Natyam | A Mahabharata Fiction

36.

Arjun visited the grandsire with Amar and I in tow. The night was alive with grief.

I remember scowling at the bed of arrows that supported Bhishma Pitamah.

"Ah!" The old man exclaimed. For someone who was so close to dying, he seemed uncannily jovial. "My dear grandson and his family. Mrinali, my dear, how are you?" And. . ." That's when he spotted Amar, the great-grandchild he was yet to formally meet.

"Hello, my boy." He greeted, softly.

Amar stepped forward and knelt before the family patriarch. "It's an honour to finally meet you, Pitamah. I've only heard stories about you."

I studied the grandfather's face, searching for some reaction that he wouldn't express verbally.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you too, Rajkumar Amar. I've heard you fared well under Vyasa's tutelage. And look at you, you have your father's face and your mother's sharp features. Bless you." The old man sighed.

Amar gave him a small smile which was reciprocated. Meanwhile, Arjun and I watched over them like hawks.

"Is there anything I can get you? Food, water?" I asked him quietly.

"No, Mrinali. Thank you."

Suddenly, Arjun fell to the ground, kneecaps thudding against the earth. A sad collapse. He gripped his grandfather's hand. "I had to, Pitamah. I had to–you know, I would never–"

"I know, my dear boy, I know. Listen to me," he tugged Arjun closer, "you did your duty and nothing more. That is what I've taught you and you've seen it through. That's all that matters. The rest? It's all just detail." He chuckled, amused by life's mysteries and happenings.

Arjun nodded, tears in his eyes. He stayed there, kneeling before the man who had loved him and his family for all of their lives. Then, he got up and we bid him farewell.

"Can't we shift him to an actual bed?" I quietly asked Arjun on the way back.

"We asked. He refused vehemently." Arjun murmured.

On our way back, we crossed paths with Karna. I saw him and quietly told Arjun, "Why don't you spend some time with your son? I'll be right back."

Arjun seemed to be too grief-stricken to respond. Silently, Amar took over and I met my friend.

Angaraj Karna had been sitting out of the battle for ten days. It had made him prickly and impatient, rearing for a chance on the field. He'd been held back by Pitamah who fussed and said he wouldn't fight for Duryodhana if Karna entered the battlefield too.

"Where are you off to?" I asked him.

He gave me a sullen look. "To pay my respects to the grandsire."

I stood before him. "How are you?"

"Annoyed, but saddened by today's events."

I nodded. 

"Oh, by the way, I have something to show you." Karna remarked.

This made me ears perk up. I looked at him expectantly.

My dear sakha inhaled sharply. "Now, do not be alarmed by what I am going to show you." He declared darkly before taking off the robe that covered the vast expanse of his chest. And what I saw, stunned me into silence.

Bandages. An entire roll of white bandages clung to his chest. In the centre, a dark maroon colour bloomed under the white cloth. Hesitantly, I walked around him. Only to find that the injury extended to his back too. It looked so bad, it felt like his skin had been ripped off too.