A Different Path

Daughter

The day finally came and hundreds of citizens gathered in the streets to catch a glimpse of Krishna's chariot. Men and women had their arms full of flowers to be rained at Krishna, musicians played instruments that lulled the city with their melody and children climbed the highest trees to see him much to the chagrin of their mothers. Ashwatthama, Bhadran and several others had gone to welcome him right at the city outskirts as was custom. Karna stayed behind with the rest of the noblemen who had thankfully been so enamoured by Krishna that they had completely forgotten his presence.

He watched as hundreds of carriages entered the main city and behind them was the five point chariot that carried Krishna, Ashwatthama and other dignitaries from Dwarka. With his palms folded, Krishna graciously accepted the welcome that was bestowed to him by Ashwatthama's subjects. His smile was sweeter than the sweetest nectarines, his face glowed with life and joy and his eyes shone with an unworldly radiance as if all the mysteries of the universe rested in them. Enchanted by his sanctity, dazzled by his spirit, heads bowed in reverence to him and he blessed each one of them.

When he finally reached him, Karna joined his hands in deference, but Krishna clasped them with his own and shook his head. A moment of stillness stretched for eternity in which all Karna did was stare at Krishna's eyes that shone with deific clarity, reminding him of his Guru Parashuram. How had Krishna achieved that level of sagacity that had taken his mentor decades to earn? That too at such a young age? What was it that he knew that the rest of the world did not? Before each could say a word to another, Krishna was swept away by hordes of courtiers to the royal dining hall where a state lunch had been organized in his honor. His devotees and the rest of Ashwatthama's noblemen followed behind him, still in awe, leaving him alone with his friend on the palace steps.

"I had never expected that such a day would come again. Do you remember how Duryodhana had insulted him when he had come with the offer of reconciliation?", Ashwatthama whispered in his ear.

Karna nodded. As if anyone present in that assembly would ever forget.

"Come along, my presence is necessary for the banquet to commence."

"You go. I will visit in the evening."

Before Ashwatthama could argue Karna slipped away, taking the route back to his guest house. He knew it was impolite to not partake in a banquet organized in someone's honour, but he had an inkling that Krishna would understand. He had never been very keen on such things, and Duryodhana would more or less have to drag him to these useless ceremonies where he barely mingled with anyone. Not that anyone was particularly interested, he was after all, despite whatever Duryodhana may say, a charioteer's son.

He had almost reached the guesthouse when a woman approached him. Her face shrouded in a ghunghat, she fell down at his feet and asked for his blessings. Bewildered, he blessed the child and startled when he saw her trembling, washing his feet with her tears.

"Child, who are you?", he asked.

The woman stood up, removed her ghunghat and stared at him with her dark, brown orbs, looking oddly familiar. Her lower lip trembled and her face was set in love and admiration, pure emotions that one sees very rarely in life.