The Mahabharata of Palmira

7 Charvaka’s advice-2

‘Karna, sire.’

‘Karna? That is indeed a strange description. What did I tell you? Regrettable or absurd? Ear!’

‘Sire, it’s short for Karna-veshtakika, sire.’

‘Karna-veshta... Oh! Of course! Your ear-rings. Yes... I beg your pardon, my boy, I hadn’t really noticed them. How unobservant of me. And they are rather on the large side, for a young boy, I would say. I expect that is why you are known by them.’ Charvaka sat down again. ‘Come here, my boy, let me have a look at you...’

Charvaka examined Karna’s ears, apparently more interested in these than in the rings.

‘Strange — do your earlobes often inflame like this? Are they hurting?’

‘A bit, sire. It does happen sometimes. But I’m used to it.’

‘You must have very sensitive skin. Gold shouldn’t do this...’

The rishi drifted into silence as he examined Karna’s ear-rings more carefully. Suddenly Charvaka straightened his back.

‘Where did you get these from?’ The playfulness with which he had been addressing the child now gave way to a note of urgency.

‘I don’t know, sire.’

‘Does your father know?’

‘I don’t know, sire... but my real name is Vasu-shena ―’

‘Born with wealth? Because of these? You’ve always had them?’

‘Yes, sire. And I was born with more of that gold, sire.’

‘More?’ Charvaka got up. ‘This is not gold. What sort of more?’

‘I think my father has it in the sack we brought.’ Karna looked round for it, then realised his father must have taken it with him. ‘But I’ve got some on me, sire?’

‘On you?’

‘Yes, sire.’

Normally Karna would never allow anyone outside his immediate family to see his armour, not if he could help it. But he felt at ease with the rishi.

He undid his brown sash and took off the little silk jerkin which covered his top.

When Charvaka saw the golden mail his jaw dropped and his eyes stared. He knelt down in front of Karna and felt the armour carefully with both hands. With great dexterity he undid some of the links, then fastened them up again. He looked carefully into Karna’s eyes.

‘This is not gold, either. And it is quite different metal from the ear-rings. You say there is more?’

‘Yes, sire, in the red sack my father’s carrying.’

‘Red?’ Charvaka closed his eyes for a moment.

‘It was always in that sack, sire, the armour.’

‘It’s silk! Is the sack made of silk, like this?’ Charvaka pointed to Karna’s jerkin.

‘Yes, sire, but red. And the armour is for a big man. My mother puts more on me as I grow.’

‘Your mother... Your parents... Tell me, are they your real parents?’

Karna thought for a few moments.

‘Yes, sire.’

‘You have no... no doubts about that?’

‘Sire, you saw my father! He’s as real as you are, sire!’

‘I mean... Karna, you have little brothers, have you not? Did you come out of your mother’s belly as they did?’

‘I don’t think so, sire. She didn’t have me at home like my brothers. She found me in the river in a basket. And I was already wearing my ear-rings and my armour, only the armour was very tiny then. When I grow I may be able to wear all of it one day.’

‘So your mother found you in a basket!’ Charvaka got up off his knees. He turned away from Karna for a moment and pulled his hand through his hair. He turned to face the boy again, looking at him carefully, as though seeing him for the first time.

‘And have your parents never wondered where you came from?’

‘Sire, when I was a little baby, before I could talk, they said they took me to see a rishi, another rishi, like you, sire, called Narada.’

‘Narada!... I don’t think the dove would like to hear you say he was like the mouse... And what did he have to say?’

‘He said I probably came from Surya.’

‘You mean... that Surya is your father?’

‘I’m not sure, sire. I don’t really know what Surya is. Is he the sun? How could I come from the sun?’

Charvaka smiled. ‘Surya is the god of the sun. He must have meant that Surya was your father... I wonder why Surya...’

‘But I’ve already got a father, sire.’

‘Of course, yes... Karna... Perhaps there was something else found with you in the basket... Was there?’

‘There was a pillow, sire. And I think there was something else with a picture of the sun on it.’

‘Ah, yes... So... So if Surya is your father... did Narada venture any maternal connection?’

‘Sire?’

‘Did he say who your mother was?’

‘I don’t know. But I think he met my mother with my father. She said she went to see him as well.’

‘What is your mother’s name?’

‘Radha, sire.’

‘This is the mother of your little brothers, the one that found you in the basket?’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘Good...’ Charvaka looked at Karna’s face carefully again. He smiled at the boy.

‘Well, well... And you are seven years old? Did you say seven?’

‘Seven and a quarter, sire.’

‘Well, my boy...’ The rishi paused again, grasping his beard at the roots. ‘Well, my boy, I think there is a chance that your dream may come true. There! You see how unfair life is? Shall we call your father in? You can put your things back on now.’

Adhi was conducted in, and stood looking ill at ease beside his son, while the rishi, grunting and snorting under his breath, examined the contents of the red sack.

‘Yes... Oh yes... Now, Karna, my boy...’ Charvaka put the armour back in the sack. ‘Karna, why don’t you go and choose yourself a bow — see, in there. You go and choose one, eh?’

Karna disappeared into the adjoining room.

‘Tell me, Adhi-ratha,’ began the rishi, ‘was there anything else with Karna, with the baby, when you found him on the river? I presume it was the great Ganges?’

‘Yes, sire, it was. Did my boy tell you all about that? Yes, there was... there was a ―’

‘A red square with a picture of Surya?’

‘Yes, sire! How did you know that? Did Karna tell you?’

‘What happened to it?’

‘Narada took it. You know that we...’

‘Yes, yes, he told me. I see... And I gather Narada said that Karna’s father is Surya?’

‘Yes... Did Karna tell you that? I didn’t know the boy knew...’

‘He doesn’t know exactly, shall we say... But am I right in thinking that Narada mentioned nothing about a possible mother?’

‘No, no. He didn’t mention anything about a mother.’

‘Good... Well, my friend, as I presume you know, your son wants to be a chariot fighter. I will arrange for someone near you in Anga to give him some lessons with the bow. But every year he must come and stay with me for two or three months, perhaps more, depending on his aptitudes, until he is ready to go... So that I can teach him the rudiments from which he will benefit in later life. Also, there is here in Varanasi a ratha who was taught by Kripa-charya. This man has a good action, though he has a rather indifferent accuracy of aim. Still, he will be able to correct any errors Karna acquires in Anga.’

‘But sire... Ready to go... Where?’

‘Not yet, my friend. No, perhaps when Karna is... thirteen. By that age, let me see, Yudhi is a little younger, he will be about eleven, Bhima will be ten, Arjuna will be nine, the twins a little younger than that, I don’t recall exactly whether they were born last year or the previous... And Dur is roughly the same age as Karna. Duh a little younger. Yes, so when Karna is thirteen he will go to Hastinapura to learn with the princes under Kripa. You have heard of Kripa-charya?’

‘Sire... How? I don’t understand. How can little Karna learn with the princes?’

‘Adhi-ratha, is not their company good enough for the son of Surya? Of course, I would like to send him to Parashu-rama, but he is very far away, and besides, I believe he is only taking brahmana pupils now. One day Karna will have to go to him. But first he will have to study the bow... It is a pity that Bhishma himself doesn’t teach, but Kripa is very good. There is Drona, of course. Drona is nearly as good as Parashu, but I’m not sure where he is at the moment. I wish I did — he has some weapons of mine... So, is that agreed?’

‘But... But I am a suta, sire. They will not accept him. And I have no money...’

‘My friend, what is the point of naming your child Vasu-shena if you don’t believe it? Don’t you worry about that. I know Kripa. Leave it to me. So... I will want your son back in a few months’ time. By then he should be able to string a small bow in a few seconds, let us hope.’

‘Sire...’ Adhi remembered Narada’s mention of danger, and knew that Radha would scold him if he did not raise it with this rishi. ‘Narada warned that Karna may face danger if he chooses to become a ratha.’

‘That is true, my friend. There will be danger. But I will try to prepare him so that when the time comes, no one will force Karna to face it against his will. I will do my best to do my best, that I promise. Ah! Here he is, our little warrior!’

Karna appeared holding a bow which was just a little taller than him. It had beautifully carved horn tips, and was clearly not too heavy for him.

‘There! You see, Adhi-ratha, your son is wise beyond his years to choose within his grasp. An excellent decision, Karna. Start with wood, later, my boy, you can go on to metal, if you take to it. You will also need a glove for your left hand. You are right-handed, eh? Naturally I don’t have one in your size, but if I give you some lizard skin, perhaps you can get one made up in Anga, eh?’

‘What’s the glove for, sire?’ asked Karna. ‘I’ve seen them wearing them...’

‘Ah! That’s the difference between watching and being. You would soon understand if you were in their place. Without a guard for your bow hand, why, the skin would be quite taken off by the flapping of the bowstring — and of course by the arrow itself as it flies off. Pity, if I were still in my workshop in Hastinapura I could have made a glove for you straight off. But here, in this mess...’ Charvaka waved his arms in frustration. ‘So, my boy,’ he continued, ‘what are you going to call your first bow?’

‘This isn’t quite my first, sire. I made one out of a branch at home.’

‘It can’t have been much of a bow if you still have the skin on your hand! Well?... What are you going to call your first real bow?’

‘But sire, why should bows have names?’

‘My boy, it’s an all too common human weakness these days to endow such valued objects as bows with a certain unwillingness to share. Modelled no doubt on the example of their owners. Apparently this first real bow of yours is not content merely to share that description, which could equally well have fallen on any other of the bows you might have chosen in its stead. No, apparently objects don’t properly signify in the scheme of things unless they are dignified with their very own proper name. Even worse, people seem to think that names don’t properly signify unless they have their very own object to designate. So, why not join your fellows and partake in these follies. Eh?’

‘No, sire, I won’t give it a name.’

‘Are you sure, my boy? It’s often wiser to share in the foolishness around you than to work up your own.’

Karna thought for a moment before replying.

‘I think I’d rather do my own foolishness, sire.’

‘Excellent!’ Charvaka beamed at Adhi-ratha. ‘You have here a boy after my own heart. Well, I look forward to working with you again, Karna, eh? In a few months’ time... Let’s say six months, then I can get ready and tidy my bench. Be sure to bring him back, Adhi-ratha... Before you go, my friend, let me give you some lizard skin. And a pair of rather superior bows to take to a kshatriya I know in Anga. It will give you an introduction. I think he will be more than willing to teach your boy in exchange for them, eh?’

◊

On the ride back Karna was not so keen on driving the horses. He would not let go of his new bow. But though his son was happy, Adhi was concerned about what Narada had hinted regarding Charvaka.

‘Karna, listen carefully. Narada warned me that Charvaka, although he was very knowledgeable... was not entirely good.’

‘Not good? I like him, father?’

‘But... Narada did say to be careful. I’m not sure if we can trust this man...’

‘I trust him, father.’

Adhi was much relieved. He had great confidence in his son’s judgement, in spite of Karna’s lack of years.

‘But you will tell me if he is in any way... bad. Won’t you, Karna?’

‘Yes, father. I like him. He’s not like other people. And he likes me, father. He would not try to harm me.’ After a pause he asked, ‘Father, why do you trust Narada and not Charvaka?’

Adhi did not reply.

‘Next time, father, he doesn’t want more clarified butter. He wants something he can eat straight away.’