by Unknown
Suyodhana raised his voice again. This time he addressed the assembled Kings. "Great Kings of India, most of you have inherited your kingdoms. But here is someone truly deserving of becoming a Kshatriya. Please come forward and strengthen my purpose."
An impenetrable silence followed as the Kings gazed back stonily. No one moved. Then one of them stood up slowly. With deliberate steps, he walked towards Suyodhana. Bowing to the Prince he said, "I am Jayadratha, King of Sindh. You are doing the right thing and can count on my support. It is a privilege to befriend a man like you, if you will accept my hand in friendship."
Suyodhana smiled at his lone supporter among the Kings and grasped the hand held out to him in a firm grip. The crowd waited with baited breath. Karna watched as Suyodhana turned towards the overflowing gallery.
"My countrymen, I have a dream. Perhaps some of you may say it is an impossible dream. Yet, it is beautiful. I see a tomorrow where all barriers will crumble and we will live in a free world. I see a future where we stop asking people about their caste and treat each other as equals. I see my country breaking free of the grip of irrational beliefs and superstitions. I see a tomorrow where there will be no limits placed on what one can achieve. The accident of birth will not stand in the way of achievement.
"This young man is proof that talent knows no caste. There are forces in our society that want to cloister everything, corner every privilege, and treat others like dust under their feet. This man is hunted by the great kingdoms of the South. But what was his crime? He wanted to learn. Now, Parashurama's followers want us to punish a man for daring to dream; to insult him for not being born into a high caste. Is this the right thing to do? Have we ever paused to think what will happen to this land if we keep denying knowledge to everyone? The majority live in ignorance and poverty. A few decide who is pure and who is not. Which are the scriptures these people quote? Why are they afraid to let everyone learn the Vedas? Are they afraid that people will then see that most of the taboos and inhuman practises they advise have no sanction in the holy books? Where are these people leading our country? Has the time not come to say - enough!"
Suyodhana paused and took a deep breath. The arena waited in anticipation. "As the Crown Prince of Hastinapura, I can only make you one promise. I will not allow Parashurama and his cronies to win in our land. More than that, I wish to see our compatriots of the Southern Confederate free of the clutches of men who destroy our religion and culture in the name of dharma. Today, on this day of graduation, I have come of age and this is my promise to you, my beloved people. Every moment of my life, I will strive to wipe out hunger, ignorance and pain. My dreams have the sanction of our holy books. May Lord Mahadeva strengthen my arms. I will strive with my last breath to wipe out the curse of hunger, caste and inequality which is spreading from the Himalayas in the far North to where the three seas meet in the Deep South. This is my dream, my promise, my dharma."
There was utter silence from the 20,000-strong crowd. Then an unseen hand seemed to lift them as one body. Their cheers rose towards the heavens as the sun tinted their faces saffron.
As Karna watched the Crown Prince, his eyes filled with tears, Suyodhana made the historic announcement. "My countrymen, after thousands of years, witness the coronation of a King, based only on merit. I give away my inheritance of the prosperous Anga country in the East of our great land, to my friend, Karna. His being a Suta is incidental. From today, he will be known as Anga Raja, in recognition of his merit as a man."
A shocked silence followed before the ranks of the Priests exploded in rage. A few tried to run onto the ground, pulling out hidden daggers, but they were stopped in their tracks by Prince Sushasana. The Kaurava brothers formed a protective ring around the Crown Prince and the stadium erupted into thunderous applause, much to the discomfiture of the conservatives.
"Let the coronation ceremony begin for Anga Raja," Suyodhana ordered.
***
In the stands, Ekalavya stood up with a heavy heart. His ghost thumb twitched as he fought to control his tears. After sacrificing his thumb on the altar of caste, he had cursed the country he had the misfortune to be born in. Now, witnessing Karna's sudden turn of fortune, he felt the bitterness of his loss intensify. 'I could have been in Karna's place had Drona not cheated me of my future,' the Nishada thought. He could not sit and watch Karna become a King, and walked out of the stadium.
As Ekalavya left, Jara saw him and cried out, "Brother..." Lost in a morass of self-pity, the Nishada did not have ears for the beggar. He absently threw the loose change he had towards Jara and without looking at him, continued walking. As the noise from the stadium grew fainter, hope sprouted again in the wounded mind of Ekalavya.
A Prince had dared challenge the system. Perhaps the future would belong to him. Perhaps this country was not as bad as he had imagined if she had given birth to one such as Suyodhana. 'Why should the lack of a thumb stand in the way of my dreams?' the Nishada wondered, and took a fateful decision. He ran to where his bow lay gathering dust. Picking it up gently, he began practising again. Perhaps, even without a thumb, he could best Arjuna.
***
Inside the arena, things were getting out of control as far as the Priests were concerned. Thick clouds had covered the sun and lightning zigzagged across the heavens in crazy patterns. But nothing could silence the chants that rose from 20,000 throats. Dhaumya and his group watched in horror as Kripa and Aswathama flouted the most sacred rules of the smritis and did the unthinkable. As the Suta was anointed King and a Kshatriya, which itself was a blatant transgression of the caste rules, Kripa and Aswathama chanted the most sacred of all mantras - the Gayatri - before all. Did the fools not know it had to be kept secret? That no ears other than those of a Brahmin, could hear it? Did not the smritis say that molten lead had to be poured into the ears of Shudras or women who heard it, even accidentally? Who would control that crazy Kripa and the foolish son of Guru Drona, who were even now chanting the sacred mantra aloud and urging the crowd to chant it after them? Dhaumya squirmed as the air thundered with the holy Gayatri mantra being repeated by thousands of men and women of all castes, creeds and colour.
And so, Karna officially became King of Anga; the first Shudra to be thus elevated in many centuries. With that one bold act, Suyodhana burnt the last bridge connecting him to the conservatives. Dhaumya was determined that the evil that had arisen in the form of Suyodhana, had to be eliminated at any cost. The future of India and the protection of dharma depended on it. He looked at Krishna for solace but the Yadava was looking at Kunti.
Krishna watched servants help his aunt leave the arena. He shook his head. Yudhishtra had forfeited a golden opportunity. Suyodhana had outwitted everyone with his masterly move of making the talented Suta his friend. If the eldest Pandava had had any sense, he would have done what Suyodhana had done and gained a formidable warrior as his friend. 'How will I drive any sense into these fools?' he wondered. Why had Kunti fainted? Something did not add up. Krishna watched the coronation of the Suta with a smile. The game was getting tougher and he was loving it. He looked at Subhadra and saw that his sister's eyes were not fixed upon Suyodhana. Those doe-like eyes were brimming with tears at the image of the forgotten Arjuna, standing to one side, ignored by everyone. Slowly a plan started forming in Krishna's mind.
"Suyodhana should not have insulted Arjuna like that. Why did he elevate an unworthy man?" Subhadra asked her brother.
"Let us go," said Krishna, taking his sister's hand.
***
Outside the stadium, Jara fiddled with the copper coins Ekalavya had thrown, thinking sadly that Ekalavya had not even bothered to look at him. He saw a dejected Athiratha walking towards his hut and called out to him. The charioteer did not turn. Immersed in his own worries about how to break the news of their son's return to his wife, he did not hear the beggar's call. How would he tell a mother that her son had become a King, but had not even looked at his father's face? Jara gazed at the fading f
igure and cried, "Oh Krishna, why do you try the poor and humble in this way?" Jara heard the waves of an unknown chant coming from the stadium. He suddenly felt hungry and handed over a coin to a food vendor, who gave him a banana leaf. Since he was an Untouchable, the food would be served on the leaf, which was placed in a hole in the ground. Jara waited for the food to arrive. Dharma too, sat patiently, occasionally wagging his tail and licking Jara's face. Jara did not mind the rain that had started falling and waited for quite some time before the food vendor finally spooned boiled rice into the hole. Jara closed his eyes to offer his customary thanks to Krishna for the food.
At exactly that moment, a chariot sped past at great speed, splashing dirty water from a puddle. When Jara opened his eyes, he almost cried. The food was splattered with stinking water and no longer edible. He could only see the back of the vanishing chariot and the silhouette of a man with a peacock feather in his hair, and a woman beside him. "Why do you show food to a hungry man, only to take it away? Don't you have any mercy, my Lord?" cried the hungry beggar.
Later, when the crowd emptied out of the stadium, Jara was pleasantly surprised to see Karna riding with the Crown Prince. He wished Karna well, as though a beggar's goodwill mattered in this land of Gods. When he checked to see whether the dirty water had drained from his bowl of rice, he found a trail of ants had invaded his food. He immediately felt guilty about his outburst towards his beloved Krishna. The Lord had known that the hunger of these little creatures was greater than his own. For Him, the ant and Jara were equal. How arrogant of Jara to think Krishna had been cruel to him. It was just his leela, and He was merely showing the beggar that he was getting greedy and not caring about his fellow creatures. Had he not dined the previous day? How much harder must it be for these tiny, helpless creatures in the rain, thought Jara. Joyfully, he watched the ants carry away his food.
***
Inside the palace, Dhaumya and the five Pandava brothers huddled together to decide on the future. Drona's household was in turmoil.
Aswathama had walked out of his home to meet Suyodhana after another argument with his father. Jayadratha, Karna, and Sushasana, sat celebrating the great day. Suyodhana kept an eye on the King of Sindh. He had noticed that the King seemed to have a soft corner for his sister Sushala, and his brotherly instincts were on the alert. In another room, Shakuni lay wide awake, his mind working out various schemes to carry forward his mission.
Before leaving after the long day, Vidhura gently asked Bhishma about handing over the fugitive to the Southern Confederate. Bhishma stared at his Prime Minister and then shook his head saying it was no longer possible. When Vidhura expressed fears about a war with the powerful Confederate, Bhishma answered cryptically that some wars were worth fighting. Walking back to his chamber alone, Vidhura smiled to himself at the remark. Such moments made working under the Grand Regent a delight.
***
In the forest, Ekalavya fought pain and fear to practice archery...
In their hut, the aged charioteer consoled his distraught wife, murmuring that her son would surely come to see her the next day, but secretly doubting his own words...
In a chariot speeding towards Dwaraka, a thoughtful Prince held the reins while a Princess remembered Arjuna's dejected face. They travelled on in silence...
In the streets of Hastinapura, a hungry Jara and his blind dog walked along slowly. As his haunting song about a compassionate Krishna, who watched over not only his devotees but the tiniest of God's creations, floated over its dwellings, big and small, the greatest city of India slowly slipped into sleep. Night had fallen on another day in the long history of an ancient nation.
*
*
*
19 REVENGE OF A BRAHMIN
DHRITARASHTRA ANXIOUSLY WAITED FOR HIS SON to appear. He was puzzled by his wife's silence. "Gandhari, I hear the Suta boy is a better archer than Arjuna. What was his name? It was a great thing our son did. It took courage. Suyodhana need never again fear Arjuna with this newcomer and Aswathama to support him. But why is he late? Gandhari, why are you so silent? Are you not proud of your son? How many of us could have done what he did today?"
"They have come," Gandhari answered softly, adjusting the King's headgear and ornaments with practiced fingers before sitting down beside him.
"Your Highness, see who has come to see you," said a familiar voice.
"Ah, Shakuni! Welcome. Where are the boys?" Dhritarashtra turned his head towards the sound.
"Why do you look so serious, sister?" Shakuni asked with a crooked smile, walking towards Gandhari.
"What is it you want here, Shakuni?"
"Gandhari, why are you always so harsh to your brother? Let him celebrate this day with us. But where are the new archer and Suyodhana?"
"I am here, father," Suyodhana replied, walking into the room through the curtained archway with Karna and Aswathama.
"Aha, there you are. The man of the moment." The King stood up and embraced his son. "Where is your friend?" Dhritarashtra reached out.
Karna moved forward and touched the King's feet. The King ran his hands down Karna's muscled arms and smiled. "You have the long limbs of a great archer."
"The best in the country, perhaps in the world, Your Highness," Shakuni intervened. "Arjuna notwithstanding."
"Suyodhana, you almost finished Bhima, I hear," Dhritarashtra chuckled. "Well son, you are now a warrior and have the support of those who will not desert you in battle. All your boyhood you have feared your gifted cousins, but you need do so no longer." Dhritarashtra ignored his wife's restraining hand. "Gandhari, I wish to see my son succeed me. I do not want a bastard to sit on the throne of Hastinapura. Is that so wrong?"
"Yudhishtra is the son of Yama, the God of Death," Shakuni said, watching Dhritarashtra's face turn red with anger.
Dhritarashtra tapped the floor angrily with his stick. "No! He is the son of some unknown Brahmin. Gandhari, do not interfere. I am the King and have the right to decide who will follow me. I have suffered enough. Is it my fault I was born blind? Was there any warrior who could defeat me with a mace, blind or otherwise, when I was young? I have a gift for you, Suyodhana. Gandhari, ring the bell."
As the three young men and Shakuni watched, four guards staggered in with a full-length iron statue of a warrior, mace lifted over his head in combat position.
"It looks like someone we all know!" Shakuni exclaimed, admiring the wonderful workmanship despite himself.
"It is for you, Suyodhana. Take it and practise on it," the King said.
"Yes, nephew, practice breaking Bhima's head. Soon the time will come to do it on the real one," said Shakuni.
Gandhari stood up, her hand shaking. "Shakuni, please leave us. How often I have told you.... Go to Gandhara and administer your lands. I do not want you here."
"I will talk to the Grand Regent. If he permits..."
"Shakuni, please leave us now," commanded Gandhari. "I wish to speak with my son."
Karna and Aswathama followed Shakuni out, thankful to escape the embarrassing scene.
When they had left, Gandhari pulled her son to one side and felt his face with her fingers. How she wished she could see his face. How tall he had grown. He was a man now, no longer the little boy who hid under his father's bed. "Why did you do it, my son?" she asked gravely. "Why did you make a Suta a King, and risk losing the support of the nobles? You have made powerful enemies today. They will try everything to stop you from inheriting your father's throne. Why did you do it, Suyodhana?" Gandhari waited for her son to speak, fearing his answer.
"Mother, I did it because it was the right thing to do."
Gandhari turned away, lest he see the dampness spreading over her blindfold. Thankfully, a guard came to say Guru Drona wished to see the Prince in his chambers. She heard him bid farewell to his father, and nodded her head without facing him when he took his leave of her. She stood still by the window until the sound of his footsteps faded away. She was proud
to have borne such a noble son, but the mother in her was afraid. She knew that doing the right thing never went unpunished.
***
When Suyodhana entered the Guru's chamber, the Pandava brothers were already there. Their conversation stopped abruptly when they saw him. Suyodhana greeted Drona and his cousins, and stood waiting for the Guru to speak.
Avoiding Suyodhana's eyes, Drona said, "Prince, it is time to pay your gurudakshina. By now, you know that I care neither for money nor for land. I am a Brahmin and such material things do not affect me in the least. But years ago, I had a close friend. We were both disciples of Parashurama. He was a rich Prince and I a poor Brahmin. When we finished our studies and parted, he promised to help me in the future if I ever needed it.
"For years, despite winning the coveted Dharmaveera title, I was unable to find a job suited to my talents. Poverty and hunger became my constant companions. When some boys in the neighbourhood forced my son Aswathama to drink batter, calling it milk, I decided it was time to go and meet my friend. He had become a King by then. I went to him with a begging bowl. He made me wait for two anxious weeks before granting me an audience. Instead of helping, he insulted me. I will never forget the laughter of the Panchala courtiers when their King mocked my helplessness. Busy with the pleasures of his newly acquired kingship, he treated me contemptuously. He made fun of my threadbare clothes and said that despite my talent, he had always known I would never amount to anything. He patronizingly offered me the post of a junior teacher in a remote village. I lost my cool and challenged my erstwhile friend to a duel. But he said Kings do not duel with beggars.
