Beside the King's throne

• 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 13^th 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.