"Uncle Ashu!"
Ashwathamma turned around to find Lakshman Kumar running after him. He halted immediately, waiting for the young man to catch up. Ashwatthama had left his room a few minutes after Karna had gone to visit Duryodhana in the latter's chambers. It was as Karna had said, they both had things to do.
"Uncle Ashu, where are you headed?" Duryodhana's son asked breathlessly when he finally reached him.
"To my father's place. Is there something you want, my child?" Ashwathama gently ran a hand through Lakshman's dark hair, smiling widely at him.
"Yes. I do."
Ashwathama frowned at him. "What is it?
"Answers."
Ashwathama took the prince by his arm and walked towards the nearest tree, a large banyan that had been there for close to a century. Sitting in its cool shade, Ashwathamma peered at his friend's son who looked far older and wiser for his age. Lakshman Kumar had always been an awkward boy, so thoroughly terrified of saying or doing something wrong that he barely ever opened up to anyone. It didn't help that he had no brothers and while Lakshmana had been there, she being a woman faced hurdles of her own which were vastly different from the ones he was supposed to conquer. He had been more open with Karna and him than he had been with anyone else, including his father. But then again their personalities were as different as night and day, so perhaps he shouldn't really be surprised at all.
"Speak my child."
"Where were you, Uncle? Or rather, why weren't you here?" Lakshman's voice had a slight edge to it, which Ashwatthama found rather alarming.
"You know why. I had to leave for Panchala. With the war over and the casualties......I had to look after the kingdom and ensure that things won't get worse."
"Is that it?"
Ashwathama narrowed his eyes at him and sat up a little straighter. "What do you mean?"
"I am not a child, uncle Ashu. For the past year, I have been working with the Prime Minister and other courtiers to ensure that Hastinapura doesn't fall deeper into the depths of poverty and depravity. I have been regularly corresponding with every section of our administration and I am well informed of the situation in Uttar Panchala." He swallowed then, his face pale, and hissed, "So let me ask you again, why weren't you here?"
"Lakshman-"
"Do you not care?" Lakshman's voice was raw with anguish, with bitterness and with accusation. Eyes blurring with unshed tears, he gazed at him with burning despair, waiting for an answer.
"Of course I do," Ashwathama replied, dismayed that Lakshman Kumar would even harbour such a thought in his mind. He stretched his hand to comfort the kid, but Lakshman moved away from him, his face grim and unrecognisable.
"No, you don't. No one does. Not my father, who has locked himself away from the world and refuses to let us help him. Not uncle Dushasana or my other uncles who are trapped by their own guilt and misery to think of anything else. Not uncle Vasu who disappeared without a goodbye, taking everything away with him. And not my Uncle Ashu, who left when he was needed here the most."
"Lakshman, please...." Ashwathama started but didn't finish. What exactly was he supposed to say? That when Karna left, he didn't just destroy Duryodhana but him too. How was he supposed to console his best friend when he was just as heartbroken? Did Lakshman really not recall how close Ashwathama was to Karna, their friendship was just as profound as the one between Karna and his father. Why did everyone always forget about him?
Just like his father had.
"I am sorry, my child. You are right, I should have been here." He conceded after several minutes of silence, broken only by Lakshman's ragged breathing. And though Ashwatthama did not regret leaving, especially after what had happened, after what had been said to him, he did care deeply about Lakshman. A part of him wondered if it would have been better if he had taken the boy with him to Uttar Panchal. He couldn't imagine what Lakshman must have gone through, considering every adult in the family had more or less gone been destroyed by grief and would have probably forgotten about this young man all together. He must have been so alone in this grand mansion. Must have been forced to deal with the horror of Mahabharat and its aftermath all by himself.
Lakshman looked stunned. Perhaps he had expected Ashwatthama to fervently deny his allegations, or at least make a cursory if only perfunctory effort to defend himself.
"Well...yes...you..... you should have." Lakshman's voice was raspy and weak.
"It's so unfair. The way we have treated you." Ashwathama berated himself for not thinking of Lakshman Kumar, this wise kid who had always been so alone, so overlooked in the midst of the power struggles for the throne of Hastinapura.
Much like him.
"How.... how can I make it up to you?" Ashwathama asked earnestly, hoping that Lakshman would give him a chance to redeem himself.
Lakshman stood up suddenly, his lip quivering and eyes jaded. "You can't. But for starters," he choked back a sob, "Don't you leave again."
Ashwathama watched Lakshman Kumar practically sprint across the grounds, trying to get away in time before he had a breakdown in front of him. He should have gone after him, inquired about his health and how the past year had been to him.
But he didn't.
Because he already knew the answer to that question.
By the time he reached his father's cottage, it was dark already. The birds had retired to their nests and the only sounds that could be heard came from the soft creaking of branches that danced in the evening wind. He loved it here, living so close to nature. Just as he thought this a rabbit brushed past his feet into the shaggy bushes that dotted the path to the door of the hut.
Hesitantly, he opened the door and entered, taking care to keep his existence hidden from his parents. A heavy emotion filled his heart, at the familiarity and comfort of his home. He had missed it so much.
His father sat in the center of the room, eyes fixed on the manuscript he was reading near the lit oil lamp. He took his time to observe his father, face set in determination as he read through the manuscript, mouth a thin line and eyes still and serious like always. His heart, which was much weaker and nowhere near as hard as his father's wrenched at the sight. Because despite everything, he loved him still.
His father finally noticed him standing there, staring at him like an idiot. For a moment, they just stood there observing each other. Minutes passed before Ashwathama jerked out of his reverie and kneeled in front of his father, seeking his blessings. Lightly, Drona grazed his hair mumbling words that he assumed were good wishes because Ashwathama wasn't really listening. He was far too busy trying to compose himself and not give in to the agonizing emotions that just wouldn't let him be.
And on his lips was the same question that Lakshman Kumar had asked him an hour ago.
Do you even care?
His mother came out of the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner and hugged him hard, tears forming in her eyes. He smiled at her, as he wiped them off her face and whispered "How are you, mother?"
Her mother didn't respond; instead, she burst out crying and buried her face in his chest. It surprised him because his mother Kripi, though never on the same level as Drona, had always been reserved and unsentimental no matter what adversity came her way. He wasn't sure how to respond because for the longest time he was certain that both his parents were made of iron and as such would never yield to something as fragile and feeble as emotions.
"Why didn't you come home early? Why did you stay with my brother?"
"I.....I was going to come but....uh, I was tired from the journey and Uncle Kripa...well-"
"A son's paramount concern should be his mother and father." Drona declared.
"Yes...I know..."
"I missed you so much." Kripi returned to her characteristic solemness for which Ashwathamma was glad and he gave her a wide, winsome smile. "I missed you more."
"Now that you are back, I am not letting you go anywhere. Not even to my brother."
Ashwathama chuckled heartily. This was one of the rare times when Kripi shed her customary aloofness to express her affection, her joy at having him back, and he was enjoying it very much. "There's nowhere else I want to be."
"Why have you not been responding to our letters?" Drona lowered the manuscript and arched his eyebrows at him. Kripi lay a soothing arm on Drona's arm, clearly not wanting things to go downhill. He wasn't sure if his mother was angry at him too, though if she was he wouldn't blame her.
"I ....was.....there were things I had to take care of in Uttar Panchala. It is my duty as a king."
"And what of your duty as a son?"
Ashwathamma frowned. This wasn't fair. He had been a good son in every way. "Forgive me father but I do not see where I have failed as a son. I know I should have replied, but things were not well in the kingdom" And he wasn't lying about that. The Great War had brought with it a tsunami of mayhem, destitution, and malversation, and he needed to act fast before his subjects were submerged under it. It was his dharma, as the ruler to act in the welfare of his kingdom.
"And you were so occupied that you couldn't spare a few minutes for us." Drona's voice was low, full of gravel. "You knew that your mother was not doing well."
"What are you saying? I sent the physicians and nurses promptly and -"
"We do not require YOU to PROVIDE us with anything!" Drona shouted and Ashwathamma flinched at the tone, so full of disapproval and disappointment. Because that was what he had always been to his father. A giant disappointment.
"Your mother was sick and you couldn't be bothered?"
Anger rose through his body along with a searing pain at Drona's harsh words that he spit out with no contrite. How dare he suggest that Ashwathama didn't care for his mother? He wanted to scream, to howl his pain like a wild beast at his father's callousness and his indifference towards him. He was sick of it.
"Father, please do not accuse me of something so shameful." His words were laced with the quietness that screams the arrival of a deadly storm.
"Then start acting like you actually care. I've raised you better than this."
"You did not raise me, my mother did. You were far busy training the Pandavas and the Kauravas."
Something flashed in Drona's eyes, his usually stoic and impassive mask broke and an unfathomable emotion set in its place.
"Ashwathama!" Kripi rebuked, previous sentiments all forgotten.
"What is that supposed to mean?" The sharpness of his voice sent shivers through Ashwathama's body.
"It just means that I will not tolerate an accusation like that from anyone. Not even from you, Father."
"Is it an empty allegation, though? Is it not backed by your own actions?"
"I do not owe you an explanation."
"Enough!" Kripi thundered, stepping away from him. "What is this behavior? The child I raised would never act like this!"
"No! Let him speak. I want to know what he has to say. Go on" Drona prodded.
Ashwathama felt an ache all the way to his guilt. All he ever wanted was his father to spare some time for him, to look at him the way he looked at Arjuna, to be proud of him. He knew he wasn't perfect, but he had tried, the gods above knew he had tried only to crash and burn like a fallen star. Apparently, according to his father, he was not good enough. He would never be good enough.
He could have said all this but what was the point, especially after all these years. When did anyone ever really care about what he had to say?
"Well?" Drona made no effort to hide his impatience. Kripi stood by him, her displeasure evident from the tightness of her mouth.
So Ashwatthama did what he always did. He swallowed the bitterness of his lonely childhood, ignored the pain of his father's complete disinterest in him, forgot about the harsh words and the cold silence, and breathed out a slow, weary sigh.
"I am sorry, Father. I was being.... unreasonable. Forgive me, please."
Dinner was tense and unsatisfying and Ashwatthama seriously regretted coming back to the house although his father's words did not really surprise him. Like, what else did he think was going to happen? His father would magically develop emotions like other mortals and confess that he missed him? That he cared for him? That he wanted him by his side?
The longing inside of him had turned into a dull ache at the pit of his stomach. He was foolish to give in to his sentiments, he really should have known better. Especially after all these years.
At some point in night, Ashwatthama left his home and wandered out. He couldn't sleep there even if he tried his best. Maybe he would just lie on the cold ground and watch the stars all night. That honestly seemed like a wonderful proposition. Anywhere but here.
As he ambled along the path, he decided to take a turn and see if Vasusena was awake.He felt a little hesitant to approach his friend at such an hour but then again, it's not like he had anywhere else to go to. Besides, if Vasusena was asleep he would simply leave him be and return home.
His friend stood outside his house, leaning against an Ashoka tree staring at the night sky. Ashwatthma knew Karna like no one did. He was aware of what every expression, every sigh, every laugh meant and so when he saw the look in his friend's eyes, his drooping shoulders and defeated posture he knew nothing had gone right.
"Karna?" He called out and his friend acknowledged his presence with the briefest of nods, before turning his gaze back to the sky.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" Karna breathed.
"It really is."
"Father always said that every night holds a different meaning for everyone. For some, it is a time to indulge in the soft emotions of love and passion, for some it is to give in to thoughts that cannot see the light of the day, for some it is basically a chance to soak in their sorrow."
"What does tonight mean to you?" Ashwatthama questioned, standing by Karna.
Karna smiled at him. "A chance for introspection."
"How did the meeting with Duryodhana go?"
"How do you think? I suppose he was far too intoxicated so I am not sure if he will even remember I was there."
Karna rubbed the back of his neck. "I hope your mother is doing fine now. And your father too. How did your reunion go?"
"How do you think?" Ashwatthama responded drily causing Karna to laugh.
"Looks like we both set ourselves up for failure."
Ashwatthama scoffed. "Wouldn't be the first time."
"Wouldn't be the last time either," Karna added.
The wind picked up speed and the cold that had seemed pleasant during his walk was now piercing, leaving him numb. He rubbed his arms to warm himself and Karna noticing the movement suggested they retire for the night. Ashwatthama nodded at him but he had no intention of going back to his parents' place so he requested accommodation at Karna's house.
He was shocked to see the hesitation on his friend's face. Surely Vasusena wouldn't deny him? But with the day he had, he could be wrong.
"Ashwatthama, the thing is....actually"
He could actually feel the pain of Karna's dismissal, of his rejection coming in so he shifted his glance elsewhere to hide his disappointment.
"The house....I didn't get a chance to clean it properly. You should probably sleep in my room."
Ashwatthama blinked his eyes and released the breath he didn't know he was holding. Seeing the relief on his face Karna questioned him about it.
"I thought...... I thought.....you didn't want me here." He answered uncertainly.
Karna gaped at him for a few seconds before punching him on the shoulder and cackling with laughter. "You know for someone who is a distinguished scholar and an accomplished ruler, you can be pretty daft at times." Ashwatthama just shrugged, feeling himself flush like an idiot.
Karna was still laughing wildly. "Like I would ever be able to rid myself of you."
Ashwatthama narrowed his eyes at his friend and tried his best to look offended but he was betrayed by the small smile on his face and the relief that at least he had a few people he could always count on, no matter what. So he chortled alongside his friend and felt much lighter than before.
"Come on, let's go inside...it's freezing out here," Karna said after some time, finally coming out of his pondering to notice the drop in temperature.
The two friends made their way inside Karna's small but cozy house that felt warm and welcoming, despite its dilapidated state. There was no talk of the Kauravas or the Pandavas, of the perilous position of Hastinapura in the war or of Somadhi's next move. At some point, he could tell Vasusena wanted to ask about what happened with his father but didn't because just like Ashwatthama, he too could read him better than anyone else. So they spent the night talking about the stupidest, most irrelevant things but it didn't matter because it was fun and enjoyable and heaven knew he needed to cool off a little.
When Ashwatthama woke up at the break of dawn, he found himself lying on the bed, covered head to toe in a large, woolen blanket. He lifted his head and raised himself on one elbow to see Karna sleeping blissfully on an old, ragged bedsheet that Ashwatthama was sure did nothing to protect him against the cold. Something stirred in him at the thought of his friend and his boundless, extensive kindness and his generosity that would put several of the so-called nobles to shame. Looking at the soft, carefree expression on his face, Ashwatthama marveled at all the effort that Karna must have made to keep his walls high up and to keep others out. He was glad to be one of the few who had been granted the gift of his friendship and acceptance.
He knew that he should probably wake up Karna or he would end up missing his daily ablutions by the Ganga but somehow he knew that his friend needed the rest and that the Sun God will understand and forgive this small transgression. He lowered himself on the bed and decided to sleep the fatigue off, ignoring the simmering tension he felt deep within.
He knew things would only get worse from here.
He just knew it.
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God! I had written this chapter right after the first chapter 'Karna' but had completely forgotten about it. It's only now I remembered about it and considering today is my birthday, I thought I would post it right away:)
Anyway, with the pace of my writing, we would probably be meeting next year. So have a great Christmas and New Year, guys. Stay safe all of you:)
What a roller-coaster 2020 has been! I hope 2021 will bring joy to all of us. Once again, best wishes for the next year!
Edit 1: Thanks for all the lovely wishes, guys!! But you are also supposed to leave a review. How will I know if you liked the chapter or not :D