5 PREPARACIÓN DE RECUBRIMIENTOS REFLECTANTES BASADOS EN PELICULAS CON GRADIENTE DE DICE DE REFRACCIÓN

The Pandavas left for the forest the next morning, leaving behind their mother, Kunti, who did not accompany them for the exile this time. She had decided to stay back at the palace of Vidura and his wife, Parshavya.

Other unexpected news was the arrival of Sage Narada at Hastinapur. ‘Thirteen years from today, the Kauravas will be annihilated because of the crimes committed by Duryodhana,’ he declared to the stricken old king and Vidura and vanished from sight, leaving behind a pall of gloom in the palace and the city where the magnificent Rajasuya celebrations had been held just a few months ago. Uruvi felt crushed under the dread; the bleakness of the future seemed to stifle her.

She was determined to follow her plan. However much it broke her heart, she had to leave Karna. Distance would probably make her stronger and for that, she would have to leave for Pukeya.

The thought of parting from Karna was unbearable, but then she remembered, the outrage at the Kuru hall and shuddered with renewed shame and horror, reminded that she could not respect the man she loved any more. Perhaps she was being heartless, cruel and unreasonable, and after hearing what Draupadi had to say to her, a new bewilderment troubled her. She was torn between her moral indignation and being loving and forgiving. She wanted to turn back and flee into the world she had once belonged to, hungry to catch a glimpse of Karna again. She wanted desperately to say one last word of comfort and tenderness, once more to ask for his understanding, strength, love and kindness.

She was struck numb with pain, her hands stretched as if to bring him back. She wanted to rush into his arms, forget the growing nightmare and to continue to live as contentedly as she once had.

Dawn was creeping along the river mistily but grey clouds still hovered above the dark trees along the way. Restless and in a state of distress, Uruvi reached the beautiful palace that was her childhood home. It was as imposing as ever, the garden sprawling in front, welcoming in its lush greenery. She stepped down from the chariot and slowly walked inside. Everything seemed the same

—her mother’s surprised smile, her father’s warm eyes, her excited handmaid, the carved armchair in the wide verandah, the ancient banyan tree in the garden. But she had changed.

When Uruvi entered the house, pale and troubled, King Vahusha saw at once that something dreadful had happened. He knew what she was going to say before she spoke.

‘Father, I have left Karna.’

He took her hand gently and embraced her. She broke down and wept unrestrainedly. Hot tears coursed down her face, unchecked and uncontrolled. ‘I am tired,’ she murmured brokenly.

Queen Shubra, dismayed, opened her mouth to speak, but her husband motioned her to be silent.

Uruvi did not utter a word of explanation and her father knew that she needed to be left alone.

She went to her chamber upstairs and watched the day advance slowly from her balcony as the sorrow—undeserved, bitter and overwhelming—seeped in. Her head pounded and in her disturbed state, she could not read, converse or eat. She walked in the grounds to tire herself out. At sunset, she returned to her room, spent and listless. The night was silent; her room was still. She could not think any more and her turbulent mind had gone strangely vacant. Soon, she heard a discreet cough.

‘Who’s there?’ she cried, startled and annoyed.

There was a pause. She turned to the threshold and saw her father come into the room. He quietly said, ‘I know something is very wrong. Do you want to talk about what happened?’

‘I came home because I knew I could count on you. And your sympathy,’ she answered, looking a little sheepish.

‘It was bound to happen…’

‘Was it, Father? Were you expecting this?’ she cried.

‘I suppose so. You couldn’t hope to keep him always for yourself, dear,’ he reminded her gently.

‘He is destined for other things…’

She could not have agreed more. In bits and pieces, in fits and starts, in between sobs and gasps, she recounted what had happened, most of which he already knew through hearsay and the rumours flying thick and fast in his kingdom.

‘Are you sure you want to leave him?’ he asked finally. ‘You couldn’t live without him before—

will you be able to now?’

‘I have to,’ she murmured.

‘Why do you have to? Is this some sort of a punishment you are imposing on yourself or is it a way of punishing Karna?’ he asked sharply. Then, in a more kindly manner, he continued, ‘Listen, child, do what your heart tells you, not your pride. You are too proud to accept that the person you so wholly loved could go wrong. Your judgement has taken a knock and you cannot bear the fall of your idol. But that was your mistake, not his. Karna didn’t ask to be your god.’

She raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘Father, are you defending him or are you justifying what he did? You sound like a saint, not a king.’

‘Evil is everywhere. But so is good—and you need to recognize it when you see it,’ her father gently reminded her. ‘It is easy to single out the faults of others, chastise the wicked, but how many realize their own flaws and knowing them, are repentant? How many make amends? At least, Karna has that integrity in him.’

She kept silent, confused, clenching her hands agitatedly. ‘I want to go back to him—but not now!

I need to think! And I am not sure if I am right or he is wrong, or whether he is right and I am wrong.

What makes me so terribly sad is to think of his unspeakable degradation! I thought there was no one like him. I admired him so much! He was the world to me. Was he a sham or was he my illusion?’

‘Do you think all of us are perfect, dear? For you, it’s agony that the person you believed in so totally, you considered so angelic, should be so flawed and hollow. What is hurting you is that the person you thought to be the epitome of goodness should fall so suddenly.’

Uruvi shrugged her shoulders. ‘After this, I thought my love for him was killed in a flash. But that is not so. I love him in spite of everything,’ she admitted, grudgingly.

‘It is your sense of honour which defines what is right or wrong and it need not be correct always. What Karna did was deplorable, but what made it highly offensive for you was that your hero had feet of clay. It is your personal disappointment in him that you find a betrayal. But he has not betrayed you. He was a man scorned and sneered at and he hit back in anger when he got a chance to hurt the woman who did it. Whether it’s a man or a woman is immaterial. Dishonour can kill decency in anybody. You have never experienced it, dear, so you wouldn’t know how one reacts to it.’

‘Have you ever been humiliated?’ she asked curiously, surprised to see this side of her father.

‘Oh, yes, several times!’ he laughed lightly. ‘That’s why most wars are fought! Wars are often a personal vendetta, not impelled by noble reasons. It is easy for the ego to get dented any time, by anyone. Another mistake you are committing is clubbing Karna with Duryodhana and Dushasana.

Karna retaliated out of vengeance; they behaved as they did in sheer spite and lust.’

‘But that doesn’t condone what he did,’ she countered swiftly. ‘It was wrong, simple!’

‘And what gives you the right to be so judgemental?’ her father looked annoyed. ‘Morality be

damned! A scruple which causes so much grief and turmoil is not worth it. Morality is not a rigid formula of mathematics. No standard of it can be laid down for all times, and for all situations. Even legal experts like Bhishma could not find a solution for the quandary posed by Draupadi. You are not being righteous; you are running away from the problem. Face it. And tackle it in a less extreme manner!’

‘There is something called conscience!’ she cried vehemently.

‘Are you his conscience-keeper? If so, show him the way. Don’t condemn him and flee in righteous horror. Don’t close your eyes to the flaws and reality—or it will be you who will stumble and fall in a deep void. Condemning and condoning are two faces in the mirror; but it takes more courage to forgive than to criticize someone. Are you brave enough to pardon Karna?’

Would she be as magnanimous as Draupadi? Uruvi asked herself this question remorsefully, knowing that Karna’s prey, though broken and bruised, had enough strength in her and love in her heart to absolve him. Her father looked at her meaningfully. ‘You need to be brave to forgive,’ he repeated. ‘Are you strong enough to accept his imperfections? You are disillusioned because your hero fell from your eyes—but he will only soar higher after his nadir. A weak man goes downhill, but Karna is a strong person. His stumble will never be his fall. He will heave himself up and go higher.

And you need to be there with him then.’

Uruvi gave him a helpless look, and with an abrupt movement, sprang to her feet. ‘The problem is that I am just as much in love with him now as I was then,’ she said and paused. ‘Does love make you so vulnerable and powerless, Father?’

‘No. It makes one strong. It has given you forbearance and courage. It is not what has happened or what will happen that is relevant; what you do in the now is significant. That defines your karma.’

Surprisingly, her mother backed her father’s advice. Uruvi remembered, with a twisted smile, when her mother had come face to face with her son-in-law at the swayamwara hall. Uruvi had expected her to give him a frosty greeting but her mother’s face had shown a gamut of fleeting emotions. Royal breeding clashed with her animosity, her social grace battled bravely with the contempt she had for the young man, but then an expression of affable welcome veiled her dismay and dislike admirably. Uruvi had wondered if Karna had been able to catch how unforgiving her mother’s expression was, concealed by the facade of politeness. She was assessing him. Her mother wore the same look now. She was trying to assess her.

‘So you have decided to leave and not face the consequences, have you?’ She was passing the verdict already. She paused and added gently, ‘But Uruvi, you couldn’t be happy without him, you can’t exist without him! You said that no woman could want a better husband—and you went ahead to prove to us and the world that’s how it was. And this I have to admit, Karna has always been kindness itself to you. He is a decent man. And you loved him madly once.’

Uruvi looked at her mother squarely. ‘I still love him, Mother. It’s not that I have left him forever

—our society wouldn’t permit me, would all of you? I only came here to rethink,’ she stopped abruptly, suddenly weary of explaining her actions and confusion. ‘I just need some time, some space…Mother, please, I don’t have the will to argue with you. You were right; I was wrong,’ she sighed deeply. She passed her hand over her eyes.

‘No, I think you were correct and I was wrong all along,’ her mother refuted quietly. ‘Neither Arjuna nor any of the Pandavas would have been right for you or for any woman for that matter!’

Uruvi was startled; her mother was in the throes of intense anger, her cheeks glowing an angry red. ‘Mother, what do you mean?’

‘I am thankful now that you refused to marry Arjuna…or it could have been you, instead of

Draupadi who would have been disrobed at the Hastinapur royal hall!’

‘Mother!’

‘I keep thinking that had you been Arjuna’s wife, what could he have given you? Disgrace?

Humiliation?’ Queen Shubra asked heatedly. ‘The five Pandavas put together could not protect Draupadi in her hour of distress. The cowards kept quiet and watched the outrage!’ her mother said with disdain. ‘I am grateful that I did not give my daughter to a man who cannot defend his wife, and I am sorry to say that I did not realize this earlier. You were smarter than I thought, Uruvi.’

Uruvi was completely taken aback; her mother’s tirade left her speechless. She was surprised that her mother was now endorsing her decision to marry Karna.

‘Was I, Mother?’ Uruvi looked disconsolate. Slowly, she glanced back at her mother, and in her eyes, unmistakably, gleamed a look of irony. Her mother was vexed and disturbed. Uruvi thoughtfully touched the bangles on her wrist. Her coolness troubled her mother, so she stopped in front of Uruvi and faced her, taking her hands in hers.

‘You condemn Karna for what he did, but Uruvi, can’t you see what the Pandavas so shamefully allowed to happen at the Kuru hall? People insist that it was devious of Duryodhana and Shakuni to swindle poor Yudhishthira in the dice game. But how morally correct was Yudhishthira when, as a king, he pawned his kingdom away? What right did he have to play with his kingdom and his subjects? Worse than that, as a husband, he staked his wife for a game. And when she was being stripped, he kept shockingly silent just as her other husbands did. Spineless wretches, how could they allow it? That is shameful! And as a mother, I am happy that I was wrong about those Pandavas! On that day, I thanked God that you were Karna’s wife and not Arjuna’s!’

Uruvi’s impassive face twisted into a sardonic smile. ‘It was a hall of shame, Mother,’ she murmured desolately. ‘Each one of them was morally wrong—Bhishma Pitamaha, Guru Dronacharya, Kripacharya, King Dhritrashtra, Vidura, the Pandavas—and yes, my husband—every one of them!

They were guilty of participating in a heinous offence. They watched and preferred to do nothing, neither protesting nor protecting Draupadi. The only one who did not transgress is possibly Vikarna, who was sensitive and brave enough to warn the others that what was happening was so awfully wrong. The others silently watched a crime happen in front of their eyes and did nothing. They simply turned their heads away. All of them behaved shamefully, Mother.’

‘Yes, all the more reason for the Pandavas to have stood up for Draupadi. Why didn’t they? What could have happened? Not anything worse than what actually did take place! I would have respected the Pandavas more had they picked up their weapons and challenged the abettors of the crime. In the cloak of nobleness and virtuosity, they favoured silence and servility instead. Cowards!’ she said fiercely. ‘I admit Karna was not the husband I would have wished for you, but over the months, I accepted him, the sole reason being you were so happy with him. And that’s what matters. He loves you in his own odd way, and more importantly, he keeps you happy. After hearing about what happened at the Kuru Raj Sabha, I don’t think Arjuna or any of the Pandavas could have made you happy. The important factor for any parent is that her child is contented with whomsoever she marries and I confess Karna has emerged more suitable than I could have ever imagined! That’s why I shan’t allow you to wallow in needless condemnation. As a wife, would you have pardoned your husband who doesn’t have the guts to defend you or would you excuse a man who dishonours a woman in a vindictive payback? I think you are being foolishly upright. Don’t be so heartless and don’t be so hard on yourself. And think of the baby.’

Uruvi winced—she couldn’t let herself forget this reality. ‘What kind of world am I going to bring my child into, Mother?’ she asked despairingly. ‘The future seems so bleak!’

‘The future is never ours to see,’ Queen Shubra placed a placating hand on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘You can never know what is going to happen. But you can steer the present forward in such a way that it gives you enough dignity and courage to face your future, however unpleasant it may be.

Make your present a better way of living. That makes the world easier to live in too,’ she added in a soothing tone.

After her mother gave her this sensible advice, Uruvi decided to give herself some time. She tried to push Karna from her thoughts but he kept haunting her. She missed him but she concentrated on her unborn child instead. Her days spent at Pukeya waiting for the baby to arrive were probably more restful than the emotional turmoil of the last few days. She was considerably at peace now; she knew what she needed to do. She gossiped with her mother and laughed with her father. She gathered enough cheerfulness within her to giggle with her friends about becoming a mother soon.

But the rawness in her heart was intolerable. She couldn’t help thinking about Karna and the turbulent days, weeks and months that had separated them. She wondered how he had reacted to her sudden flight to Pukeya. A wisp of unease troubled her. Would he be on the lookout for her? Would he come to Pukeya? Had he given up on her or did he think she would return soon? She looked out of the window almost every hour of the day.

Then one early morning, she saw his chariot racing down the dusty path. Her heart leapt with unbridled joy and she realized with a start how much she had longed to see him. She saw him leap down from the chariot and stride purposefully inside. She scanned the corridor anxiously. He was taking ages to come up the stairs. What was he doing? Was he talking with her father? Was he being castigated by her mother? Uruvi could feel herself getting increasingly agitated and she wanted to race down the stairwell to meet him. But pride and prudence stopped her and she decided to wait for him instead. She could not see him anywhere, so she paced restlessly in her room.

Then one early morning, she saw his chariot racing down the dusty path. Her heart leapt with unbridled joy and she realized with a start how much she had longed to see him. She saw him leap down from the chariot and stride purposefully inside. She scanned the corridor anxiously. He was taking ages to come up the stairs. What was he doing? Was he talking with her father? Was he being castigated by her mother? Uruvi could feel herself getting increasingly agitated and she wanted to race down the stairwell to meet him. But pride and prudence stopped her and she decided to wait for him instead. She could not see him anywhere, so she paced restlessly in her room.