The Mahabharata of Palmira

5 Narada comes to town

5 Narada comes to town

The first thing they did when they got home was try to find a woman who would suckle the little baby, for the boy was now crying constantly.

While Radha went out to try to find a wet-nurse, Adhi stayed with the little boy. Every few minutes he would offer his little finger for the baby to suckle on, just to silence him for a few seconds. Adhi examined the golden mail. He noticed that each link was cut very precisely. And he was able to separate the linked rings without any great difficulty.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said to Radha when she returned, accompanied by a neighbour who had plenty of milk to spare. ‘As the baby grows we will have to disconnect a row and add another one, or he won’t be able to breathe. Or do you think we should take the vest off altogether?’

‘No,’ said Radha, ‘we mustn’t do that. He must have been wearing that armour for a reason. Just like the ear-rings. No, we will have to do as you suggest. Of course,’ she added after a moment’s thought, ‘I’ll have to keep adding an extra row to the bottom of the vest as well!’

And that is what they did. Rather frequently at first, because of course the little boy was growing fast. And though they were poor sutas it never once occurred to them to sell the armour, whose weight of gold they knew would have exchanged for more property than they had ever dreamt of.

They made a note of the day on which they had found the boy, and that became his birthday. Adhi called his son Vasu-shena, which means ‘born with wealth’. And word got round about this little suta baby with the huge golden ear-rings. It was not unusual for older boys and girls to wear ear-rings; but not at quite so young an age, or quite so large.

Soon neighbours and friends started referring to the child as Karna-veshtakika, which means ‘adorned with ear-rings’; and the name stuck. By the time he was a few months old the baby was just plain Karna.

Radha and Adhi often puzzled over the meaning of Karna’s golden ornaments. It occurred to them that he might be the son, not of a mere mortal, but of a god. There were certainly legends of babies being found under similar circumstances, who had turned out to be children of gods. But they did not know whom to ask. None of the brahmanas in the region was able to help them, though they all marvelled at the boy.

Then, when Karna was just over six months old, and had added several rows of links to his armour, a very celebrated rishi passed through Nagakaksha. He was called Narada.

•

‘Palmira,’ interrupted the first Henry.

‘I expect you want to know what is a rishi?’

Palmira poured a little water into her cup, took a sip, and offered it to the boys.

‘A rishi is usually a brahmana, but no ordinary one. Rishis are supposed to have special powers, or to be particularly holy. Some rishis are supposed to be able to see into the future. Some, like Narada, travel around living from the gifts and charity of the people they visit. But others live in seclusion far away from villages and towns, hardly ever talking to a living soul. These are usually called munis. They are supposed to have conquered all — almost all — their earthly desires. Some munis are so strict they do not even look for food and drink, but die unless people place food beside them. But pilgrims will often make the journey to see them and leave food for them. Others are a little less strict, and are prepared to eat grains and nuts and fruit which they find loose on the ground. Nevertheless, they will not take the fruit actually off a tree, for example; or an ear of corn while it is still attached to the living plant; but will only gather food that is already scattered, and that no one else will want or take. And yet... Well, some rishis are very different... They may be very eccentric, and at times live in great luxury. Narada wasn’t like this, but he was certainly very worldly, and as accustomed to the lavish company of kings as he was to the humble gifts of the poor. Now boys, try not to interrupt again until the end of the day. As I said before, if your problem doesn’t keep, then it probably won’t matter.’

Palmira continued her story.

•

‘We must take little Karna to see Narada,’ suggested Radha. ‘He may be able to solve the mystery.’

‘What if he takes the child away from us?’ asked Adhi.

‘I will not let him,’ said Radha defiantly.

‘What, even Narada?’

‘Karna will leave us when he is ready to, and not before. The gods have made me a mother, and a mother I will be.’

So they took little Karna to see Narada. They carried with them the rest of the mail in the red sack; and also the other contents of the basket in which Karna had been found. They had also put in the sack some gifts for the rishi: some puffed rice, some flour, and some clarified butter.

The rishi had chosen to receive the townspeople in the hall of an old temple near the main square. Adhi and Radha had to wait a long time before they were even let inside the building, and by then the sun was low and reddish in the sky.

Narada’s white robes made it easy to pick him out from the others in the gloom of the hall. He was standing at the far end. With Karna in her arm, Radha nervously approached the rishi. Adhi walked beside her carrying the red sack.

Without saying a word she presented the baby to the rishi, who stretched out his arms to receive him. Narada smiled, and was about to ask Radha a question when he noticed the baby’s ear-rings. With his free hand he felt the rings.

‘These are unusual... And certainly large enough for you to grow into,’ he added with a smile, looking into the huge black eyes which stared back at him. ‘So...’ Narada looked at Radha. ‘Why have you brought him to me? It is a boy, is it not?’

Radha nodded, but remained silent, expecting her husband to speak.

Narada tickled Karna’s cheeks to make him smile.

‘He very rarely smiles,’ said Adhi.

Narada raised his eyebrows without looking up. ‘Is that the problem?’ He tried to tickle Karna’s little chest.

The rishi’s face stiffened all of a sudden. He looked up at Adhi and Radha. Adhi was about to say something but Radha put her hand on her husband’s arm.

Narada slowly unwrapped the clothes that were swaddling the baby, and saw the golden armour. He felt it gently, passing his hand carefully over it. He allowed the swaddling clothes to fall clear as he held Karna up, naked but for his little golden vest, turning him around to examine his back.

While he was doing this Radha began to tell him how they had found the baby. When she had finished, Narada, still holding Karna, leant back against the edge of a long table nearby which was laden with gifts. He held the boy for a few moments, deep in thought. Then he put him down on the table beside the gifts, as though Karna were another one of these, picked up the swaddlings and covered him up.

There were still a few other people standing by at the fringes of the hall. With a gesture Narada ushered them out. He turned to Karna’s parents.

‘You say there was more of this armour. Have you got it with you?’

‘Yes, sire.’ Adhi reached into the red sack. First he took out the offerings for Narada, then he passed the sack to the rishi. Adhi placed the gifts on the table as Narada inspected the sack.

After examining the material of the sack itself, Narada felt inside. First he brought out the tiny pillow; then the red silk square. He looked closely at these and then passed them to Radha to hold. Finally he pulled out the chain mail. He spread it beside the baby on the table, moving aside some pots and jars to make more room. He raised a corner of the mail to his mouth and bit it. He peered at it in the gloom trying to find a bite mark.

He started to pace slowly along the length of the table and back, several times, deep in thought. Once or twice he glanced back at the armour. Karna meanwhile was gurgling peacefully on the table. His parents waited in silence, holding on to each other, not wishing to disturb the rishi’s concentration.

Suddenly Narada walked quickly out of the hall. Adhi and Radha could hear him shouting for something outside. He returned wielding an unsheathed sword in his hand.

Radha screamed, dropping the pillow and square onto the floor.

Flustered by this reminder of their presence, Narada apologised to them, and reassured Radha. He put down the sword and gently held her hands.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t touch your baby, let alone harm him. Pick him up for a moment.’

Radha did as she was told.

Narada approached the table, raised the sword high above his head, and brought it crashing down onto the spreadeagled armour. Radha, Adhi, and the table all jumped with the shock, and several pots of clarified butter rolled off and smashed onto the floor. Narada put down the sword and picked up the armour.

‘I need to look at this under better light,’ he said, and left the hall, taking the sword with him as well as the armour.

Adhi and Radha waited several minutes. They heard three or four more grunts and crashes from outside. Radha, without really realising what she was doing, put Karna down again on the table and began to pick up some of the larger pieces of earthenware from the floor.

Narada returned, a little breathless, and much distracted. He placed the mail in a heap by the baby and leant against the table, deep in thought.

There was just enough light creeping in for Adhi to catch the reflections from the armour. He stared at it, hardly able to contain his curiosity. Radha continued to salvage the pots.

Adhi walked nearer to the armour. The rishi ignored him. A look of distress appeared on Adhi’s face.

‘Radha!’ he cried, holding the armour up. ‘This... is not gold, Radha. It is not soft enough for gold.’

His wife got up from her pots and examined the mail with her husband. They could see that there was hardly a mark to show where the sword had smitten the metal.

‘Worthless!’ cried Adhi.

‘What does it matter?’ consoled his wife. ‘We were not going to sell it, anyway.’

‘But for Karna...’ began Adhi.

‘For Karna,’ interrupted Narada, as though starting up from a dream, ‘it is much more valuable than gold. Look at it. The sword has not deformed a single link by even a hair’s breadth! And yet the metal is flexible enough to allow the links to be unfastened. And to allow the child to breathe as deeply as he needs.’ Narada paused. ‘I must think,’ Narada added. ‘Will you wait?’

They nodded.

Narada picked Karna up and handed him back to his mother. Again the rishi sat against the table. After a while Karna started to cry softly, and Radha rocked him gently; she let him suck at her breast to comfort him, though she had hardly any milk. Adhi picked up the pillow and the square from the floor where they still lay and put them by the armour on the table.

After a while Narada slowly raised himself and walked towards them.

‘West of here, in Varanasi, lives a rishi called Charvaka. When Karna reaches the age of nine or ten, take him to see Charvaka. He is a rather strange man, but very... knowledgeable. He will advise you and your son. But take care not to let your son talk too much alone with him... Charvaka is not... not entirely good.’

Narada started to walk slowly out of the room, as though in a dream.

‘Sire!’ cried Radha, ‘What will happen to Karna? Is he...’ Her voice fell now almost to a whisper. ‘Is he the son of a god?’

Narada stopped. He turned and walked back to Radha. He took Karna from her and passed the baby to her husband. The rishi grasped her firmly by the wrists.

‘In the course of time, if all goes well, your son will become a great warrior. A great ratha.’

‘A warrior?’

‘If he chooses to become one. If he does not, he may live here in safety with you, as a suta. But if he chooses to become a ratha, let him. He will face danger. Indeed, he will face death. But if all goes well, while he has his ear-rings and his armour, no one will be able to defeat him in combat.’

‘But how... What should we do?’

Narada let go Radha’s hands. ‘As I say, take him to see Charvaka when you think he is ready. But he must keep his armour always with him; as I see you have been doing. And most important of all, he must always wear his ear-rings. Have you ever taken them off him?’

‘No, sire,’ replied Radha. ‘They’ve been on him since the day he came to us.’

‘Good. He must not remove them. They carry his destiny. They are his life... or his death.’

‘But is he...’ Radha’s voice fell again. ‘Is he the son of a god?’

‘Sire, what is the meaning of the sun on the cloth?’ Adhi turned his body to indicate the silk square. ‘Could it be Surya?’

Narada looked at the cloth. His eyes lit up. ‘Yes... That is the face of Surya... Yes... And Surya is also golden, like the mail, yet is not gold... But you must keep quiet about this... You are, after all, sutas. People will laugh at you if you tell them that your son is the child of Surya. You must tell no one.’

Narada looked again at the silk square.

‘In fact... May I take this?’

Adhi looked at Radha.

‘Yes, sire,’ she said.

‘Good...’ He went to the table, picked up the cloth, folded it neatly and put it in one of the ample pockets of his cloak. Then he started to walk towards the entrance of the hall.

Adhi handed Karna back to Radha and began to collect up Karna’s things into the red sack.

‘By the way...’ Narada called back to them. ‘When is your son going to have a little brother or sister?’

Radha looked at the ground in proud embarrassment. ‘In four months’ time, sire.’ She turned to hide her face from her husband.

Adhi was speechless.

‘Are you blind?’ Narada said to him, smiling. ‘Don’t you know your wife is expecting?’

Adhi was still a little confused as he picked up the sack to follow his wife and son out of the temple.