AJAYA I -- Roll of the Dice

by Unknown

  ***

  A few days later, in the dead of night, the Gandhara Prince woke with a jolt. Someone was gently tapping on his door. Cursing the interruption to his sleep, he fumbled for his dagger, found it, and hid it in the folds of his dhoti. He picked up the small lamp from the table and cautiously opened the door. Purochana stood outside. "What the hell?" Shakuni cursed again, thinking the bureaucrat had come to collect his payment.

  Purochana walked in and sat down on Shakuni's bed. He pummelled the soft pillows and said, "Nice place you have here, foreigner."

  "What do you want, buffoon?" Shakuni asked grumpily.

  "Aha, spare me that tone, foreigner. You will hug and shower me with kisses when you hear what I have come to say. No cheating, please, like the last time. I want 1000 gold coins and three times that for any action on it, okay foreigner?"

  Shakuni instinctively knew it was important. This serpent would not have dared wake him so late at night otherwise. "Agreed," he said and took the coins from a shelf, counted twice, and threw them onto the bed.

  Purochana took his time counting the money, while Shakuni fidgeted. Then he told the Gandhara Prince the news. Vidhura had given Purochana the task of building a palace for the Pandavas and the Grand Regent had sanctioned a huge amount from the treasury for its construction. Despite himself, Shakuni let out a yelp of joy. Then an idea struck the Prince like a flash. He explained to Purochana what he wanted done. Purochana replied that building a palace of lac was too risky. But before the new day dawned, Shakuni had settled the deal for 10,000 gold coins. Purochana left for Varanavata to begin work, without even performing his morning ablutions. His fortunes had changed at last.

  Bubbling with excitement, Shakuni could not sleep. He took out his dice and threw them onto the table crying, "Six". They spun and came to rest on double threes. He laughed in delight. The dice were rolling nicely. If things went as planned, the Pandavas would be trapped in a highly inflammable palace. But he would ensure they escaped unhurt. He did not want them to die. That would have been far too easy. In that scenario, Suyodhana would ascend the throne in due course and his unfortunate cousins would soon be forgotten. He wanted the Pandavas to escape with the knowledge that their cousins were trying to murder them. The conspiracy to murder the Pandavas had to reach the ears of that fool Vidhura. Shakuni was sure the conscientious Prime Minister would take care of the rest.

  As dawn inched across the eastern sky, painting the horizon saffron, Shakuni turned his back on the glorious sight and fell to his knees for his morning prayers. Turning West, he prayed for the glory of his motherland. Things could not have looked better for the foreigner.

  *

  *

  *

  20 HOUSE OF LAC

  VIDHURA SURPRISED PARSHAVI BY sending a messenger to Bhishma, asking for leave. When her husband announced they were going to visit the place where their house was to be built, she could not believe her ears. The boys were excited to have their father with them for the picnic and the humble home of the Prime Minister of Hastinapura was filled with the enthusiastic yells of his ten-year-olds. When they walked to the gate, they were surprised to see Bhishma's official chariot waiting.

  "Swami, the Grand Regent has sent this for your use." The charioteer bowed respectfully to the Prime Minister.

  Vidhura wanted to protest it was a private trip and not an official one, but knew he could not return the chariot without offending the Grand Regent. Parshavi climbed in, pulling her boys into the luxurious interior. Vidhura hesitated, but his family was already inside, so he climbed in and the chariot moved forward.

  Parshavi said to her husband, "Do not look so glum. You are not committing a crime. It is not your official chariot. The Grand Regent knows you well, so he has sent his own." She tried to close her ears to the ruckus created by her sons. When they reached their destination, Parshavi was shocked. "Are we going to build our house in this jungle?" she asked her husband as the boys ran out to jump into the stream nearby. There were hundreds of butterflies fluttering around and cuckoos answered each other somewhere above them. Beyond the excited cries of her boys, she could hear the music of crickets and the chirping of birds. A fragrant breeze ruffled her hair and then fled to play with the leaves.

  "Don't you like it?" Vidhura asked.

  Parshavi was close to tears. This untamed spot was far from the bustling streets of Hastinapura, from the shops and markets. How was she to run a household if Vidhura shifted them to this jungle? It was all right for a picnic, but...

  "I am going to build the house with my own hands." Vidhura was rushing around, eagerly pointing out where the kitchen would be, and where his study.

  Parshavi smiled, feigning enthusiasm to indulge him. By the evening, he had involved the boys in his project and it turned out to be one of the most beautiful days in their lives. On the way back, Vidhura kept speaking of their dream house. Parshavi listened without interrupting as the chariot sped along the busy streets of Hastinapura.

  After Vidhura had seen the boys fall asleep, something he could rarely do, Parshavi asked him, "Why don't you talk to the town architect and use the palace masons?"

  "Parshavi, we are building our home, not a public building. It would be wrong to use my position for personal gain. Besides, I want to build it with my own hands. When it is done, you will be thankful we did not go to any architect."

  She knew the house would never be built, not in her lifetime. That was the last time her husband spent the whole day with them. He would sneak away to the jungle whenever he could find some spare time and work on the house; refusing help from his subordinates and advice from the experts. He toiled in the hot sun and freezing cold. The boys accompanied him a few times and then lost interest. Every monsoon the rains would bring down whatever he had built. Vidhura would curse the lack of time, not his skill, and sulk for a few days. Then he would start building the house again. The Prime Minister's never-ending house construction soon became a running joke in Hastinapura.

  ***

  Ekalavya was in a bad mood. His aunt had quarrelled with him again. She had been at her irritating best ever since he had resumed his practice with the bow. He knew she was right in blaming him for ignoring his cousins and her. After the loss of his thumb, he had slowly emerged from his depression and begun taking care of the family by working as a scavenger, the only job open to a low caste like him. He detested the work, which involved cleaning toilets and drains and carrying stinking human waste in baskets on his head and dumping it far from the posh homes of the nobles. He always felt unclean, no matter how many times he bathed. People ran from him as though the mere sight of his dark body was polluting.

  Dogs and pigs walked in the streets and no one cared. But the same streets were cleaned with holy dung after Ekalavya walked past. His very footsteps were polluting. He hated his life, his fate, his country, and his job. But he knew it was either this or death by starvation. He had remained resigned to his stinking life until he saw what happened to Karna. It gave him hope that there was a future for people who worked hard and followed their dreams, as long as men like Prince Suyodhana existed. From that day, he was relentless in his pursuit to regain his skill in archery, determined not to let the double handicaps of caste and the lack of a thumb, stand in his way. Soon, hunger crept back into the poor Nishada's home, but the family was powerless to stop the scavenger challenging his fate.

  The reason for the morning's tiff was that his aunt wished to leave Hastinapura and migrate to a distant village called Varanavata. Ekalavya wanted to remain in Hastinapura. Here, there was a chance that someday the Crown Prince would notice him and perhaps he too, would become an important person like Karna. What would he do in a backward village like Varanavata, he asked his aunt? She bemoaned the fact that he had stopped caring for his cousins and that she was tired of trying to feed him. He was always playing with his bow and arrow instead of going to work. No one was willing to give her work, even as a house cleaner, since Ekalavya was
a scavenger. How was the family to survive if he continued with his insane obsession? She kept punctuating her sorrow by hitting her chest and forehead with her fists.

  Ekalavya screamed at her, saying she was trying to live off him. He cruelly added that while he carried rich people's shit, she and her fat children ate and remained idle. He regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, but it was too late. His aunt did not reply. She wiped her tears, tightened the small cloth bundle that contained all their worldly possessions, and cleaned her youngest child as best she could. She did not heed Ekalavya's apologies and pleadings, and walked out of the thatched hut with her children and her pathetic bundle. Ekalavya ran behind her, trying to persuade her to stay, but she said she was going to Varanavata to see if life offered anything better. Ekalavya fell at her feet saying he was sorry.

  She gently placed a work worn hand on his head and mumbled a prayer. Then she said to him, "I am not angry with you, Ekalavya. But I realize it is time for us to part. You are a grown man and I have done my duty to my husband's brother. I have my own children to feed. I cannot be a leech, sucking your blood. I did not expect anything when I brought you up. Now, there is nothing I can do to aid you in your ambition, other than pray. May Lord Shiva be with you always. May your dreams come true. If you wish to see your cousins or me, come to Varanavata. I hear the Grand Regent has built a great palace for the righteous Pandavas there, and the place is developing fast. They say the eldest Pandava is now called Dharmaputra Yudhishtra, and that he is the most truthful man in the world. The Pandavas are friends of Krishna, the avatar of Lord Vishnu. I am sure Varanavata will be a much better place for us than Hastinapura. This place has been cruel to us. Here everyone treats us like worms. In a place ruled by the Son of Dharma and blessed by the good wishes of Krishna, I am sure there will be some space for a poor Nishada woman and her five sons."

  Ekalavya hugged his cousins one by one. The eldest was just a few years younger than Ekalavya. The boy held his head high while saying goodbye to his cousin. But when Ekalavya held the youngest, he broke down in tears. The boy was nearly thirteen and Ekalavya had started training him in archery. The lad showed great promise. His aunt began walking and the elder children reluctantly followed. Ekalavya took a small knife from his waist and handed it over to the young boy, who hesitated a moment, took it and then ran to join the others. The Nishada watched his only relatives in the world become dots on the distant horizon and vanish from his world.

  ***

  The woman and her sons walked for many days before they reached Varanavata. The village was developing into a town, but she was rather disappointed. She had expected a larger place. The only remarkable building was the huge palace, which looked new and luxurious. How big a place did a family of six need, she wondered as she stood gazing at the dome glistening in the sun. She was afraid to walk on the main road. She was sure they would be chased away as unclean.

  The youngest boy pulled at her wrist, wanting to have a better look at the palace. "Mother, let us walk on the road. Why are we walking so far from it? I want to see the palace."

  "Who do you think you are, son? Are you a Brahmin or a Prince to walk on the main road in broad daylight? We are Untouchables and we will pollute the road."

  But the boy would not give up. "How will they know, mother? We are not in Hastinapura now. Nobody knows us here."

  "They will know by the colour of our skin, son."

  The boy looked down at his dark skin and became silent. It was not something he could change. The woman did not know what to do. They were all hungry. Six days before, they had raided a waste pit near a temple, in the dead of night. There were many leftovers from a feast held for the Brahmins the previous day, by some pious merchant, as insurance against his sins and avarice. The eldest boy had stood with a stick in his hand, pushing away the growling street dogs as his brothers and mother scavenged for food in the pit. They had to hurry, as the Priests would be coming soon to open the temple for morning prayers. If anyone saw them near the holy precincts, there would have been hell to pay. They collected as much of the leftovers as they could. The mother was careful to leave some for the street dogs. She knew the pain of hunger. The food had sustained them for a while, but in the last two days, they had not found anything to eat.

  The Nishada family walked past the magnificent palace and reached the river flowing behind it. They stepped into the waters of the Ganga and drank until their bellies almost burst. Fish of many shades swam around their ankles and they soon forgot their hunger. The children's shouts of delight as they chased the fish brought tears to their mother's eyes. For a while, she too forgot the scorching earth behind her and the misery it harboured.

  "Mother," someone called.

  The woman was shocked to hear herself so addressed. She turned, terrified to see a noble-looking man standing with his palms joined in a namaste. She involuntarily moved back, knowing she was closer to him than the caste rules permitted. Her sons climbed out of the water and the youngest ran to her, his face was pale with fear.

  "Devi," said the stranger, dressed in fine silk and jewellery, addressing the Untouchable woman in her tattered clothes. "I am Yudhishtra, eldest son of King Pandu. My mother, Kunti Devi, wishes to see you. Will you come to our home with your sons?"

  "Swami, I do not think you have understood who we are. We are the lowliest of all castes. How can we pollute your palace with our steps?" the Nishada woman asked.

  "Mother," the eldest Pandava said, ignoring the look of surprise on her face at being addressed in this way, "the Lord says that service to the poor is the greatest service of all. Come and bless our home."

  The eldest boy shrugged his shoulders and started walking towards the palace. His three brothers followed. They were thrilled at the chance to see a real palace and real Princes. The woman looked at her youngest son, gazing up at her eagerly, and then at the kind expression on the Prince's face, and nodded her assent. The woman followed Yudhishtra, her youngest son beside her. She could not believe her luck and smiled at her boys' excited chatter.

  A shepherd, who was standing and watching, moved towards the woman and whispered in her ear, "Don't go woman. It is a trap. Do not trust the high and mighty." Then he turned and walked away.

  She stood for a moment, confused, but her sons kept walking. Finally, she shrugged and followed the Son of Dharma. As they neared the palace, the guards bowed respectfully to the Prince. She saw their eyes enlarge in surprise at the group of Untouchables walking into the palace behind the Prince. She could almost hear their silent exclamations and lifted her head with some pride. But as the Prince ascended the steps leading to the main entrance, she hesitated. Should they follow him? What if they touched something and polluted it and they ordered her arrest? Yudhishtra turned and smiled. Behind him, the woman could see the lovely face of Dowager Queen Kunti, standing with her handsome sons. Kunti folded her hands in greeting to the Untouchable woman, and her sons bowed.

  Before the Nishada woman could recover from the shock of these nobles bowing to her, Arjuna came running down and caught hold of her eldest son's wrist. She wanted to warn the warrior that her son was a Nishada and he should not touch low castes, but her boy smiled confidently up at the greatest archer in the world and ran up the steps behind him. Her other sons followed. Before she knew it, her children were chatting animatedly with the noble Princes. The woman slowly climbed the steps and stood before Dowager Kunti, her head bowed in respect.

  "You have blessed us with your presence Devi, please come inside. We have arranged a chamber for you and your sons." Kunti led her to a room larger than the biggest home the Nishada woman had ever lived in. It had a huge bed and there were bowls of flowers, fruits and delicacies, the likes of which she had never seen. Even though she was starving, there was so much food before her that she thought they would not finish it all even if they lived to be a hundred.

  "Devi Kunti, what have I done to deserve so much kindness?" the woman asked through her tea
rs.

  An enigmatic smile appeared on Kunti's face. "You are serving a great cause. You and your five sons are serving dharma."

  "What is dharma?" the Untouchable woman asked the mother of five great warriors.

  "Perhaps you will not understand it just now but do not worry about it. Eat and rest." Kunti smiled again.

  At that moment, the youngest Nishada boy ran into the room. When he saw Kunti, he hesitated a moment and then ran to his mother. She could feel her son shivering in fear and smiled weakly at the noble woman who was frowning at the child's reaction. The Nishada woman wracked her brains to find an excuse for her son's irrational behaviour. But before she could, the room filled with the laughter of her other sons. They ran into the room shouting in merriment, overturning a flower vase here, and breaking some expensive figurines there, as the bulky Bhima chased them. The woman looked fearfully at Kunti and was relieved to see that she too was enjoying the antics of her sons.

  The boys saw the delicacies spread on the table and began eating ravenously. Kunti smiled once more and called her huge son to her. Bhima desperately wanted to join his newfound friends in eating the delicacies and sulked over the denied treat. He picked up a few treats, hiding them in the folds of his dhoti.