It is true that the problems of the rich and poor are
very different...well...at least in some aspects...
How do I know?
Because when I
compare my life with the King Dhritrashtra, I feel we are not very different…
Who am I, you may
ask now?
I am the girl, who
stands beside his throne, fanning him. This is my family profession. The women
in the family would take on this responsibility, generations after generations.
And the men in the family would be the sentry to the King's personal chamber. I
have been with King Dhritrashtra ever since he sat on the throne of Hastinapur.
Pandu died while
he was away from Hastinapur. Dhritrashtra was ecstatic after hearing the news.
My husband, a sentry to the King's personal chamber, was given a pearl
necklace. It was beautiful. Of course, my idiot of a husband had to give it to
his obnoxious mother, who gloated and showed it off to everyone, as if she had
bought it. The woman is impossible, I say.
Anyway, so as I
was saying, King Dhritrashtra was very happy. And when he sat on the
throne for the first time, I could feel his overwhelming emotion. Like an
excited child.
I suddenly felt a wave
of sympathy for him. All he wanted was some tender, loving care- the same that
I wanted from my idiot of a husband. Sigh. We don't always get what we want,
right?
So as I was
saying, I witnessed most of the drama that happened in the royal court. The
King's son was attractive - Duryodhan - well-built, deep, husky voice and a
proud strut that would make him noticeable. They say people advised the King to
abandon him since he brought about a bad omen. And the King just couldn't do
that. How could he, being a parent? For a crow too, its little one is precious.
I wouldn't give up my children either, even if they turn out to be like their
father, or even worse, my mother-in-law!
They say love is
blind. And I saw that in reality.
The more people
urged the King about the oncoming evils, the more he clung tightly to his son.
He and his wife tried to give Duryodhan as much acceptance, as they hadn't
received. The Queen Gandhari, too, having suffered disgrace (by being married
off to a goat before being forcefully married to the blind king, Dhritrashtra)
showered her son with love.
Not once did
anyone reassure the King or the Queen - all they would do is give advice, warn
them, patronize the couple of how they should have disciplined their son. I
would sense the stress in the King, when his son's name would be brought up in
the court by the elders of the family. I think once I might've heard him
murmur, "Why can't they leave my son alone?" The unfairness towards
his son probably reminded the King of how he was side-lined because he was born
blind. What would such people understand about unfairness, disappointment and
inequality?
When I would be
asked to escort the King to his personal chamber (very rarely) after a long,
tiring day in court when he would deal with matters of the kingdom, I would
feel the tiredness of his soul. And when I would say this to my husband, he
would laugh and say, “so now you know to look into people’s souls too, eh?” The
idiot. Never takes my words seriously. He, on the other hand, had access to the
King’s brother-in-law’s chamber. Prince of Gandhar, Shakuni, had installed
himself as a permanent fixture in the palace. My husband was very scared of him
and he would tell his mother that, at dinner. My mother-in-law would coddle him
as if he were a 4-year-old. I would try very hard not to smirk but would
usually get caught in the act. She would then go on to berate me and label my
parents for their bad parenting. What’s there to get scared, especially if you
are doing your job well?
Little did I know
back then that this person had the power to change the fate of the kingdom and
its people (that’s us).
Young women like
me, who would fan any one significant member of Hastinapur kingdom, would get a
lot of gossip every single day. There were very few times when we would get the
opportunity to take a break together and those times were amazing! So much
gossip recharged us and made us feel that our monotonous work had an
adventurous aspect to it.
Queen Gandhari had
her own crew of women who would help her in her daily routine. I was told she
was very intelligent, very sharp – sometimes even wiser than the King. I
personally think it was the most foolish thing to do to blindfold herself. Like
how did it help? The King still felt inadequate and underconfident about
himself; in fact, the children lost the presence of their mother – 100 of them.
That’s not what foresight is. It is just easy for her since she is a Queen and
has so many people to wait on her. If I had done something like this, my mother-in-law
would have got my husband remarried and I would have been like a furniture in
my own house. Sigh…such are the ways of rich people; they can afford to take
all these vows and stuff.
But there are many
things I admire in the King and Queen:
- They are a great couple – so much respect in
their relationship, the way they support each other is just amazing.
Sometimes, I advise my husband to learn this quality from the King. He
just asks me to shut my mouth like the Queen shut her eyes.
- The Queen is so composed, patient and
accommodating. There was this one time my friend was helping her get
dressed and accidently ended up poking her with a hairpin. She was so
scared of losing her job and being thrown in prison that she started
sobbing uncontrollably. The Queen held her hand and told her that mistakes
happen and she could be more careful in the future. She sure was.
- The King, when in a good mood, is the nicest
person I have ever met. He gives away gifts freely to the soldiers, shares
the leftover food with the sentries on duty.
- And yeah, both of them, dote on their
children. Absolutely!
If you ask me, I
personally never thought they spoilt their kids (very unlike how the world
views them). There were times when Prince Duryodhan would come sobbing to the
King, complaining that Bhim had beaten him or Arjun had outwitted him or the
Ashwin twins had played a prank on him. The King would always encourage the
Prince to take it easy, talk to the Pandavas or complain to Yudishthir, who
would easily manage the situation. The Prince unsatisfied with his father’s
response would then go to his mother. She would give him a hug and kiss him or
sometimes give him a sweet to eat. The little Prince would forget his pain and
go back happily to play.
Even today, I
don’t understand what went wrong for the Prince to become so aggressive. My
friend told me that it’s not only the parents who play a role in a child’s
life. There are other people who can be strong influencers. The Prince’s uncle
– Prince Shakuni. That role was played by my mother-in-law in my life. Maybe
that’s why we never had kids. I was so sure that she will ruin my kid’s life,
regardless of how loving we will be, as parents.
They say that
doubts in the mind are like worms. They feed off from your thoughts, grow
stronger, become beliefs and before you know, they have built a country inside
your mind. So now it’s vice versa, you are living off them.
Prince Shakuni
probably was great in creating doubts in Duryodhan’s gullible mind, including
the feeling that the King never acted as a father to him. The more time passed
and events happened, Duryodhan started sensing unfairness in the way his father
was treated by the wise men of the family, he started feeling the unfairness
towards him too. He felt like an outsider in his own home. Probably, that’s why
he was able to empathize with that charioteer’s son, Karna. When my husband
shared the incident at dinner that night Karna was made king, I reminded him of
how amazing the Prince was. He and his mother made some snorting noises and
stuffed their faces with food. Idiots.
The King and Queen
were very proud of their son for his charitable act. My husband was fortunate
enough to receive 4 gold coins from the King. But I guess, by this time, every
action of the Prince was perceived as arrogance, rebellion or just his
“unpleasant personality”. Regardless of what anyone said or thought, I felt
very sorry for the King, Queen and the Prince. If only someone had attempted to
understand them, instead of calling them names – just like it happens to me.
From thereon, I
could sense some kind of discomfort in the King every day. As I would stand by
his side, I would feel his nervous energy – sadness and tiredness in his soul.
Every time, the Prince (mostly triggered by his uncle) came up with a devious
idea to put the Pandavas down, the King would lose all his strength in driving
sense and reason into his boy’s head. I have seen the Queen once or twice
trying to cheer up the King since we weren’t allowed into their chambers. But I
guess he had lost all hope of making his son see what is good for him. I would
feel the same if I had a son like that. Or maybe I would thrash him till he saw
sense. Or I would not give him food till he behaved himself. But I guess this
is not possible with the rich. They just don’t seem to resort to these methods
to discipline their childr en. What do I know about their lives?
I knew the “end”
was near that day. The unfortunate day when the princes played dice. The King
was extremely anxious and was sweating unbearably. The head of our team of
maids signalled to us to fan faster. My arms hurt and I was already feeling
dizzy with tiredness. The game was harmless till Yudishthir wagered his
brothers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Was this really happening? I, kind of,
believed that they are just doing this for fun – maybe that’s how the rich have
fun. But I was wrong. The idiot of a so-called Dharmaraj wagered his wife next.
I froze with shock and fear. Would they do this to a woman? I had heard gossip
about Draupadi haveing insulted the Prince by calling him the blind son of a
blind father in Indraprastha. Even as a woman, I would say that was not right.
But to disrobe someone!? Oh, the humiliation!
I remembered this
one time when my husband’s friend had tried to flirt with me. My idiot of a
husband didn’t say anything but when I told my brother this, he went and beat
up that guy. For once, the idiot of my mother-in-law shouted at my husband for
not nipping it at the bud. I had people to support me. Did Draupadi?
My fanning hands
felt detached from my body. I could feel warm tears streaming down my face. The
King was crying too – out of shame, fear and humiliation of a woman’s dignity.
So were all the wise, elderly men in the court. What I learnt that day was that
even though men are stronger, braver and more capable physically than women, it
takes much more than that to provide safety and protection to a woman.
Finally, a miracle
happened. Draupadi’s saree would just keep extending. My fear and anger now transformed
into surprise and reverence for Lord Krishna. Only He could have protected a
helpless woman in a court filled with not-so-manly men. The Queen rushed in and
stopped Draupadi from an irrevocable curse to her lineage. I was relieved at
the end of the ordeal. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Fortunately, the
court was dismissed and we were all immediately sent home. We were asked not to
come to work until further information. I was glad to not go back; my arms hurt
terribly too.
I kept getting bits
and pieces of news from my husband and my friends who waited on the Queen in
her chambers. I often thought about how the King was feeling, after such a
damaging event. I got to know that the Pandavas had been sent to exile. 2 days
after that, we were called back to work. The King now seemed relaxed, even
happy – as though nothing had happened. The Prince, his brothers and his
friends had parties every other day for the next 12 years.
This was the time
I have seen the King and Queen most relaxed and happy. In the 13th year,
the Prince (once more fuelled by his uncle) started getting restless. His anger
tantrums were terrible in court. He was just a couple of years older to me but
I am telling you if he were my son, he would have got a nice thrashing from me!
The King’s nervous temperament returned and I sensed that things are going to
take a turn for the worse.
They did.
The Pandavas
completed their exile and returned to Hastinapur. As soon as things seemed
normal, the Prince called for another dice game. Yudishthir may be just and
fair and a really nice person but where the hell was his logic. Couldn't he see
that with Shakuni around, he had no chance of winning?
The King was now
really worried. Fortunately again, Lord Krishna came to the rescue. He offered
that the King give away just 5 villages to each of the Pandava brothers. I
looked at the King's face with some hope that he will take the good
advice. Before he could respond, the Prince retaliated and ordered Lord
Krishna to be taken prisoner. I don't really know or understood what happened
next but the King sprang from his seat, tears flowing from his awe-struck eyes
(as if he had seen something). He groped his way towards Lord Krishna and asked
him to forgive his son.
The Prince, almost
possessed now, flew into rage and demanded war. The court was dismissed
immediately and we were all urgently ushered out of the palace and sent home.
War was unavoidable now.
Back home, I asked
my husband if he wanted to switch over to the Pandava's side for they were sure
to win. I was really afraid of losing him. After all, he was all I had to call
my own. He said that he could die on either side of the armies - a soldier is
just supposed to do his duty. Plus he owed his allegiance to the
King. I wondered if we should leave the kingdom and move somewhere else. But he
told me that most kingdoms were participating in what was the war of dharma. He
wouldn't have a choice, regardless of where we went. Maybe we could go and live
in the forest - like the Pandavas till the war was over.
My fears knew no
bounds; I cried myself to sleep most nights fearing the worst for my husband
and family.
Finally, the
unfortunate day arrived. I said all the possible prayers to all the Gods I
knew. His mother had made all the delicacies he liked. For the first time in
our lives, his mother and I stood at the door, waving him goodbye and praying
for his safe return. We cried and hugged and went back into our hut.
The following
weeks were spent, praying and waiting for the wretched war to end.
The men who would
go into the war-field to attend to the last rites of those who died would bring
back a list every night into the village. The entire village would gather while
names were read out aloud, praying and nervous and yet hopeful. Family members
of the men, whose names didn't make the list, heaved a sigh of relief. They
then had to console the ones who had lost a loved one and make sure they got
home. We also heard of famous, brave warriors being killed in war. When such
stalwarts would die in war, only Fate could save my husband.
Hoping against
hope, I hoped my husband would come back to me.
I heard that it
was the last day of war. Fortunately, my husband's name hadn't made the list.
His mother and I prayed and prepared an elaborate dinner. When evening came, my
heart started sinking. If the war was over, why wasn't he back home? I told his
mother that I had to go and check what happened. She tried to change my mind
and urged me to wait for some more time. But I was done waiting. I had to know
for sure that my husband was alive and well and the fastest way of knowing that
was to go into the war-field myself.
I walked towards
Kurukshetra, chanting God's name constantly. The war-field was not what I was
mentally prepared to see - filled with dust, smoke, despair and some dark
feeling that I couldn't quite understand. Scouring through rubble of broken
chariots, mangled bodies, injured soldiers, my eyes searched for my
husband.
I found him, under
the rubble of a broken chariot - his legs wedged under one of its wheels. I
tried to pull out his leg but the wheel was too heavy. I called out to some
villagers who had also come to search for their relatives. They helped me
safely remove the wheel from my husband's leg. I hugged him and we sat there,
weeping tears of joy, on the dusty war-field with his head on my lap.
After what seemed
an eternity, I looked around and saw Kunti, crying over a young man. Which of
her sons had died, I wondered? I had heard that they had won the war. I didn’t know
which of her sons had perished. I overheard someone say that Karna was Kunti’s
son. Whaat?!! How could this be? How unfortunate can a mother be – to have a
son and abandon him, not be able to call him her son for her entire life and to
lose him, without having spent a single moment as a mother.
The Queen also was
being escorted to mourn the loss of her sons. She had no one left, except her
husband.
As I walked out of
the war-field with my husband, I realized that even if the problems of the rich
and poor, what they ultimately seek is the same. My life was definitely different
as compared to Dhritarashtra. I still had my family.
