Natyam | A Mahabharata Fiction

20.

Nakul always liked to joke that the Pandavas were never blessed with girls because they would grow up to be no better than boys.

It was sad, however, the lack of girls in the family. We were all delighted and yet slightly disappointed when Subhadra gave birth.

So there we have it. There were seven sons in the Pandava clan. And they were growing up, slowly and surely. Amar, just like his father, was the middle child, with three elder and younger brothers.

I am happy to report that there was no divide between the seven brothers, much unlike their fathers and their cousins. All of us, as parents, made the effort to remove any divide that could have fostered.

A decade went by like that. A whirl of happiness and laughter. Some time in those years, I'd hosted a small party with all of my co-wives. Arjun's wives.
We were a small contingent, I must say, I was very impressed. It was very entertaining as all the princesses flittered about, blushing and making small talk. Even Draupadi and Subhadra attended. I know what you are thinking. I should have hated these women. These women who my husband had married. Maybe even taken to bed.

But I was in love. My husband loved me back. Was I to hate these women or pity them? My husband stayed with me for most of the time, walked with me and supported me in all that I did.  And I suppose, there was bound to be a spike of jealousy, of poison in these wives too. It's only natural. So I made peace with the looks I received in that affair.

I made peace the way a tide breaks on the shore, crumbling at first, and then engulfing the land.

Regardless, the hardest part of those years was sending Amar to gurukul.

But it was necessary. That was what we told ourselves when we took our ten year old boy to Vyasa for his education.

The night before he left, Arjun and I shed some tears before we went to sleep. And sometime in the soft hours of darkness, a sleepy Amar stumbled into bed between us, hugging us tightly.

The chariot ride to Vyasa's ashram was chatty as Amar blabbered away. He was scared and thrilled! Arjun and I both listened to him, warm smiles on our faces. We offered him small pieces of advice about what to do and what not to do.

When we finally reached the ashram, we saw Vyasa emerge from his simple hut in the forest. Goodness, the sage was like the forest in human form—wild and calm simultaneously. Dazzling and yet, ancient. As old as Time.

We exchanged pleasantries before Amar crossed the threshold between us and Vyasa. He touched our feet, walked to the hut, turned behind to look at us one last time.

Arjun was going to cry any moment. So I held his hand and squeezed it as our son looked our way. He managed a smile. A small smile.

Amar smiled, waved and stepped inside. And that was the last I saw of my son for eight years.

I would see him again.

I remember quickly brushing off the thought and turning to Vyasa.

"I have a request, Guruji." I spoke lowly as Arjun walked back to the chariot.

The sage stared at me.

"I want my son to receive the education that makes him realize what life and dharma is for the lower classes. For the people he will rule over after my father retires. I want him to learn discretion and that sometimes," I breathed, "sometimes, good men must break the rules to establish righteousness. I want him to learn that morality is a fickle thing and that it is only, only a gift when there is the hand of mercy in a ruler."

Vyasa gave me a small smile after my speech.

"You seem to already know what it is you want for your son, Rajkumari. Why send him to me?" He asked, peering.

"You are the teacher, Guruji. Who can match your skills?"

"I think you could raise a good king, Mrinali."

I replied smoothly, "I thank you for the compliment. Regardless, education must be done the right way. I trust Amar in your hands."

"And I thank you for your faith."

I took his leave. We returned home, silent, hand in hand.

I remember Arjun's deafening silence as he rode back. He was, almost always, high on life–awake and aware to anything and everything. Bubbling with energy. Alive. But his energy was low when we returned home. Muted. It made me curl with discomfort.

Taking his hand in mine, I told him, "It was necessary, you know that, right?"

He inhaled a brave breath. "I do. Nihaar has daughters and if the monarchy of Vrikesh is to survive, Amar must be groomed to take the throne." He looked at me as I nodded.

"Our boy will be king, priye." I smiled.

"Yes. Yes, he will. Let's hope he is a good warrior too."

"Oh, he will be. Even better than you are!"

Arjun glared at me and then laughed. I beamed.

"You can be so unkind, priye." He smiled, leaning into me.

"And don't you forget it!"

*****

Upon entering the main palace of Indraprastha, we were bombarded by news. I admit, we were both a little raw after our journey so that was not the first reaction we were expecting upon our arrival.

When we paid our respects to Yudhisthira, he told us the news. "We have been invited to Hastinapur."

My brows furrowed. "Why?'" I asked before Arjun could.

Yudhisthira gave me a look of disdain but did not admonish me. "I have no idea. However, I think it unwise to decline an invitation from our elders. Besides, Maa is there too."

"Are the women invited too?" Arjun asked.

"The entire family is. Only Subhadra might not come."

So it was decided for us. Arjun and I nodded and took his leave, vanishing into our palace for the rest of the day.

*****
How terribly sorry I am! Unfortunately, some circumstances arose that prevented me from writing and uploading but Mrinali is back and the Mahanharata is teetering at its precipice!

Do vote and comment, let me know what you think of the chapter :)

Love.