Dawn's Reverie
As the first light of dawn painted the eastern sky with hues of soft pink and warm orange, Roruka Palace emerged from the shadows like a majestic gem in the heart of the landscape.
The air, cool and crisp, carried the gentle whispers of the night as it gradually yielded to the promise of a new day. The sprawling gardens encircling Roruka Palace were adorned with exotic flowers, their petals delicately cradling the remnants of dew from the night. The soft fragrance of blossoms blended with the earthy scent of dew-kissed grass.
As the sun peeked over the horizon, its golden rays bathed the palace in a gradual, warm glow. The intricate carvings on the palace walls seemed to come alive, casting elaborate patterns of light and shadow. Reflective surfaces of the windows shimmered, capturing the first rays of sunlight and scattering them like a cascade of diamonds.
Awakening from my slumber, I marveled at the remarkable precision of this body's biological clock. Rising at dawn without the need for an alarm, I ventured to the balcony to inhale the refreshing morning air, dispelling any lingering sleepiness. The garden's beauty, especially in the fading autumn, never failed to captivate me. "Let's take a walk, shall we?" I completed my morning routine and set out for a stroll, a much-needed rejuvenation before dealing with the sinister brother in laws of mine. I had to ensure I was in the best state of mind.
Clad in simple attire, I strode out for a walk, realizing that the vast expanse of the palace grounds remained largely unexplored by me. The cool air and the light fragrance of the garden's flowers could calm even the most agitated elephant. As I walked, a faint sound of someone reciting mantras reached my ears.
As I approached a small pond, the gentle recitation of mantras grew clearer, leading me to the source of the sound. There, by the water's edge, a tall figure was outlined against the backdrop of the awakening palace and the radiant dawn.
Karna, adorned in his magnificent armor bestowed upon him from the divine, exuded a profound sense of tranquility as he engaged in a ritualistic offering to the Sun God. This is the divine armor bestowed upon him from birth, as radiant as the sun itself, boasting a brownish-golden hue and intricate details. Many believe that if not for those curses, Karna possessed the potential to single-handedly alter the course of the Mahabharata. With a copper vessel in hand, he gracefully poured water into the pond, chanting sacred verses that resonated with a deep spiritual connection. The ripples in the water mirrored the rhythmic cadence of his chants.
Captivated by the scene, I decided to approach quietly, not wanting to disrupt Karna's communion with the divine. As I drew closer, he acknowledged my presence with a serene nod, indicating that I was welcome to join him in this sacred moment. With a gesture of humility, I stood beside him, silently observing the ritual unfolding before us.
The rising sun, now fully visible in the sky, cast a warm embrace over the pond, illuminating the surroundings with a golden glow. Karna's devotion was palpable, and the air seemed charged with a sacred energy. I marveled at the synchronicity of the scene—the majestic Roruka Palace awakening behind us, the pristine pond reflecting the morning light, and a son offering his reverence to his father, the Sun God. Silently, I stood there, reflecting on the tale of this son of the Sun God, abandoned by his mother at birth.
The story unfolds during Maharishi Durvasa's visit to Kuntibhoj, a time when Kunti, the future mother of the Pandavas, was not yet married to Pandu, the prince of Hastinapur. Princess Kunti spared no effort in serving the demanding sage, known for his dangerous temper but generous nature. Maharishi Durvasa, pleased by Kunti's hospitality, granted her a mantra that could invoke any god of her choice, promising her the blessing of children.
After Maharishi Durvasa's departure, Kunti, driven by impetuous curiosity, invoked the Sun God, Surya, using the mantra. Bound by the power of the sacred words, Surya blessed her with a child—a healthy son as majestic as the sun, adorned with an armor and a pair of golden kundals (earrings). Discovering her child playing in her lap, Kunti was horrified, realizing she was now an unmarried mother. Fearing societal judgment and the potential embarrassment to her family, she succumbed to the norms of Vedic civilization, where an unmarried girl giving birth was less likely to find a suitor.
To erase the existence of her firstborn, Kunti placed the newborn in a padded basket and set it adrift in the small river Ashvanadi by the palace. The basket floated downstream, reaching the river Charmanwati, which carried it to the Yamuna River. Continuing its journey, the basket reached the Ganges River and eventually the kingdom of Anga. There, it was discovered by the childless charioteer Adhiratha, who promptly adopted the baby and named him Vasusena.
Adhiratha and his wife Radha embraced Karna as their own, raising him with love and care. The demigod, excelling in every aspect compared to his peers, found himself isolated from a young age. As he grew, his adoptive father revealed to Karna that he had found and adopted him. This revelation deeply affected Karna, triggering a sense of shame and abandonment that would shape his self-identity throughout the epic.
Possessing an extraordinary talent in archery, Karna garnered encouragement from those around him to seek a master. Driven by determination to learn from the best, he approached Guru Dronacharya at a time when the revered teacher was instructing the princes of Hastinapur—the 100 Kauravas and the 5 Pandavas.
When Karna sought acceptance as a disciple, he showcased his archery skills, demonstrating proficiency on par with Arjun, Dronacharya's most talented and favored student.Anticipating praise, Karna was instead met with a probing question: "What is your origin?" This inquiry echoed the relentless scrutiny that had shadowed him throughout his life. Responding that he was the son of a charioteer, his answer echoed through the disciples' hearty laughter. In the face of this revelation, Dronacharya, influenced by societal biases, refused to accept Karna as his student.
Fueling his unwavering determination to learn from the very best, Karna sought admission to Lord Parshuram's ashram, where Dronacharya had received his teachings. At that time, Lord Parshuram exclusively instructed Brahmins who successfully passed his rigorous tests. To overcome this obstacle, Karna disguised himself as a Brahmin and gained acceptance. Diligently, he immersed himself in learning, earning appreciation from his teacher. Lord Parshuram even bestowed upon him his cherished bow, Vijaya, which had the boon that its wielder would never face defeat.
However, fate's unkindness persisted in Karna's story. His deceit was eventually discovered by his teacher, who, in response, cursed him to forget all the knowledge acquired at the moment of dire need. Despite being banished from his teacher's ashram, Karna, fueled by the determination to prove Dronacharya wrong, returned to Hastinapur.
At that time, the princes of Hastinapur had just returned from their coaching and were showcasing their skills to the public. Arjuna, with his magnificent archery, gained widespread popularity, prompting Dronacharya to proclaim that no one on Earth could match Arjuna's pure archery skills. However, a single dissenting voice emerged as Karna entered the arena, challenging Arjuna to a duel. Yet again, the persistent question about Karna's origin resurfaced. What is your Origin? Undeterred, Karna reiterated that he was the son of Adhiratha, the charioteer of Bhisma, only to be met with ridicule from the crowd. However, this time, he was not alone; a solitary figure stood by his side—Prince Duryodhana.
According to Vedic Civilization, a royal prince can only be challenged by another royalty or King of a country. In a moment of profound generosity, Duryodhana bestowed the kingdom of Anga upon Karna, instantly making him a king and altering his identity forever. Karna vowed unwavering loyalty to Duryodhana, the only one who stood for him and extended a helping hand, declaring that he would stand by Duryodhana's side until his last breath, his only friend.
As the inevitable war approached, the forces were divided between the Kauravas and Pandavas. Many powerful individuals sided with Duryodhana, including the formidable Mahamahi Bhisma, Guru Dronacharya, and Kripacharya. Yet, a critical question loomed: who would assume the role of the commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army?
Among these warriors stood two accomplished maharathis, each possessing exceptional prowess. Mahamahi Bhisma, with centuries of experience and the boon of icha mrutyu (control over the time of his death), emerged as one option. The other contender was Karna, equipped with an impenetrable armor capable of thwarting even a brahmastra and unparalleled skills in archery.
However, Bhisma staunchly declared his refusal to fight alongside or under a Suta (son of a charioteer). Consequently, Duryodhana, recognizing Bhisma's invincibility, appointed him as the commander-in-chief, confident that he could not be defeated. Despite this strategic move, the battlefield witnessed the fall of Bhisma on the 11th day, leaving a significant void.
In the wake of Bhishma's incapacitation, Karna stepped into the fray, adding a new dynamic to the conflict. Acting on Karna's counsel, Duryodhana appointed Guru Dronacharya as the new commander-in-chief for the Kaurava forces, marking a pivotal moment in the unfolding epic of the Mahabharata.
On that fateful day, with Karna's entrance onto the battlefield, the tide of battle shifted decisively from favoring the Pandavas to supporting the Kauravas. Following the appointment of Drona as the commander-in-chief, the conflict raged on. However, on the 15th day, Drona fell, and Karna assumed the role of the supreme commander.
Surrounded and relentlessly attacked by Pandava generals, Karna, demonstrating his formidable skills, withstood their onslaught. Despite the concerted efforts of the Pandava forces, they found themselves unable to defeat him. Karna, in turn, unleashed devastating blows upon the Pandava army, inflicting heavy damage.
[A/N: 'That was like, it's not that you are surrounding me; I am surrounding you (•_•) ( •_•)>⌐■-■ (⌐■_■)' ]
Yet again fate dealt a bitter hand to Karna. Later that night, his biological mother approached him in secret, unveiling her circumstances and the profound sorrow of losing her eldest son. She attempted to persuade him to change sides, but Karna staunchly refused. The wounds of hatred and humiliation ran too deep, and he could not betray the years of friendship and favor he had received from Duryodhana.
In a poignant moment, Kunti, Karna's mother, pleaded for the safety of her five sons, appealing to Karna's sense of compassion as a mother. As a warrior, Karna couldn't deny his mother's request and assured her that he would not harm his other four sons, except Arjuna. Tomorrow's battle would decide the fate of the five brothers.
The next morning, during his prayer to Surya Dev (the Sun God), Karna encountered Indra Dev disguised as a Brahmin. Indra requested Karna's divine armor (Kawach) and earlobes (Kundal). True to his habit of granting anything asked for after his morning prayer, Karna complied. In a symbolic act, Karna cut his birthmarks of immortality with a knife and offered the blood-soaked donation to Indra.
In return, Indra healed Karna and gifted him a celestial dart called Vasavi Shakti, a powerful weapon that could be used only once. The much-anticipated battle between Arjuna and Karna unfolded fiercely on the 17th day. As the intensity of the battle increased, Karna advanced, but his chariot wheel got trapped in the mud due to a curse from goddess Earth. In a crucial moment, he forgot the incantations to invoke the Brahmastra, a consequence of his guru Parashurama's curse.
Karna, displaying the etiquette of war, got down from his chariot to free the wheel and asked Arjuna to pause. However, seizing the opportunity, Arjuna used Anjalikastra to kill Karna, decapitating him and sealing his fate. Arjuna's action was necessitated by Karna's curses from Goddess Earth and a Brahmin. The Earth Goddess had cursed Karna that his chariot wheel would get stuck in the land, leading to his death. Additionally, a saint had cursed Karna that he would die when weaponless, as Karna had killed his cow when it was helpless.
Thus concluded the tale of Suryaputra, the son of the Sun.
"Sindhu Raj?" I snapped back to reality when Karna, having finished his prayers, called my name.
"Ah....Good morning, AngaRaj," I greeted, shattering the tranquil silence of the morning. "How was your sleep?"
"Good morning. I had a pleasant sleep," Karna replied, his voice resonating with the serenity of the early hour.
I couldn't help but question his choice to bathe in the open courtyard. "AngaRaj, why are you taking a bath here? You could have ordered the servants to fetch some water."
Karna, sincerity reflected in his eyes, responded, "It's okay. I like it this way, and I can also pray in peace."
"I see," I acknowledged, allowing a moment of silence to linger before broaching a more delicate subject. "It's good that I found you here. I wanted to discuss something."
A faint furrow appeared on Karna's brow, a reaction that did not escape my notice. Jayadratha, though never overtly disrespectful towards Karna, had always subtly looked down on him due to his origins. Now, as I approached the conversation with deliberate humility, I anticipated a certain response. Proceeding cautiously, I pressed on, "Can I ask you a favor?"