A Different Path

Son

Karna knew something was wrong. He could see it in the way the Bhavin had his head bowed and was refusing to meet his eyes. Karna had been waiting for close to two hours to be shown the guest room where he would be staying but one look at the head of royal servants and he just knew. Still, he waited for Bhavin to say it as a confirmation. He gritted his teeth and felt hot pain sear his heart because even though he knew he deserved this, he hadn't expected it to come from her.

Maybe Uncle Shakuni or Dushasana, but certainly not Mata Gandhari.

He nodded at Bhavin, patted his arm and then left without a word. In that moment, he felt more sorry for Bhavin than he felt for himself. Poor man couldn't even bring himself to say it. Bowing in the direction of the Ganesha Temple, he took a detour, hoping that the walk would ease his nerves as he quietly made his way to his childhood home. Yes, where else could he go now.

Forgive me Maharathi Karna but......Mata Gandhari.....she ordered me to inform you that you are.........not welcome to stay inside the palace grounds.

By then Karna was certain that Bhavin would break down, so he quietened him and ignored the hollow, empty feeling in his chest. He could comprehend Mata Gandhari's consternation at having him here and decided not to torment her; he left without a word, even though this was a gross insult on their part to act this way to a guest. He wondered if King Dhritarshtra knew about this, considering he had almost begged for his assistance in his letters.

But Karna was so used to being insulted that it didn't sting him that much. Maybe that's why he had not lost his temper in the royal sabha when every facet of his being was derided by the same men who he had vanquished in his world conquests. He could feel the hatred pouring off them in waves, their revulsion at his audacity to come back to Hastinapur after what he had done a year ago. Some of them were justified in their anger, even Karna had to agree to that, but most of the kings had used this opportunity to malign him for no other reason but the fact that he was a lowborn and they hated him for it. He knew that according to Kshatriya Dharma victory in battle was quintessential to gain respect and glory in the eyes of other warriors and defeat was the ultimate damnation. But to be subjugated by someone who was undeserving of even holding a weapon would surely be an even bigger disgrace. No wonder they hated him. He reminded them of their own incompetence.

He walked away from the shining lights of the city and deeper into the lanes of thatched huts that all looked the same. He had entered the part that was housed by the less fortunate like him and he gazed wistfully, remembering the childhood he had spent here. His father had their house constructed some feet away from the houses of the other charioteers and closer to the forests so that Karna could practice his archery without any disturbance. As he moved closer to his childhood home he tried to ignore the pang of hurt at the sight of several widows, washing utensils near the local pond, taking out their frustration at destiny's lack of compassion on the already bent utensils. His heart sank when he saw old, wearied parents sitting close together lamenting why they were alive when their sons weren't. Children ran amuck, unruly and wild, having no one to teach them discipline, no one to hold them and guide them for their lives ahead. The gut wrenching pain of loss was so apparent that Karna could hardly breathe and he quickened his pace, cursing himself for taking the longer route.

He had no idea how to describe the feeling in his chest when he finally reached his home. The sturdy residence stood proud and welcoming, having beaten both weather and time ,waiting for its masters to return. Karna entered his house tentatively, noticing the mouldy smell that seemed to permeate through the walls. His father had insisted that he would live here despite his repeated requests to join him in Anga. He even refused to stay at the palace that Duryodhana had constructed for him to live in when Karna visited Hastinapura. It was only when his health began to deteriorate did he allow himself to be dragged out of his ancestral home. But Karna could understand. There was something truly sacred about this place.