Karna stared at the clouds creeping in from the right, amorphous and heavy, cutting off the sunlight and engulfing the world in darkness. The air sizzled with electricity and the sky looked ready to crack, roar and unleash its wrath upon them. A frightful thunderstorm was on its way. The trees swayed left and right; the wind picking up speed even as hapless servants hurried around him, trying to close the gigantic doors and windows before the gale disrupted even a single hair of the courtiers standing around him. He stepped away from the window and glanced at the magnificent courtroom, absolutely resplendent with the golden throne occupying the position of honor on the elevated dais. His gaze fell upon the high-vaulted ceiling with wooden beams from wherein hung a majestic glass chandelier right in the center. The courtroom was certainly breathtaking though he wondered whether the man who occupied the treasured throne cared much for it. He doubted his friend who had borne acute hardship early on in his life would be much affected by such ostentatious display of wealth and affluence meant to intimidate every visitor.
Breathing out a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, knowing that the gaze of everyone in the chamber was upon him. The lack of subtlety was surprising considering this was a courtroom and not the battlefield. Here power was demonstrated not through superiority in combat and warfare, but through careful and meticulous mind games that he found more tiring than shooting arrows in the same position all night. Swords were substituted by slander, maces with malice and daggers exchanged for deceit. The clash of ethics and ambition was commonplace, and it was often fun to see which one finally won in the end. He remembered his own stint as the ruler of Anga, watching the noblemen in bemusement as they fought to be in the king's good graces. It was a relief when they realized that he would not be persuaded by spurious fawning, but only by the strength of their character.
He turned to the chief advisor to the King, an old beefy man with a mane of silvery hair that ran to the middle of his chest. Bhadran was dressed in fine yellow silk and seemed eager to please him despite the fact that he was no longer a king. Heck, he was actively despised throughout the entire Bharatvarsh, mocked and ridiculed for trying to break through the chains of centuries old caste system that had weighed down on his shoulders for as long as he remembered.
"Will it take him long?"
He had meant it to sound cool and nonchalant, but the words came out in a muffled garble, washed with emotion he hadn't learnt how to hide.
The Chief Advisor sighed and adjusted his turban, sneaking a glance at the dark gloomy weather outside. "His Majesty went hunting with his bodyguards deep into the hinterlands which is why it took so long to reach him. He should arrive in a few minutes."
Karna interlocked his fingers firmly, trying to ignore the pounding in his heart or the fact that no matter what he did, his hands wouldn't stop shaking. A feeling of weakness, suppression and nausea hit him hard, and it took every bit of self-respect to not break down then and there. He wasn't even sure he would be welcomed. It wouldn't surprise him if he wasn't. Judging by the way things had unfolded after his departure he was convinced that his friend would certainly harbour some resentment for him. For even though he was a wise, learned man, Ashwatthama, like the rest of them, was also a slave to his heart. It would take a special kind of discipline and control to completely detach one's mind from humane emotions, and he doubted anyone, even his friend could possibly accomplish a feat like that.
Thunder growled behind him and he could hear the soft pattering of rain against the glass windows, their melody soothing his frayed nerves. Just then a strange thought crossed his mind. What if Ashwatthama didn't want to meet him? Why would anyone go hunting in this weather anyways?
He imagined Ashwatthama relaxing in his private chambers when the guards rushed in relaying the news of his visit and Ashwatthama shaking his head, asking them to come up with a decent, believable excuse. And all the ministers and courtesans, staring at him, laughing inwardly that it was taking him this long to get the hint. Maybe all this was simply a ploy to get him to leave.
He shook his head firmly, dismissing the impossible claims from his mind. No matter what had transpired, Ashwatthama would never behave in such a repugnant manner. Surely his friend would, even in the throes of abject fury, hear him out, if not for the sake of friendship then out of sheer decency.
"Angraj, please can I get you anything?", The Chief advisor asked, his voice deep and reverent. When Karna raised an eyebrow, the man flushed and looked away, realizing his error a second later.
"You may address me by my name. And thank you, but I do not require anything. ", He replied. He had relinquished kingship a year ago. Now, he was a nobody. He had thought his cheap and tattered clothes were testimony enough of his fallen status. Clearly, he was mistaken.
The man's lips twitched, and he exhaled in disappointment, eyes focused intently on him. Karna saw pity coupled with awe in them and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He wondered what he had done to deserve such consideration.
The whispers and murmurs came to a sudden halt and Karna swiveled in his chair to find Ashwatthama standing at the doorway, wide eyed, staring at him in anguish. He stood up, trying to speak, but the emotion rising at the back of his throat wouldn't let him. Slowly, as the courtroom watched, Ashwatthama neared him, slack jawed, chest heaving, eyes searching for an answer. Karna's gut wrenched with a spasm of anxiety at the intensity of his stare and the emotion that wrecked his features. The Chief Advisor left his side and went up to his king, even as the whispering started again, but Ashwatthama raised his hand and immediately silenced the room. Karna had never seen such raw feeling on his friend's face before. He looked positively distraught, grappling with his emotions.
"Karna", he mumbled, sounding terribly weak.
"Come to my private chambers. We will talk there.".
He headed out and Karna followed silently behind him, both men ignoring the dumbfounded looks on the faces of the courtiers who broke into feverish speculation the minute they left the room.
They crossed the hallway, ascended a staircase and entered a large room, grand and magnificent as befitting a king. The servants bowed at them, and Ashwatthama waved them off requesting that they be left alone. Karna took this time to glance at the room and couldn't help but smile at the lustrous bookcase wherein lay a large collection of manuscripts and ancient texts, looked after with much diligence.
"What is it?", Ashwatthama asked, noticing his smile as he removed his gold crown and placed it on the wooden side table thoughtlessly.
Karna flourished a hand at the bookcase, "Glad to see some things never change."
Ashwatthama nodded with an expression of relief that quickly morphed into pain. Then suddenly, without any warning or sign of his intention, his friend lurched forward enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug. For a moment Karna stood frozen in stunned disbelief before hugging him back, feeling some of his apprehensions ebb away. He heard Ashwatthama whispering against his shoulder and felt the tears on his angavastram.
"You selfish, stupid, pathetic excuse of a friend!", he choked out and Karna grimaced at the obvious hurt in his voice.
"I am so sorry..."he trailed off. There was so much to apologize for he didn't know where to begin. "I missed you so much."
Ashwatthama pulled away, wiping away at his eyes furiously before gesturing him to take a seat at the round table near them. Both men took a minute to compose themselves, watching as the sky flashed and roared and the rain fell down harder, making it impossible to see outside. Ashwathamma walked up to a metal cabinet and brought out a bottle of sura, the light from the flickering candles making the sura glisten like liquid gold.
"I'd rather not.", Karna said, eyeing the bottle cautiously.
"Yes, you will.", Ashwatthama replied in a voice that bore no argument.
He poured them both two glasses and pushed one towards him. Karna sighed, then swallowed the drink in one swift gulp before setting the glass down hard on the table. He considered having another. The alcohol had calmed his nerves and dissipated some of his anxiety. Nodding at the bottle, he ignored the mischievous smirk on his friend's face.
"How are you?", He asked after taking another swig.
Ashwatthama shrugged casually and finished off his drink. "I am fine."
"You ordered them not to disturb us."
He raised a sculpted eyebrow at him. "I did."
"So you don't have to lie."
His expression changed. He leaned back and stretched his legs. "Does it really matter?"
"Yes. It matters to me whether my friend is doing okay."
"Heavy words from the man who left without a warning."
"You pretend as if you don't know why."
"I don't. I am aware of the multitude of reasons that must have assaulted you when you picked up your bow to aim at any of the Pandavas but I don't know which one ultimately persuaded you to drop them.
"It was all of them. And none of them."
Aswatthama guffawed but without any real amusement. "I didn't expect you to become so cryptic."
"I didn't expect that you would cocoon yourself in this grand mansion. Yet here we are."
Ashwathamma closed his eyes and bit down his lower lip. Karna drank the sura waiting for him to speak. It didn't take long.
"I ordered the guards to not let him enter the city when I came back from Hastinapur. Not that he would have but you know........just in case. My mother fell sick but I couldn't.....go back. I sent the best physicians and nurses to look after her and she recovered well. He's been sending letters ever since."
"What does he have to say?"
"Don't know. Haven't opened any."
"Does he even know the reason for your anger?"
"I highly doubt it."
They spent the next few minutes in silence. Karna's heart ached for his friend who had done everything humanly possible to please his father only for the said father to not display an iota of pride for him. While others played in the sunlight, a young Ashwatthama meticulously read through sacred texts and passages, absorbing the knowledge that was the foundation of his sagacity. He toiled hard to gain mastery in all forms of weaponry- swords, daggers, spears, javelins and archery, of course. Barely eating, barely sleeping when he mastered a new astra he ran to his father, giddy with excitement waiting for the recognition that never came. Because Arjuna had already learnt that a week ago. And besides, he was Drona's son, so naturally he would be good at it. Stop wasting time with Duryodhana and keep pace with Arjuna, his father would advise him. Wiping away his tears, Ashwatthama would do as he was told. Until the day he couldn't bear it anymore.
Suddenly, Aswatthama slammed his fist into the table and shook his head. "Forget it. I don't even care anymore."
"I completely believe you."
Ashwatthama laughed again, but it was an empty laugh full of bitterness. Karna placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Despite everything, you know he cares for you. He just doesn't know how to express it."
Aswatthama rolled his eyes. Drona was very good at expressing how skilled Arjuna was, how quickly he learnt everything and how proud he was of his favorite student. His face brightened every time he met Arjuna, and he never spared a chance to exalt his virtues and dexterity until an embarrassed Arjuna requested him to stop. All eyes were glued upon the gracious guru and his talented student. It was only Karna who saw the obvious hurt on Ashwatthama's face that he tried to hide under a smile whilst he listened to his father go on and on about Arjun capabilities. Sometimes Karna thought that Drona should have simply adopted Arjun and thrown out Ashwatthama to spare him anymore pain. It would have been a favour.
"Let's just stop talking about all of this.", Ashwatthama declared.
"Not talking about it is not going to make it go away. At least read what he has to say."
"No! I can't go through all that again. And why are you defending him so much? As far as I remember you couldn't care less about him!"
"I don't care about him. I care about you."
Drona really hated him, which he made apparent with his caustic jeers and snide remarks targeting everything from his caste to his capabilities, taking immense pleasure in belittling a man who had once begged him for tutelage. He laughed whenever anyone compared him with his star student because Karna wasn't even worthy of licking the feet of the mighty Arjun. Drona's insults hit him harder because unlike others who considered him a fraud at best, Drona thought of him as an aberration. Something that should have never existed in the first place. Something that should have been discarded the minute it was born. He wondered if Drona knew how close this particular jibe had been to reality. Sometimes he believed that Drona was right. He really shouldn't be in this world.
"Karna, trust me, it's better this way."
"This way? How is isolating yourself till the end of your days going to help? "
"Says who? The guy who disappeared after betraying his best friend!"
Karna felt like someone had stabbed him straight in the heart. Ashwatthama's irritation vanished to be replaced by genuine concern at Karna's reaction. " I didn't mean it like that...I am so sorry."
"It's alright." He answered.
"No", Ashwatthama inched closer, gazing at him with regretful eyes. "I was out of line...Please Karna, don't be upset."
"It's fine, Ashwatthama. I suppose I should prepare myself for worse."
His friend bowed his head. Even he knew that there was no point in arguing about this. "But Karna, how will you fight?...I mean it's not like either the Pandavas or Kauravas have a favorable impression of you."
"Krishna insists that he will handle everything.", Karna replied. He refused to make eye contact as he asked with palpable desperation, "How is he?"
Ashwatthama sighed heavily. He knew very well who Karna was talking about. "What do you think? When he's not drinking himself into oblivion or lashing out at anyone who dares to approach him he spends his time locked up in his room, miserable and alone, blaming himself for the death of his brothers. I wanted to stay longer but things were piling up here", Ashwatthama gesticulated.
"King Dhritarashtra sent me a letter regarding Duryodhana's failing health. He's really worried. Duryodhana refuses to listen to anyone. They don't know what to do."
Ashwatthama dropped his chin into his chest and mumbled. "The only person who could possibly get to him is you, Karna."
Karna nodded but didn't say a word. He could feel physical pain in his skull at the thought of causing so much grief to his most beloved friend. Anger and guilt bubbled in his chest and he wondered what terrible sins he had committed in his past life to warrant his absolutely pathetic existence. At times he wanted to just....well pierce his heart with a dagger and be done with it. Sure now he knew that he was Kshatriya but for the rest of the world he was still a lowly, downtrodden Suta. The label of a coward would be yet another colorful addition to all the wonderful things he had been called in his life. It wasn't half as bad as bastard.
"How about we take up your suggestion. Stop talking and get drunk?", Karna said after a while.
Ashwatthama smiled at him and raised his glass. "Sounds like a plan."