘And for that he will pay dearly, Uruvi, whatever my mother’s justifications are,’ Arjuna retorted, his tone harsh, his face set. His eyes were flashing again and his pale face whitened in his emotion. ‘Thirteen years from now, I shall kill him. When I return from our exile, I shall kill Karna in battle,’ he swore, his face a mask of cold hatred. ‘Your child will be an orphan thirteen years from now, and you a widow!’ he pronounced with freezing finality, each vicious word slicing through her, predicting the days of doom that lurked ahead.

The silence was heavy with menace. Uruvi looked at Arjuna listlessly and said, ‘Yes, I know you will kill Karna one day. All of us will have to pay the price for the shame at Hastinapur. Bhima has vowed to kill Duryodhana and Dushasana. But how many more are fated to die with them? What sort of war will this be?’

‘Stop this drivel!’ cried Kunti. ‘There will be no war, no killings. Haven’t we gone through the worst already? How can we talk about war and death so easily? Duryodhana and Dushasana will pay for the humiliation of Draupadi but not by death. They are my nephews and Karna is my…’ she stopped short abruptly, ‘…my Uruvi’s husband. He is like my son.’

‘Oh, he’s like a son, is he?’ a shrill voice interrupted the heated exchange of words. Uruvi turned around slowly to see Draupadi enter the room. She quivered with wrath as she said, ‘That same son, who publicly called your daughter-in-law a whore in the presence of elders and so many others! Who said that the Pandavas were all like sesame seeds removed from the kernel, and that I should now find some other husbands! Are you going to forgive him and your darling nephews for what they did to me that day? Answer me, Ma. I deserve justice. And I want revenge. And if war is the answer, so be it. Is that too much to ask? Is it, O powerful Bhima? Is it, O brave Arjuna?’ Her scornful questions were punctuated with venom. Then, with one bitter look, she haughtily flounced from the room.

Uruvi appealed to Kunti and Arjuna. ‘Please let me talk to her,’ she pleaded. ‘I promise not to upset her. She needs to be consoled, or her rage will take all of us into devastation and disaster. Let me bear the brunt of her fury.’

For the first time, Uruvi saw Arjuna’s face soften and he nodded his head. Uruvi swiftly followed Draupadi to the inside chamber. Draupadi was weeping, tears of pain, sadness, anger and scorn coursing down her face. ‘What do you want?’ she hurled at her fiercely. ‘Leave me with some dignity…go away!’

Uruvi could not look at her for long. The hurt and anguish in Draupadi’s eyes was more than she could take. This was not the haughty, regal queen Uruvi had seen at the Rajasuya yagna. This woman, with her face swollen with crying, was cowed down and broken. In the grip of turbulent emotions, her entire body trembled, her face white.

‘I want your help,’ Uruvi said simply.

‘My help?’ questioned Draupadi with a harsh laugh. ‘I thought I was the one who needed that! How would I help
you
?’

‘Please help me. Help us to get out of this hopeless situation,’ she entreated, swallowing her pride. Help us get back the life we all had, give us some way out…some hope…help me to rid myself of this feeling of doom, this hatred, anger and loathing in my heart—and in the hearts of so many others,’ entreated Uruvi. ‘I need you to make me strong once again. Draupadi, you are the only one who can stop the insanity that is about to begin—it will destroy all of us eventually!’

‘How can I save anyone when I couldn’t save myself? Who can salvage
my
lost honour?’ Draupadi flung her words at Uruvi viciously. ‘Who can give me back my prestige? You ask me to be a saviour when I am the victim. For all I know, you may be secretly revelling in this situation. Is it your crowning moment to see me sobbing and weak before you, like it was for your husband?’ her voice broke. ‘What more do you want from me?’

Timidly, Uruvi stretched out her hand and touched Draupadi’s quaking shoulder. ‘I want your forgiveness.’

‘Never!’ she said violently, shaking off Uruvi’s hand from her shoulder. ‘Are they so scared of what they started that they have sent you as a peace emissary? Let all those who made me suffer burn in the hell of hate, pain and humiliation, as I am burning now. I shall make each one of them endure the worst.’ Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes full of grief. ‘The assault was theirs; vengeance is mine. You cannot snatch it from me with your righteous pleading.’

‘I cannot offer you words of comfort. No words can soothe the torment you are going through. The situation has no solution,’ said Uruvi. ‘But I feel responsible…’ her voice trailed off uncertainly but a moment later, she gathered her courage to say what she wanted to. ‘I feel responsible for what Karna did—and he did the unpardonable. I am sorry, I am dreadfully sorry.’

Suddenly, Draupadi’s haggard, tear-streaked face lit up with a smile, and at that moment, her courage shone. ‘You need not be sorry, I am ready to fight back! I have to, my determination is my lifeline. It’s my sustenance!’

Uruvi was moved. ‘There’s no doubt about it,’ she said. ‘You are a very brave woman.’

‘You call it courage? I think it’s the only way I can survive,’ said Draupadi. ‘We have to deal with the consequences of what happened on that fateful day. Is there any other way out?’

There was no way out, and both the women knew it. Uruvi dreaded it while Draupadi seemed to welcome it with hungry vengeance. The tragedy which was to follow her humiliation at Hastinapur could no longer be averted. It was a definitive moment. Uruvi turned to look at Draupadi, and she, feeling her eyes upon her, turned too. There was a small harsh smile twisting her lips.

‘They tried to break me in every possible way,’ she said, her eyes far away and vacant, yet seeing each moment of that day. ‘I couldn’t believe it when Prathikami, the charioteer, came to me with the message that day. My husband had wagered and lost everything—even me, his wife—and upon Duryodhana’s command, I was ordered to appear at the court as a maidservant to the Kuru princes. I was born to the great King Drupad, I am the daughter-in-law of the famous King Pandu, I am married to the Pandavas who are powerful warriors and I have given birth to sons who will be heroes. How can I be a servant?’ The arrogance was back in her voice but just for a fleeting moment. Draupadi turned to Uruvi, her face ravaged with pain. ‘Which man would pledge his wife, Uruvi?’ she cried. ‘Did he not have anything else to pawn? He didn’t! He had lost his kingdom, his wealth, his brothers, his pride and himself. And finally—me!’ she said tremulously.

She went on, her words harsh, her face hard. ‘I told the charioteer-messenger, Prathikami, to return to court and ask Duryodhana a question: if Yudhishthira had lost himself first, he could not offer me as a stake. I told him to ask if King Yudhishthira first offered himself or me as a stake. I demanded an answer and I got it, but how! Duryodhana ordered Dushasana to drag me to the court. To my utter shock, he forced his entry into my room and said mockingly, “You are now ours!” I could only stare at him in horror. I was almost in a state of undress, clad in just one piece of cloth…’

Uruvi winced. Women wore a single sari only when they were menstruating, and they remained inside the more private section of the living quarters during those four to five days. The Kuru prince, with his brazen intrusion, had broken all possible barriers of decency. ‘He grabbed me by my hair, which was loose down my back, and started dragging me all the way to the royal hall. I tried to wrench free and run away, desperately pulling away towards Queen Gandhari’s room where I could get refuge, but I couldn’t. He dragged me by my hair right up to the court, and then, in front of everybody, threw me on the floor,’ her voice was now flat, devoid of emotion.

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