Abhimanyu - The Mahabharata Chronicles #14

Soma looked down on the battlefield.

Today is the 12^th night of the war at Kurukshetra. Soon it will be the 13^th day and a much important one at that, for it is then that Varchas turns 16. The day he will come back to me. I have missed him so much these last few years.

For 16 years, I have been separated from my son. I have pined for him. I have wondered whether it was a mistake to send him down as a human, as my amsa, for the greater good.

Like I have been doing every night for the last 16 years, I peek down through the shimmery curtains, at his taut form. The warrior that he has become. Progeny of Nara. Nephew to Narayana. And trained in the martial arts by the Yadavas themselves. Does he sense my presence? Does he remember that his father is yearning for him? Or is he in all senses a true Kshatriya prince now, about to become a father himself?

Oh! How I remember that conversation with Narayana, when he came to me asking for Varchas to be incarnated as a warrior to cleanse the earth. I remember how hesitant I was. I was wondering what would be the politest way to refuse The Lord himself. I couldn’t be away from my boy for a fraction of a second, he was my favourite after all. But Narayana was insistent. He was very convincing and his persuasive powers were of course legendary. I was ready to give in, but I had a few conditions of my own.

---- X ----

Krishna looked up at Chandra. He could see the moon-god smiling in all his glory. It was evident that he was happy, for after all, his beloved son was returning home the next day.

He looked at Abhimanyu. Warrior Prince. Draupadi’s favourite son of all the Pandava offspring even if he wasn’t her own. The blood of the Pandavas and the Yadavas ran in him. He was so skilled that he could probably take on the entire army of Kauravas and disintegrate them. Married to crown-princess Uttara, he was about to father the first grandchild of two historic empires. He had so much to look forward to. And yet his life would end even before it began.

---- X ----

I saw Krishna looking up at me, his face scrunched up enigmatically. I sent his way a flutter of breeze, gently reminding him of his promise to me, and the conditions that applied to it.

When I agreed to let Varchas be incarnated, I wanted him to be born into the mightiest empire there was. I wanted the blood of Nara to run in his veins. Krishna did even better, he ensured that the boy would have the bloodlines of both Nara and Narayana himself.

I also asked for him to be returned to me after 16 years. I knew I was asking him to be returned to me in his prime, but I couldn’t let myself be away from him longer than that. Krishna agreed. He also ordained that the boy would be one of the mightiest warriors the world would see and that he would be the fulcrum for the great war that was to ensue.

I knew Varchas was in safe hands and agreed to Narayana’s words.

With a heavy heart, I sent down my son.

---- X ----

Krishna thought back to the time when Abhimanyu was conceived.

He realized that he had more than one reason to agree to Chandra’s demands, though it became clearer to him only then. Subhadra unknowingly had knocked open a box he had hidden, thereby unleashing the soul of King Kalayavan, whom Krishna had imprisoned inside. The soul looking for a place to hide, had taken refuge in Subhadra’s womb attaching itself to the foetus inside.

Abhimanyu was not yet born when he overheard Arjuna talking to Subhadra and explaining to her about war strategies. Narayana could sense his eagerness to hear more and he could see that the baby was comprehending each and every word spoken. He could see that the foetus was straining to catch every syllable so as to not miss anything. In order to thwart the knowledge falling into his hands, much before he may have been due to learn it, He used his powers to lull Subhadra to sleep, thus putting a stop to the war tactics being discussed.

Precocious child Abhimanyu was. His head was always held high, his stature tall and his demeanour a tad proud, owing to the blood that ran in his veins. After all, there were very few who could take on the combined strength of the Yadavas and the Pandavas. Inquisitive about everything, and keen to learn, he grasped mastery over weapons, war tactics and strategies much quicker than anyone I knew. The reason lay in his previous birth, when he was a much-feared king. After all, old habits do die hard. Once in a while, Krishna could discern a gleam in his eyes, a simmering anger, a sort of restlessness as though something was trying to escape him. He sensed that there was one way he could provide liberation to the trapped soul as well as fulfil Chandra’s conditions.

---- X ----

The 13^th day dawned.

Hiding in the shadows of Surya, I looked down at the unfolding scene.

The time of reckoning drew near.

Promising to protect his uncle, Yudhisthira, Abhimanyu tried to break into the Chakravyuha, created by Drona, the great teacher himself. The Pandavas, unable to follow him through the momentary gap, soon found themselves crying out for him and his safety.

Nara and Narayana were occupied at one end of the battlefield, while their disciple wreaked havoc at the other end.

My son was unstoppable that day. He rampaged through the Kaurava forces, killing whoever came in his way, counting several maharathis as well as injuring the greatest of the Kaurava warriors including Karna and Duryodhana. The Kauravas were astounded by his prowess and in a fit of frustration and fury, broke one of the cardinal rules of war.

[Pic Courtesy: http://aroundtheworldin80nights.blogspot.sg/2012/07/chakravyuha-deadliest-of-formations-and.html]

Seven elite warriors, all great in their own right, attacked my son together. More rules were broken in the wake of the first one; when his bowstrings were cut from behind, his steeds killed and his charioteers too. Forced to fight on foot, protecting himself with a sword and a shield, my son raced forth. They broke his sword, and shattered his shield.  Powerless now, he looked around and picked up a chariot wheel and charged at them, but they broke that too. He picked up a mace and killed as many people as he could, displaying more strength and valour than any of the cowards around him. However, while combating with Dusshasana’s son, tired, decimated and injured beyond compare, he knocked out his opponent and fell to the ground in a swoon as well. But before he could come to, his opponent who had awakened, struck him on his head and killed him.

In those last few moments, I could see the light ebb out of my son’s eyes. The gleam dimmed, a small whiff of breath escaped him, and through that the soul of Kalayavan attained Moksha for having fought on the righteous side.

Knowing that he was now truly Varchas in form, deed and glory, Chandra remembered Nara’s blessings to Abhimanyu, when they first set out for war.

“Yashasvi Bhava”

“May you attain eternal success with no obstacles in the way of achievement.”

Abhimanyu’s heroic death would now be the pivotal point which ensured the deaths of the unrighteous because of the traitorous means engaged to slay him.

My son achieved glory as a warrior should on the battlefield. He died fighting till his last breath and he would forever be remembered as the greatest warrior who fought for righteousness and demolished a fourth of the Kaurava army all by himself. 

Uloopi, Queen of Nagas - The Mahabharata Chronicles #7

I see him. Sprawled on the battlefield. Struck in the chest. The greatest archer in the world. Killed by the son I brought up. His son.

I see the Empress - my son’s mother. Beating her chest. Lamenting. Crying for her husband who was dead. Sobbing for her son who was the cause of it.

I see the king - my son. In a stupor. Unable to understand how this had come about. Unable to fathom that he had just killed his father. His father whom he was seeing for the very first time.

I see them both look at me. With questions in their eyes. With blame etched on their faces. No words uttered.

I should be there with them. On the battlefield. Lamenting my husband’s death. Consoling my son. Holding my dead husband’s head on my lap. Hugging his inert body close to my chest. Sobbing for being a widow once over again.

Yet, I smiled.

I remembered the day I had seen him for the first time. By the riverside. Offering his ablutions. Praying earnestly. His sinewed arms. The calmness that pervaded him. The battle scars that glistened as he went about his daily routine. The strong baritone that uttered the mantras to invoke and appease the mighty ones.

I knew who he was and what he was doing in the forest. Why he was there and what had brought him there.

The great Pandava Prince. Krishna’s comrade. The one who had won Draupadi’s hand at her swayamvara. The prodigious son of Kunti - Arjuna.

Ever since I had heard of his prowess at Panchal, I had been waiting for a sight of him, for a vision of the great warrior who had vanquished countless kingpins and their armies. Even without setting my eyes on him, I had surrendered my heart to him. I – Uloopi, the Naga princess, had lost her heart to a mortal. However, this was no mere mortal. This was Indra himself, glorified in his amsa as Gandivdhanava. The day I saw him, I knew that my dreams had not been in vain. I remembered staring at him unabashedly. Wanting to make him mine forever. Wanting to be with him forever.

                                          [http://saryth.deviantart.com/art/Naga-queen-268752312]

Overcome by the god of desire, passion coursing through every pore of my body, I overpowered the warrior prince during his daily ablutions one morning and dragged him down to my world, hoping for a chance to convince him to accept me and behold me. Unwilling as he was, bound by the oath of celibacy he was forced to undertake as part of the pact between the brothers, I debated with him, forced him to consider what I was proposing, and gave him my word that I wouldn’t hold him back a minute longer if he chose to leave. I reasoned with him that his oath only bound him to be celibate with respect to Draupadi, and not to other women. Intoxicated by desire, convinced by my arguments, the son of Pandu gave into my demands.

Those were blissful days. Everything was perfect with the world, and nothing could go wrong. There were no threats to ward off and no enemies to vanquish. It was a peaceful and serene world that we were in. Our union brought forth a perfect offspring whom I named Iravan. He was the epitome of his father, flawless in every aspect, distinguished by the thirty-six marks that made him a perfect man, as like his father.  

Soon, the day I was dreading did come to pass and I had to let go of Arjuna. Back to his kith and kin, even though we were also part of the same; back to his life, to his dharma. I knew that the minute he left the waters of Ganges, he would have no memory of us. Not of me. Not of his son. Not of the times, we spent together in the netherworlds. However, his dharma beckoned and mine was to let him go in order to fulfill it. I had after all given him my word that it would be so, if he willed it. Therefore, for the very last time, I embraced him, bestowed upon him the gift that he would be invincible against all water-borne threats and prepared to send him upon his way.

Years later, when Iravan, now a strapping young man, heard of the Great War at Kurukshetra, he expressed his desire to go meet his father and offer his services. Much as I dissuaded him from going to a place, where no one would recognize him or care for him as one of their own, he was determined to head on to meet his father and help him out on the battlefield. What I dreaded ensued. Iravan, being one of the three perfect warriors on the side of Dharma, was requested to sacrifice his life to Kali to ensure victory in the war. My son willingly gave up his life for his father’s victory, a father who did not even remember him, a father who acknowledged him as his son only to have more warriors that are able on their side of the war. And what could I do, except accept it as my son’s destiny and move on with life.

I had heard of Arjuna’s other marriages during his 12 year self-exile, one of them being to Chitrangada, warrior princess of Manipura. I went ahead to meet her, introducing myself as I did so. She accepted me as her sister and entrusted me with the care of her son – Babruvahana, a boy like none other. I took care of him as I did my own son, Iravan and trained him in the art of war and mastery of weapons. The winds that flew from the battlefield, had whispered into my ears, a curse that had been laid upon Arjuna for the offence of felling the grand-sire of the dynasty, Bhishma. Cursed by the other Vasus, that Arjuna would meet his death at the hands of his son this was made known to me by the river-goddess Ganga, whose waters I inhabited from time to time. I looked up to her for advice on how to alleviate the curse from my husband and she was the one who guided me to use the fabled Mritasanjivini gem of my clan. This gem, with its miraculous properties could bring back the dead to life. Therefore, I had landed at my foster-son’s kingdom to witness the scene that had just unfolded in front of my eyes.

Following the sacred horse from the Ashwamedha Yagna that his elder brother Yudhishthira was conducting, Arjuna had landed at the city of Manipura and challenged Babruvahana to a duel. When my foster son looked upon me for counsel, I had asked him to go ahead and engage his father in battle. After a fierce duel, a well-placed arrow had found its mark and had struck the mightiest archer in the world dead. While mother and son glared at me with blame etched on their faces, seeking answers to what had just transpired; I had smiled and moved over to do my part.

I brought back my husband to life with the powers bestowed upon me through my ancestors.

When he awoke, Arjuna embraced his son and rejoiced in his prowess. He was delighted to see his wife, Chitrangada and exulted in the fact that their son was a fine warrior indeed. However, he had no recollection of me. I was not part of his memories. He only had a vague remembrance of a Naga princess that he had met once on his voyages. To him, I was inconsequential. Just as his son, Iravan, who had sacrificed his life for his father’s success had been.

I, on the other hand, have no grievances whatsoever. I am content with my reminiscences of him. Of the times that we spent in my world.  

To the world, I may be one of Arjuna’s many wives. To Arjuna, I may have just been another conquest on his journey of life.

My son sacrificed his life to ensure his father’s triumph.

The very least I could do was to ensure his efforts do not end up in vain.

In the cycle of Karmic dues, I have fulfilled my Dharma.

To me, that is the utmost gratification of the life that I have striven to live. 

I am Uloopi – Queen of Nagas. Descendent of the mighty Airavata. Daughter of King Kauravya. Wife to Arjuna.

And, most importantly, Mother of Iravan.