It was an important day in his life - a day when his future destiny
was going to be determined along with that of his brothers - brothers in
blood who were being homed at a relative's place due to the unfortunate
circumstances in their father's life , brothers sharing the same father
but had been birthed by different women, brothers equal in stature but
for the deep affection their father harbored for his most favored son , a
son who was so sure of his destiny , that he was sleeping soundly while
his brothers lay awake - nervous , anxious and disturbed.
He had been named Srutakirti - the one with the sharp intellect and true to his name , he had known that he was not the favorite son from very early on. He had been all but two years when Abhimanyu was born - Abhimanyu who was named by his father , Abhimanyu who was his mother's favorite - Abhimanyu who was destined for greater things.
He still remembered the day when his father had caught hold of Shubadra ma and had gone on to explain the intricacies of breaking into the Chakravyuh , so that the baby can get a head start on war strategies . He had been so jealous that day , that he'd demanded that he had the right to be instructed by his father before anyone else including the baby. While his Shubadra ma had laughed at the statement and had beckoned him closer , Uncle Krsna had rudely asked him to mind his business and his father had silently agreed and did nothing to interrupt the palace servant who was called to escort the little prince to his quarters.
That day he'd taken a vow - a vow that he'd make his father sit up and take notice of what a fine son he had ; a son who was so much like him ; a son who would better than the simpering Abhimanyu ; a son who was courageous , valiant and intelligent ; a son who held his nerves in times of trouble ; a son who was fit to succeed his father as the commander-in-chief ; a son who'd be worthy of Partha .
He had assumed it to be an easy task - an easy task of aping Arjuna ; an easy task of adopting his father's likes , dislikes , traits and values - how delusional he'd been. He had tried hard in the beginning. He worked on his archery skills ; sharpened his dressing skills and worked on his dancing . He'd even taken to dressing like his father - despite being very uncomfortable with the poncy attire the man wore - but to no effect. The man whom he'd tried to impress was so tied up in his youngest son , that he failed to notice the efforts his eldest took - efforts to belong ; efforts to blend in with his idol. He'd nearly given up his vow that day - a day when he realized that he was an unwanted cog in his family - a family who seemed to forget that he'd existed - a family who'd not bother if he vanished; a family who did not notice one of their own; stray away into the forest.
But it had mattered - mattered to a man who had a similar past - who knew the pain of being ignored ; a man who had rescued the child from the dark , deep jungle ; a man who had cared enough to notice an intelligent child who was desperate to belong ; a man who had nursed him back to health ; a man who had become his father - daata in all but name ; a man who he'd taken to calling as baba ; a man who understood his thirst to prove a point - A man who would not feel bad , if his son did not tread his path.
His thoughts were interrupted , as the sevak called out for permission to enter the room - It was judgment day and the maharaj wanted the princes to assemble at the Sabha in half an hour's time.Dismissing the servant , he proceeded to wake his siblings awake - it would not do them good to be late today ; the day when they were to decide their future course of education. As his brothers proceeded to prepare themselves , he flopped into a chair as exhaustion claimed him. He'd had a tough week so far. His archery skills had been put to extreme test , not counting the numerous rematches Uncle Krsna had called when he managed to outperform Abhimanyu. He thought that the old man was flabbergasted - flabbergasted that his nephew who'd had the liberty of extensive training had been outwitted by the outcast of a brother - a brother who was supposed to be a dunce when it came to archery - a brother who had somehow managed to gain expertise without his father's guidance.
His thoughts also wandered to his other uncle Balram , who'd been delighted with his performance with the mace , who'd proclaimed him as a nonpareil in the art of boxing - who'd screamed his throat hoarse with cries of "Sadhu" every time he had managed to out maneuver his opponent - who was delighted with his progress unlike his other uncle and who'd be extremely angry if he was late on this momentous day.
As he made his way to the Mahasabha , he thought about the vow he'd made long back ; the vow to make his daata sit up and take notice ; a vow thinking about which - he smiled ; a smile which was eerily similar to that of his uncle ; who was the king of Dwaraka.
As he walked towards the hall ; he could hear a sound cheer - a cheer which indicated that Abhimanyu , the favored prince had entered behind him - A cheer which overwhelmed the herald's announcement of his name , a cheer which ended abruptly as he made his way towards the decorated table beside which his uncles were waiting - a table which held the objects that would shape his destiny - a table which held a bow which was used by his father and the mace used by his baba.
As glanced at the objects he was reminded of another vow - a vow he had made to his baba - a vow not to make hasty choices ; a vow to carve his own path and identity and he chose the mace - that very mace his baba had used to kill Jarasandha - that very mace he'd learn to master and control - that very mace he'd call his own one day.
As the crowd cheered for him listlessly ; Srutakeerti was proud ; proud that he'd made his name ; proud that he had a father who'd understand his decision ; proud that he'd finally overcome the demons of his childhood and for the first time in life he smiled - a sunny bright smile which made him look very similar to Arjun - the unfortunate Arjun who'd lost a son that day.
**************************************************************************
PS : In the Mahabharata , Srutakeerti was the son of Arjun , borne to him by Draupadi. While there are numerous descriptions of Abhimanyu and Iravaan , the other sons of Arjun - very little information is available on Srutakeerti - which made me think if this prince was an ignored child - a second child who was not his father's favorite like the eldest and his mother's pet like his youngest.
It also made me think that He'd have had an affinity to Bhima - Bhima who was a middle child like him - Bhima who was underrated despite his many redeeming qualities. These were the thoughts that resulted in this story being written :-)
He had been named Srutakirti - the one with the sharp intellect and true to his name , he had known that he was not the favorite son from very early on. He had been all but two years when Abhimanyu was born - Abhimanyu who was named by his father , Abhimanyu who was his mother's favorite - Abhimanyu who was destined for greater things.
He still remembered the day when his father had caught hold of Shubadra ma and had gone on to explain the intricacies of breaking into the Chakravyuh , so that the baby can get a head start on war strategies . He had been so jealous that day , that he'd demanded that he had the right to be instructed by his father before anyone else including the baby. While his Shubadra ma had laughed at the statement and had beckoned him closer , Uncle Krsna had rudely asked him to mind his business and his father had silently agreed and did nothing to interrupt the palace servant who was called to escort the little prince to his quarters.
That day he'd taken a vow - a vow that he'd make his father sit up and take notice of what a fine son he had ; a son who was so much like him ; a son who would better than the simpering Abhimanyu ; a son who was courageous , valiant and intelligent ; a son who held his nerves in times of trouble ; a son who was fit to succeed his father as the commander-in-chief ; a son who'd be worthy of Partha .
He had assumed it to be an easy task - an easy task of aping Arjuna ; an easy task of adopting his father's likes , dislikes , traits and values - how delusional he'd been. He had tried hard in the beginning. He worked on his archery skills ; sharpened his dressing skills and worked on his dancing . He'd even taken to dressing like his father - despite being very uncomfortable with the poncy attire the man wore - but to no effect. The man whom he'd tried to impress was so tied up in his youngest son , that he failed to notice the efforts his eldest took - efforts to belong ; efforts to blend in with his idol. He'd nearly given up his vow that day - a day when he realized that he was an unwanted cog in his family - a family who seemed to forget that he'd existed - a family who'd not bother if he vanished; a family who did not notice one of their own; stray away into the forest.
But it had mattered - mattered to a man who had a similar past - who knew the pain of being ignored ; a man who had rescued the child from the dark , deep jungle ; a man who had cared enough to notice an intelligent child who was desperate to belong ; a man who had nursed him back to health ; a man who had become his father - daata in all but name ; a man who he'd taken to calling as baba ; a man who understood his thirst to prove a point - A man who would not feel bad , if his son did not tread his path.
His thoughts were interrupted , as the sevak called out for permission to enter the room - It was judgment day and the maharaj wanted the princes to assemble at the Sabha in half an hour's time.Dismissing the servant , he proceeded to wake his siblings awake - it would not do them good to be late today ; the day when they were to decide their future course of education. As his brothers proceeded to prepare themselves , he flopped into a chair as exhaustion claimed him. He'd had a tough week so far. His archery skills had been put to extreme test , not counting the numerous rematches Uncle Krsna had called when he managed to outperform Abhimanyu. He thought that the old man was flabbergasted - flabbergasted that his nephew who'd had the liberty of extensive training had been outwitted by the outcast of a brother - a brother who was supposed to be a dunce when it came to archery - a brother who had somehow managed to gain expertise without his father's guidance.
His thoughts also wandered to his other uncle Balram , who'd been delighted with his performance with the mace , who'd proclaimed him as a nonpareil in the art of boxing - who'd screamed his throat hoarse with cries of "Sadhu" every time he had managed to out maneuver his opponent - who was delighted with his progress unlike his other uncle and who'd be extremely angry if he was late on this momentous day.
As he made his way to the Mahasabha , he thought about the vow he'd made long back ; the vow to make his daata sit up and take notice ; a vow thinking about which - he smiled ; a smile which was eerily similar to that of his uncle ; who was the king of Dwaraka.
As he walked towards the hall ; he could hear a sound cheer - a cheer which indicated that Abhimanyu , the favored prince had entered behind him - A cheer which overwhelmed the herald's announcement of his name , a cheer which ended abruptly as he made his way towards the decorated table beside which his uncles were waiting - a table which held the objects that would shape his destiny - a table which held a bow which was used by his father and the mace used by his baba.
As glanced at the objects he was reminded of another vow - a vow he had made to his baba - a vow not to make hasty choices ; a vow to carve his own path and identity and he chose the mace - that very mace his baba had used to kill Jarasandha - that very mace he'd learn to master and control - that very mace he'd call his own one day.
As the crowd cheered for him listlessly ; Srutakeerti was proud ; proud that he'd made his name ; proud that he had a father who'd understand his decision ; proud that he'd finally overcome the demons of his childhood and for the first time in life he smiled - a sunny bright smile which made him look very similar to Arjun - the unfortunate Arjun who'd lost a son that day.
**************************************************************************
PS : In the Mahabharata , Srutakeerti was the son of Arjun , borne to him by Draupadi. While there are numerous descriptions of Abhimanyu and Iravaan , the other sons of Arjun - very little information is available on Srutakeerti - which made me think if this prince was an ignored child - a second child who was not his father's favorite like the eldest and his mother's pet like his youngest.
It also made me think that He'd have had an affinity to Bhima - Bhima who was a middle child like him - Bhima who was underrated despite his many redeeming qualities. These were the thoughts that resulted in this story being written :-)
No comments:
Post a Comment