"The arrangements have been made, My Lord. Prince Nakul has taken a look at the horses and I have personally inspected all the chariots and carriages."
Arjuna nodded at his army chief and asked him to retire for the night. Tomorrow they would be headed to Hastinapura, and he wanted to make sure that the journey would be smooth. Having personally supervised the delegates regarding various areas of concern, he was sure that their visit would go as planned without any difficulties. He wished Krishna had chosen to come with them, but their maternal cousin had cited some important work and apologized for his unavailability. It was strange since Arjuna couldn't fathom what could be more important than this. But Krishna had always been this way, and he figured that his best friend would turn up when the time was right.
Leaving the large chambers reserved for security considerations, he walked past his bedroom and onto the small courtyard that opened at his balcony door. Subhadra had personally decorated it with exotic flowers brought from foreign lands that seemed to glow strangely in the translucent beauty of the moon. This will remind you of me, she had said and indeed as the intoxicating fragrance of the nearby chrysanthemums filled his nostrils, his mind shifted to his favourite wife who never ceased to amaze him despite so many years of marriage. He wished she was here but Subhadra had gone to visit her brothers at Dwarka, taking with her their daughter-in-law Uttara and grandson Parikshit. Abhimanyu had opted to stay behind to help with organising tomorrow's journey and also to be present at Hastinapura for the discussion regarding the impending war threat.
His heart ached at the thought of his talented son who had changed considerably since the Kurukshetra War. The smiles that used to come so naturally, the face that always glowed with optimism and warmth, the eyes that sparkled like diamonds all had been lost to the madness of war and the abyss of despair. Now his son walked with a limp, his eyes cold and unfeeling, burning in a way he had only seen on men who had surrendered before him.
Defeated was the term he would use for his son and he didn't know how to bring that sweet boy back, the one who used to never leave his side when he visited Subhadra in Dwarka. Now, Abhimanyu seemed to avoid him completely, answering his questions with a cold, detached look assuring him with empty words that everything was fine. Except that it wasn't.
But he knew that it wasn't just Abhimanyu who had changed so drastically, indeed all his family and friends had transformed into people he didn't know and didn't like. No one was spared from the ravages of the war, whether they were on the winning or the losing side. Or maybe in the case of Mahabharata, there were no winners and losers after all.
As day dawned upon them he shrugged off his perturbation and accompanied his brothers to their chariot, commencing their long and arduous journey to Hastinapura. From the corner of his eyes he saw Abhimanyu riding ahead with the Army chief, on the alert for anything out of the ordinary. He could hear the soft chirping of the sparrows and the lipping and gurgling of the pellucid waters of the stream flowing nearby.
It felt so unreal, all the time that had passed since the battle had ended. It felt as if this was all but a carefully crafted dream of a master illusionist and any second he would wake up to the clangor of battle conches and the shrill clashing of swords. Kurukshetra, that barren land now soaked with sweat and blood, would await him and his Gandiva, to be aimed at men who he had once considered his family.
And he would kill and kill and kill and kill until the Sun God would bid them adieu only to return the next morning heralding another day of gruesome bloodshed.
Arjuna sighed and caressed his divine bow, wanting to feel something other than the numbness that had haunted him since the declaration of Mahabharata all those months ago.
"Nakula, why is your dhoti so dirty?", Bheema asked.
"Oh, there's this new horse that Prakjit brought from the north, a white stallion that went ballistic before we were to start the journey. It took a long time to calm it down and even then it continued to kick its feet at anyone who approached it. I had to sit with it for two hours before I could get it to journey with us.", Nakula answered, sounding tired. Bheema nodded at him and turned his gaze westwards but Arjuna noticed beneath his calm eyes, the question that he had not asked, the one he wanted to ask.
Nakula, YOUR dhoti is dirty. You, who used to spend hours looking the part of a prince even when we lived in the forest, you who used to berate the servants when they forgot to clean a mere inch of dirt, you who used to shout at us when we entered our childhood cottage without washing up, why do you not care that your dhoti is dirty? Why didn't you change it? What the hell is wrong with you?
But Bheema didn't ask those questions to Nakula for the same reason Arjuna didn't ask Abhimanyu. They were both afraid of the answer.
He was glad that his father had listened to his request and not showered rain upon them. The weather was cool and pleasant, reminding him of the Himalayas where he had undertaken a grueling penance to obtain the Pashupat. He wanted to go back there, the mountains with their cool winds, rocky terrain and unyielding wildlife. That was his problem, he couldn't stay at one place for a long time.
But this wasn't the only reason why he wanted to escape to the mountains. It was more because he couldn't bear to see all the dead faces around him, with their plastic smiles that even they knew didn't fool anyone. He was a stranger to his family, and they were to him.
Hearing the koyals singing their sweet melody from atop a vakula tree, Arjuna thought about his childhood spent in the forest and the subsequent exile. He wondered, though he would never dare admit it to anyone, if it would have been better if they had stayed in the forest. Sure his honor would have been lost but at least his son, his brothers, his loved ones would have been whole.
His throat strangled at the memory of his son lying in the medical tent, broken and bleeding, his arms and legs covered in bandages. He had fallen to the floor and Sahadeva had rushed to him, assuring him that his son would live and he, unable to speak words of gratitude, had held his hand as his eyes never left Abhimanyu's still form. Then it all hit him in one single blow- rage, confusion, shock, sorrow and he could hardly breathe as the crushing weight of what had happened knocked him down again. He cried then, tears streaming down his face as the pain of a thousand poisoned arrows flooded his system.
All his pride, his vanity, his ego abandoned him in that moment, leaving him empty and he just sat there howling and grieving as others came in, some crying with him, others standing frozen not knowing what else to do. All of them were there except Krishna, who had slipped away at some time. Was it too hard for him to see Abhimanyu, his beloved nephew, in such a state? Or was it something else?
He had cradled his son's face in his hands as his other brothers had begged forgiveness, recounting all that had happened. Sorrow gave way to shock when Yudhisthira told him that it was his bitterest foe, Vasusena Karna, who had defied Duryodhana and brought Abhimanyu here. He had even stayed behind and held Abhimanyu as if he was his own child, calming him down so Vibodh and the others could operate upon him.
Arjuna could hardly believe it. Karna? The man who had all but bartered his righteousness for a golden crown, prostrating himself in pathetic servitude at his cousin's feet, supporting all his evil machinations, that man had saved his child? He was now indebted to the man who took an oath to destroy him?
Where is he, he remembered asking. Krishna entered the tent behind them, stating that Karna had left and that the War was most likely over, for after Karna's forsaking, Duryodhana would not continue the war. His brothers had remained respectfully skeptical until the royal messenger from the Kaurava camp arrived the next day, confirming Krishna's prediction. While his brothers exchanged open mouthed stares, Arjuna glanced at Krishna who had an indecipherable look on his face as he stared intensely at the message that he had taken off Bheema's hands. He sighed deeply then nodded at Yudhisthira as a signal to inform the rest of their allies about this new development.
And so King Dhritrashtra arrived at Kurukshetra formally, handing over the reins of Indraprastha which had been stolen away from them in that wretched dice game all those years ago. Duryodhana was not present, neither was Dushasan, Guru Drona, Ashwahtthama, Kripacharya or anyone who had sided with the Kauravas. Hours later, Dhristyadhuma informed them that Karna had relinquished the throne of Anga and left Kurukshetra. Duryodhana, who had been utterly and irreparably broken, hadn't left his chambers no matter how much King Dhritrashtra or his brothers begged him to and the rest of the warriors had taken refuge in their private tents some still reeling from shock, others from relief.
"Father, we will reach Hastinapur by evening. We still have 12 yojanas to cover", Abhimanyu informed him and then went straight ahead to where he was originally riding alongside the deputy army chief.
Vasusen Karna. It was because of him that his child was still alive. He still couldn't believe it though. There very few people he hated in life, As Yudhisthira always told them it was futile to hold grudges, all it did was give one further pain and sorrow but that man...........Arjuna had hated him with an intensity that shocked even himself. He didn't even loathe Duryodhana as much as he loathed him, despite everything Duryodhana was still his cousin, no matter what he said.
It baffled him how deep his resentment of Karna ran . Most people thought it was because he was his only true competition to the title of the World's greatest Archer, but that was not it. The man was uniquely gifted, even Arjuna couldn't deny it and he never had. Was it because he was a low caste, downtrodden Suta who had no business picking up weapons that he would never be worthy of? But no, that was not it either. It could be because of his actions at the royal Assembly when he had insulted Draupadi and questioned her chastity, Draupadi who was as pure as the holy waters of Ganga in which he offered arghya everyday without fail. But no, he had hated him before that wretched incident, even before Varanavat where Duryodhana had planned to burn them to cinders, in order to destroy all the obstacles in his path to the throne of Hastinapura.
Why then? Why did he hate him so much?
Arjuna shook his head, ridding himself of these speculations as his mind returned to the task at hand. In a few hours they would reach Hastinapur and he found himself shuddering at the thought of returning to the Great Sabha where they had been so unjustly degraded at the hands of their cousins. But his distress was nothing compared to Draupadi who had suffered the worst humiliation, paying the ultimate price of Yudhistra's vow to always adhere to dharma and the rest of the Pandavas to bless him with their blind faith. She had never forgiven them, and he doubted she ever would.
Their contingent crossed the gates to the city, and the citizens showered flowers upon them, though Arjuna could see they were doing it only because they were ordered to do so. The fog of death and destruction had not lifted from Aryavarta, let alone Hastinapura where it had all begun. He could feel the tension in the air and the suspicion and disfavor etched upon the faces of the men and women who silently watched them journey towards the royal palace out of their balconies. Arjuna hadn't encountered even a single smile.
As they descended the chariots, the royal ladies performed the customary aarti and from there they were greeted by King Dhritarashtra, Prime Minister Vidura and other noted dignitaries of the royal Sabha. Yudhisthira fell down at their uncle's feet as the rest of them followed suit and King Dhritrashtra blessed them, with infinite weariness, a long and prosperous life. Even Yudhisthira was shocked at his words considering they were responsible for the deaths of so many of his children. Had he really forgiven them so easily. Or maybe, trammeled by another war and outplayed by destiny, he was simply treating them like any other ally. Dhritarashtra greeted their mother and Draupadi and Arjuna strained to hear the slightest note of resentment in their voice but found none of it. King Dhritrashtra looked weary and haggard, and Arjuna wondered how he had been doing in the last year.
Dhritarashtra's cherished charioteer Sanjaya guided them to their seats in the grand hall, and the Pandavas noted the hushed silence that followed their arrival. A feeling of discouragement swept Arjuna when he saw the faces of his fellow kings, many of which he didn't recognize from kingdoms whose rulers had been killed at the hands of the Pandavas and their allies. Some smiled at them, others glared. Some had fought alongside them while the rest had joined their bitterest enemies. It shouldn't really matter since alliances were always changing in Aryavarta and betrayals were common, especially before and after wars. But then again, Mahabharata had been unlike any other war.
The sabha was lined with courtesans, noblemen and priests whose hushed conversations filled the awkward silence that rested between the Kings and Princes present in the hall. Fortunately, they were graced with the company of Prince Dhristadyumna who had arrived before them and now sat conversing with Bhima and Yudhisthira. He could tell that none of them were really into it, but they were desperate to say something to avoid the painful silence that brought with it memories they wished to forget. Draupadi who had been sitting behind them in the veiled quarters allocated for royal women smiled widely at him and her brother smiled back. Arjuna didn't remember the last time he had seen her do that.
"Father?"
Arjuna turned towards Abhimanyu, who was gesturing to the goblets of guava juice being served by a maidservant. Shaking his head at her, he looked at his son who was staring impassively ahead of him, refusing to participate in the conversation. He had responded to Dhristadyumna's inquiries curtly, his voice cool like ice, and then taken to sitting stiffly in his seat without another word. He could tell that Dhristadyumna was upset, but the Upandavas had intervened and the conversation began to flow freely. Or as free as it could be with all the glances thrown their way. It was as if the whole courtroom was submerged in universal confusion and no one had the slightest clue on what they were supposed to do.
He scanned the room and stopped when his gaze fell on the Kaurava section. What was once always occupied with the loud and uninhibited hundred sons of King Dhritarashtra now lay empty except for a measly seven who had managed to survive. He noticed Duryodhana's absence but Dushasana was there and he was talking seriously to the remaining five. The thrones had been arranged into five rows of ten each and shockingly Dushasana and the others had chosen to sit in the last row. It was as if they were trying to hide their existence, their guilt enforcing them to believe that they had no business being alive when the rest of their brothers were no more.
He wanted...............nearly wished that Duryodhana was here. With his distinguishing dynamism and spirited presence he could perhaps jolt them back to reality so Arjuna could stop constantly pondering over how broken their family was. He couldn't believe it but his heart ached for just one glance of his cousin, hoping that the news of his failing health were simply rumors and no more. Yes, he was actually worried for the same cousin who Arjuna had always proclaimed with pride, was destined to be killed by Bhima. Maybe he was going insane with every passing day.
The royal drums and trumpets announced the entry of King Dhritarashtra, followed by Chief Minister Vidura and Guru Drona. Lakshman Kumar carefully guided his grandfather to the throne, watchful of his age and squeezed his arm gently before moving to his seat. He could see in the way Dhritarashtra had responded to Lakshman's touch, the way Vidura and the rest of the ministers had stared at him when he left and the way that Dushasan had smiled at him that the kid had earned respect in all their eyes and was an important member of the royal court. Arjuna almost didn't recognize him . He had the same haunted look on his face much like Abhimanyu but there was also a profound wisdom there that didn't sit with his age. When he passed by their seats he bowed to them.
"It is an honor to see my uncles here.", Lakshman Kumar said and gave them a sad smile. He was certainly a handsome young man with dark, piercing eyes and aristocratic features, a generous gift from his father. But Arjuna sensed a deep bitterness in him and for some reason he was unsettled by this boy and the melancholy that surrounded his movements.
"It is an honor to return to this blessed kingdom. How are you, my child?" Yudhisthira asked and Arjuna was glad that Yudhisthira was the eldest because he sure as hell wouldn't have known how to respond.
"I am fine, Uncle. And I pray that so are all of you. I wish the circumstances that we have met in were different but I guess nothing brings this family together like war.
He laughed at Yudhisthira's frown and shrugged. "I didn't think you would come but I am glad you did."
"How's your father doing?" Bhima interrupted suddenly, his face ashen.
Lakshman's eyes flashed with pain for a millisecond before he sighed and shook his head. "Not very good. We are all very worried."
Arjuna had absolutely no idea why that single piece of information caused him so much pain. He should have been happy......or relieved. Lakshman Kumar greeted their brother in law Dhristadyumna with excessive politeness and then excused himself.
The meeting began solemnly with Chief Minister Vidura showering gratitude upon the Kings and Princes who had chosen to support Hastinapura. Vidura was generally a straight shooter regarding these things, but surprisingly he took his own sweet time to individually thank each King present. Maybe the war had changed him. Or maybe he knew how dire the situation was and wanted to gratify the ones who had chosen to fight alongside Hastinapura. Their enemies led chiefly by Somadhi of Magadh were planning to siege the kingdom, and his proposal had the support of numerous kingdoms that were itching to see the downfall of Hastinapura. And why not, they had lost their kings, soldiers, entire armies in the Mahabharata then why should Hastinapura, where it all began, remain standing strong as ever when the rest of the Aryavarta was slowly disintegrating to pieces.
Technically Hastinapur wasn't doing much better either, it's just that the kingdom had slightly more wealth than the others and so there was at least this much assurance that its citizens wouldn't die of hunger. On the security front however Hastinapura was woefully underprepared with most of its soldiers and war generals dead. Arjuna had snatched away the city's greatest champion Pitamah Bhishma for the cause of dharma, and now there was no one left to fill that gap. King Dhritarashtra was too old, Duryodhana was missing, and the Kauravas were dead (save for six). Even Guru Drona seemed to have shrunken, his eyes did not have the usual light, and he seemed resigned.
Somadhi unlike his father was not favourable to the Pandavas either but right now his wrath was directed at the Kauravas alone. For long, Magadha had competed with Hastinapura but had never been able to match its glory with Pitamah Bhishma standing as a wall against anyone who so much as dared to dream of vanquishing Hastinapura. But now that the wall was broken. Somadhi may not be much of a warrior but he was a strategist and his ambition knew no bounds. And he wasn't alone. He had the backing of several powerful kingdoms.
Arjuna noticed in the midst of Vidura's speech that a royal servant had entered and whispered something to King Dhritrashtra. Nodding, the king raised a frail hand and Vidura stopped immediately. Dhritrashtra talked to Sanjaya, then leaned back in his throne. The royal instruments began to be played again, a signal that another delegation had arrived. Arjuna scanned the courtroom to determine the missing king then gave up when he realized that all the centuries old alliances had more or less dissolved in the aftermath of Mahabharata and it would be futile to try to guess the newcomer. Fortunately, the royal courtier cleared all confusion when he shouted at the top of his lungs that the king of Uttar Panchala would be entering the courtroom soon.
"I thought Ashwatthama was already here somewhere. He is just coming in?" Nakula said.
"I didn't see him so I assumed he was probably with Duryodhana. They are such good friends." Sahadeva replied.
"Indeed. It is strange that he chose to stay in Panchala when he is needed here now more than ever." Bhima said.
Arjuna didn't reply. He was busy staring at his hardened teacher and he was sure he had seen something on his face when Aswatthamma's name had been declared. Desperation? Anger? Eagerness? Hope? Something was amiss here.
There was some confusion at the dais and the courtier shouted at his subordinate then hurried back. Clearing his voice, he proclaimed that the King of Dwarka was accompanying the Panchala ruler and they would be arriving together along with a special guest.
"What?", Bhima exclaimed. "Krishna is coming with Ashwatthama?"
Arjuna nodded mutely, too stunned to say a word. While he knew that Ashwatthama had always been courteous with Krishna despite what Duryodhana said, he didn't think that they knew each other very well. And he wasn't the only one who was surprised. Judging by the murmurs that had broken across the hall he could see that others were just as baffled as he was.
"Do you know anything about this, Arjuna?" Yudhisthira asked.
'Yeah....and what does he mean by special guest?" Nakula wondered.
Arjuna opened his mouth to speak but froze when the new party entered the hall amidst a thunderous chorus of beats and chants and Arjuna was sure that he saw every jaw in the hall drop when they saw exactly who the special guest was.
"Impossible." Sahadeva mumbled.
"No way!!", Nakula shook his head in disbelief.
"Am I dreaming?" Bhima wondered aloud.
Arjuna shook his head. No, none of them were.
It really was him.
Vasusena Karna.