The Flawed Good Man

PROLOGUE

The fragrance!

The first rain of the season brought about the sweet fragrance in the air. The sweet-smelling flowers diffused their smell in the surrounding. The soil was moist, and it felt soft. The sun had risen in the eastern horizon, long back but looked dull. The small drops of rainwater that rested upon the leaves sparkled a few moments ago in the blazing sun, but now were left limp and still. The sun was gone. The day looked grey, and the sun peeped from behind the clouds. The lustre and grandeur were all lost. The river flowed swiftly, making its way and breaking the silence of the quiet morning. It was melancholy that enveloped the bank of the flowing river. The breeze cool and soft provided peace in the ever-growing heat of the surrounding.

A man at a distance struggled to stand straight with no support. He could barely walk. He dragged himself towards his chariot. With all the fragrance infused around him, he could get a pungent smell.

Blood!

It was an unmistakable smell as the blood was flowing from his torso; his chest ripped out of his skin, the layer beneath his skin was exposed and painfully numb. Blood dripping from his earlobes, his naked chest covered with blood, and a nerve wreaking pain left him shivering. The soft muslin, his white dhoti was slowly turning red soaking all the blood that slowly moved down his body. Tall and well built, a man with broad shoulders was right there in a state of immense pain.

Water, water, wat...

He could utter no more! His words sunk before it could escape his lips. He shivered because of the pain. This pain was ripping out all the energy that he could gather to move forward. He desperately needed water!

He kept walking back to his chariot. Slowly, trying to maintain his balance, he took the help of the Ashoka tree within reach.

It was becoming difficult now.

Fall!

He fell on his knees, trying to remain steady while resting his weight on his knees. His head burrowed down. Eyes full of water, he looked at the soil. With one finger, he digs out the ground, which quickly came out. He felt-light headed, unable to think of his next move. After staring at it for a long time, his vision was blurred, unable to see anything around him. He collapsed, falling on the ground, unconscious and murmuring the words Water... Darkness took over him.

Kunti calls Suryadev

The dawn broke several colours dripping from the movement of the rising sun in the sky. They changed slowly. Breaking the darkness and making it look red. As the sun moved up further up the horizon, the redness became prominent. The clouds that drifted in the sky even appeared red. Kunti stood on the bank of the river that flowed in the beautiful city of Kuntibhoj; her foster father. In her hand, she held a Kalash full of holy water.

Along with her surrounding, her skin glowed in the colour of the rising sun. Her hair looked various shades lighter, almost brown. She stepped in the moving water of the river; her steps disturbed the reflection of the sun, mountains, and trees that reflected the surface like a painting. The colour’s penetrated her soul. She began her puja.

Slowly holding the Kalash high to the level of her forehead and offering the water. Suddenly an idea triggered in her sixteen-year-old brain, still childlike and immature. It was some time back that rishi Durvasa had visited the palace of King Kuntibhoj, her father. The awe-inspiring Maharishi stayed for about a year. During this stay, Kunti attended to the sage’s requirements. Without thinking of her comfort, she served him each day. He would vanish suddenly and return to the palace at odd hours. The world knew well that the sage had a considerable entourage of disciples. They travelled along with him. The other issue was to take responsibility for initializing all the yajnas he conducted while he was in his sessions of worshipping his aradhya. Yajnas needed to undertake as per traditional methods, and he was obsessed with the customs revolving around the pujas. It was somewhat of a sensitive issue to tackle as Durvasa was not an easy man. They had to remember that one could not annoy the temperamental Durvasa. He was well known for how he cursed people who annoyed him. The slightest provocation he was known for giving pronouncing curses. The next problem was that he never gave notice of his movement in and out of Kuntibhoj’s palace. Much to his astonishment, he always found Kunti rising to these occasions and ready to serve him with a happy face. At all odd times, he found her happily serving him. He then slowly began testing Kunti to see if he could encounter even one flaw in her service. But all into vain. There was not one time that Kunti would give him a chance to complain about the arrangements of yajnas or any of his necessities; the quality of her service always left him in awe. Kunti’s selfless service and the Maharishi’s antics and tests continued, till he finally decided to go after a year’s stay at the palace.

Before his departure, Durvasa sent for Kuntibhoj and addressed him saying: Rajan I have been here for almost a year now and it is time for me to leave and move on, and thus I summoned you today. Hearing these words, the King turned pale. He feared that some lapse in hospitality had annoyed the finicky sage. Even the thought of any such breach in service made him tense. He walked to the sage, trembling in fear. The Rishi smiled and consoled him. He then sent for Kunti. He called the princess and asked her to sit before him. Kunti glanced towards her father, who stood nearby with a happy face. The Rishi spoke In these many years, I have never been so satisfied and happy with anyone’s service. You have served me with a lot of dedication. Today I grant you a boon, ask for anything you want.

I feel privileged that I could attain the chance to serve you. I do not need any boon Rishi Var, Kunti said to the sage.

The Rishi was stunned! He was impressed by her selflessness. Her patience, love, care, and thoughtful nature made him adamant about giving her the boon. Without asking her about her choice, which he was sure she would not choose, he granted her the boon of begetting a son from any God she wants.

Standing there, Kunti thought about the boon Durvasa Rishi had granted her. Every word was embedded in her mind. When you chant the mantra, whichever god you will call will give you a child. Really? Was it even real?

Kunti, being a curious person, kept questioning her father about the sage’s boon to which her father had simply replied Kunti! You must not question the great sage. He has performed Tapasya all his life and possesses great powers. They might sometimes be larger than life, but they are true. When the time comes, you will yourself realize how true his words are?

Kunti was then a child. She failed to understand what her curiosity would cause. She extracted out the doubts from her mind and kept aside the puja thali. She walked back to the riverbank. Standing there she began thinking of some God she could call. Which god would she call using the mantra? She looked around her. Her surrounding was full of greenery. The flowing water added up to the beauty of the forest: tall deodar trees, bare rocks, and a clear sky. By then the sun risen, eradicating other colours and filling it with its brightness.

The birds filled the river bank with its beautiful chirps, but even amidst all the noise that the animals and birds created in the region, there was an unusual silence that enveloped the forest. That silence made Kunti uneasy suddenly. Was this right? Was it wise to do so? Her beautiful face was laced with a fear that was unknown to her.

Kunti looked up! Sharp and intense rays of the sun glared towards her. Harsh rays that instantly made her close her eyes. She again got an idea.

Why not call Surya dev himself? Yes, I should call him. thought Kunti.

She again began with the small vandana that she would usually say before she began her prayer every morning. Her whisper was soft enough to blend with the soft chirping of the birds.

Om Suryay Namah! Om bhanve namah! Om Khagay Namah!

She went on speaking her mantra. She did, with all her dedication and sincerity. Soft, cool, and calm, she ended the mantra. Kunti’s hands were in a namaste in salutation, and eyes closed in prayer. Now her lips went still. She remained in that position for some time, and then slowly opened her eyes.

What she saw was a clear blue sky and the same green trees along with the scenery around. She had chanted the mantra, but there was no one to be seen in that part of the city, she stood alone. There was no one around! She giggled and spoke, I knew this could never happen. How could a mantra even attain a child to a person that too from a God? Why would God even come? I am no yogini.

She turned around to leave. Walked a few steps, picked up her aarti thal which she had kept there some time back. She was nearly on her way to leave her usual place for puja when someone called her name. She paused; eyes wide open in shock and dismay. She slowly gathered her courage and turned around to see who was there as she saw him there before her in his entire splendour. Broad shoulders, beautiful eyes, his crown complementing his position of the life-giver, his attire yellow, and the beautiful lotus flowers adorning his neck, Surya stood before her. She had no words to describe how beautiful the sight was.

Blunder! She thought. Guilt took over her; she had made a significant mistake by calling Surya. She looked towards him in despair. Surya glanced towards Kunti and began, You have called me with the help of the mantra that rishi Durvasa had granted you! Do you know what the sign significance of this mantra is? Do you know what have you done to yourself, Kunti? Kunti now made a feeble attempt to ward off this ill fate. She looked at Surya and spoke in a soft tone, nearly ready to break down again.

Yes! I only called you to test the mantra lord. Please go back, lord. Please forgive me for doing so! Please do! Kunti pleaded to Surya.

I am bound, Kunti! I cannot leave from here before providing you with the boon you are bound to attain! You have chanted the mantra. And you remember that the effect of the mantra you have chanted is irreversible.

The moment she realized what was to happen next, a feeling of anxiety struck her. Kunti gasped for air. She had no way that she could use to undo her mistakes. The words to Surya echoed in her ears. She had brought this upon herself. She could suddenly understand what people meant when they said: sometimes curiosity kills. What could she do now? There was no way to undo this whole situation.

With tears in her eyes, she looked again towards Surya. He could sense the gloom in her eyes. She had worshipped him since she was a child. Every morning, without fail, she had performed her puja. How he wished she did not chant the mantra. He gave out a sigh. Closed his eyes, mumbled few words and the river water shone with the light that spread around. The light shone for some time and vanished away, leaving no trace of Surya. He left, and the silence descended back. The little birds that were singing in the silence were quiet now, making the silence even more dreadful. Kunti wanted to hear someone speak, but it seemed like even the wind was not ready to blow around making noise that could give him a little solace.

Kunti spoke nothing. Sitting on a rock flat and straight, she stared into nothingness. Dressed in blue silk, she sat there. Kunti was beautiful. The daughter of King Prithu was named Pritha. Her father then gave her in adoption to his childless friend Kuntibhoj, after which she was named Kunti. She was a woman who had admired knowledge. Leaving her home, she would spend long hours reading the endless books stacked in the library of the beautiful palace. Large brown eyes, moderately full lips, a sharp and small nose, and her jet black curly hair that reached till her waist complimented her long face. She was fair and tall.

Kunti went back to the palace. Suddenly, that day, her father discovered a sudden change in her behaviour. That night she did not talk to anyone. Remaining confined to her room, she kept to herself. When a dasi went in, she felt a new fragrance filling the room. It was sweet and enchanting. She tried to recognize it but could not. She looked towards Kunti; she looked beautiful! Bashfully beautiful! She never looked that beautiful. Her beauty was more elaborate and more graceful. She was seated on the couch in her room. Eyes full of tears; she kept staring out of the window towards the river. It was as though that one day had changed the bubbly and chirpy princess of Kuntibhoj. The dasi tried to persuade her to have food, but she asked her to leave. As days passed by, she gradually became an introvert and kept quiet. She stopped talking to her friends, her dasi’s, her father as well. Kuntibhoj was tensed; his daughter remained confined to her room, spending her time alone. People at the palace saw her less frequently, and after few days, she even stopped going out of her room.

One day Kuntibhoj walked down to her room with a motive to talk to his daughter. He found her worshipping the idol of Narayan. As he interrupted her, she stood up and welcomed him in. He looked at her daughter, the playfulness in her eyes had ended, she looked more mature, and her beauty extended. He tried beating around the bush for some time, but realized that he would never extract the truth that way. Kunti understood what her father was trying to do, and hence she spoke in her usual manner Father I am fine! I am. You do not require to be so tense about me. I do not talk much these days; that is what worries you? The reason for this is: as I served Maharishi, I have come up to a conclusion that it is essential to know oneself from within. That is possible only through meditation. Hence I would like to continue this penance for some time. I would not be able to meet you much during this period. Please do not feel apprehensive about me. Priyamvada is there to look after me. If needed, I will send word through her.

Listening to her, Kuntibhoj felt assured. He was now sure that his daughter was fine. He assured her that no one including him would disturb her during this period of penance. He left, he sent for Priyamvada and asked her to take good care of her. Priyamvada was surprised, as Kunti had been avoiding her as well. Kuntibhoj left for his quarters. Kunti, on the other hand, was blaming herself for having lied to her father. She was awkwardly silent; her inner self was going through a period of turmoil. She had no other option other than to lie in the prevailing circumstances. She had thought a lot about it and derived the conclusion that only Priyamvada could help her through this, and it was essential to take her in confidence. Priyamvada had served her since childhood; hence a friendship developed between them, which would be beneficial for Kunti now that she was in trouble. She felt incredibly selfish, but this was what the need of the hour was. She could do nothing else. Kunti invited Priyamvada to sit near her, which she accepted happily. She sat there, and after a moment, Kunti began narrating all that had happened. Priyamvada, being a keen observer, could notice the fear in Kunti’s eyes. She was scared that everyone would find out about her little secret, which was not little at all.

On hearing Kunti’s words, Priyamvada burst into uncontrolled sobbing. She could not accept how Kunti’s childish mistake had resulted in such a dramatic change in events. She was crestfallen. Priyamvada had served Kunti to the best of her ability. She was even more distressed thinking Kunti was unable to believe in her friendship and confine the biggest secret of her life. Kunti hugged her and held her there for some time. She consoled her and said, Priyamvada I should have believed you when you advised me not to doubt the words of the sages. What baffled me was that even the gods were susceptible to the rishis mantra; they could not reverse it either! The strange assertion cried out to my doubting mind. I truly felt I needed to test and validate the mantra. Such a fool, I was Priyamvada! I guess Maharishi’s words were true. Whatever is happening today is all compiled by destiny that I can never change.

"I am paying a heavy price for my doubts, and this will continue until I live. I feel ashamed that I committed this sin, today I shudder to think of the future and the implications of destiny for my family and myself.

Kunti rolled on the bed in a fit of sobbing. She could not handle facing the past and also the present at that moment. Priyamvada I do not know of anything right now other than this one fact that we require tackling this problem and do it without any loss of time.

Kunti got up saying this. Priyamvada knew now that Kunti had already devised the plan of what she would do. Listen carefully! I do not know which divine power guided me when I lied to my father about the penance. But now whatever we do has to be done around this one lie of mine. My lie about the penance would assure both of us with complete privacy. No interference. But I do not know what do we do of the upcoming childbirth? How do we hide it from the world?

Priyamvada whispered, Don’t worry princess, and I know what to do with that and how to tackle that situation.

Months passed by as she spent all her time alone in her chambers. She only had Priyamvada who visited her during this period. That morning Priyamvada came to Kunti and spoke to her about leaving the palace for some time. She had to go to a far-off village to get a midwife who could deliver the child safely. The midwife had to come from a very far away town where there could be no rumours or any silly talks. Nobody noticed her absence as it was still early in the morning when she left. Kunti spent a tense day in her room. Priyamvada came back early, as promised. She came back with a woman of about forty to forty-five years. After preliminary introductions, the two women left, and Kunti was alone again. Kunti in recent days woke up and slept without a particular timing. It changed from time to time. She would even fall asleep suddenly as she sat down to read books she had once read, staying awake all day and night.

For the next one and a half months, she saw the midwife a couple of times, but not frequently. And Priyamvada was always there. Even if there was a slight movement in the room she would come in and ask Kunti of her wellbeing, this continued day and night till one day early in the morning when the sun was not yet up in the sky which lay a very light colour of blue, Kunti developed labour pains. Priyamvada managed everything with clockwork precision. Kunti finally gave birth to a radiantly beautiful male baby almost coinciding with the sunrise outside. The midwife was of great help. She assisted Kunti during labour, constantly rubbing her head and whispering softly the mantras of the vedas. Priyamvada ran errands for the midwife which included bringing the hot water, soft mulmuls and other such requirements. They all tried their best to do everything silently and without causing much commotion in the corridors. After hours of labour the child was born happy, healthy, beautiful, and sweet. Kunti looked out of the window, and she felt as though the sun had come up today, thrilled to welcome the beautiful child.

Child and Fate

That morning, the surrounding was full of illustrious light of the sun. It gave an impression as though the birth of his child had made him shine brighter with happiness. A similar glow illuminated the beautiful face of the princess, the mother of the beautiful child. The three women in the room forgot that the event that had taken place in that room was something that needed to remain a secret. It was fraught with basically bizarre repercussions for Kunti and her child. Kunti’s eyes were full of tears. Tears of happiness kept flowing down her blazing red cheeks, caused possibly due to the exhaustion of labour she had just gone through. Her new born lay next to her, in deep slumber. Even in sleep, he was exceptionally calm. He would sometimes smile, even while asleep. Those were reflex smiles that new born usually gives. Kunti’s gaze directed toward her son. The little small thing slept peacefully alongside his mother.

Never have I ever seen a creature so beautiful and calm before!

The child was delicate and fair and frail. His body was languid as a newly planted sapling. Everything about him looked wonderfully dainty and soft — his movements were faded, his hair curly, his eyes small but beautiful, covered with a soft muslin cloth around his miniature form. His chest shone as the sun rays fell upon it. The armour he was born with was the reason. It clung to his skin; it was a part of him. It was a protective shield provided to him by Surya. His fist clenched because of the palmar grasp reflex. Usually, the cause is an immature neurological system or a first remnant for holding on to their mothers. He lay on his back most carefully, the safest way for a new born to sleep. It looked as though the child gained assurance by just curling up his small fists. Out of nowhere, he would open his eyes, alert and then again close them falling into a deep slumber. Those eyes were the most striking, sharp, small, and pacified—the most beautiful part of his face just like his mother. Kunti’s beauty enhanced even more than before. She radiated a goddess-like shine. Having her hair open, she looked wonderful as though the girl had suddenly become a woman.

Kunti was marvelling over her beautiful son. The sun rays that had illuminated the room were slowly leaving it. Noon was approaching. Priyamvada first regained her composure. She sought Kunti’s permission to take away the midwife. Kunti hardly heard what Priyamvada spoke, the only thought that surrounded her was that of her child. Considering the intensity of Kunti’s affection for her son, it was more important to get rid of the midwife before bringing Kunti back to reality.

She left Kunti with the child, while the midwife accompanied her. Kunti now alone with her son happily cuddled her child, carrying him, she kept basking in the beauty of the newly found bliss. The bliss of becoming a mother.

Mother!

She was now a mother. A mother of a celestial child. The son of Surya. But she was not married. She was back to reality again. It was staring right into her face. Raw and rotten truth! She did not want to face it. No! She did not. Kunti was in a dilemma. What would she do? The child, where would he go? How would she leave him, the one whom she had given birth? Who brought her happiness? Who made her a mother? Kunti held her son close to her bosom, shedding silent tears. The young boy cringed. Kunti was distracted by all her thoughts. His need drifted her away from the approaching situation; she was living in the present. Her son was her present.

Priyamvada had a perfect plan of how would she get rid of the midwife. In the first place, she knew she had to pay off the woman thoroughly enough to keep her mouth shut. She walked the midwife to her room where a generous amount of gold, jewels, and many other items kept around. The midwife’s eyes glittered. She went up to the edge of the bed and touched the gold coins held in various small pouches.

5000 gold coins! That’s something I can never think. It is wonderful. the midwife spoke with glee.

This is the price of keeping your mouth shut. Never gossip about anything that happened here. Remember; you came here to serve the royal family in the absence of the head maid, happy with your service you received these rewards. No gossip should escape your mouth Priyamvada strictly cautioned the midwife.

The glow on her face made it clear that she would not utter a word before anyone. Priyamvada then asked her to get ready to leave; she had to pack everything given and leave for her village hastily. Priyamvada went to get Kunti’s permission to leave the palace. The midwife was to remain in the confines of her room until Priyamvada sent for her.

Priyamvada hurried towards the room of the princess. Kunti was engrossed with her son as she had been when Priyamvada had left the room. She could see that Kunti had drifted away from reality. She was in her world of happiness. Whoever would look at her during those hours would witness her excitement. The son had filled the heart of the princess with joy. The women who had barely smiled during her nine months of pregnancy now were fussing over her child.

Kunti’s happiness ripped Priyamvada of her courage. She did not want to break her heart, at least not then. She had to face reality how Priyamvada wished that the son was Kunti’s firstborn after her marriage. Such a beautiful child was the boy; he threw no tantrums. Lovely and calm was what he was. Priyamvada silently observed the mother and son; she spoke nothing to Kunti. She just couldn’t. She left the two together. She knew he deserved her love; every child has the right to attain that love. She let Kunti shower all her affection over her son. The reality was to strike her later.

Priyamvada left the room without speaking a word she called for the midwife. The night was silent. The two walked on the lonely path which was full of the hustle and bustle during the day but the nights were equally silent. Every home belonging to the commoners of the city was quiet. Sleep had consumed all; the only voice heard around was that of the crickets and some few insects. The scent of the night queen filled the night. No one needed to see them going.

The two women passed the streak which was the home of the citizens of the Kunti kingdom. When they arrived at the riverbank, the midwife noticed a boat, empty, left there for use. But who would row the boat? She surveyed the area, tall standing mountains of stones, hard and cruel. The river flowed violently, everything to her eyes felt not Normal. She felt something not right; something very wrong was to happen.

Priyamvada hastily got into the boat, called the midwife in, and unleashed the anchor. They began rowing across, difficult? No, but challenging it was for her to move forward. A lot of her energy went in the get the boat move on; she struggled for what felt a whole long prahar. The sun was now to rise. Priyamvada could now see that everything was taking longer than it should have. The child had to live with Kunti one more day. They got out of the boat, and Priyamvada rushed the midwife to her house. She left her there with one last warning that she would not utter even one word about anything that happened in the palace in the previous months. She went to the midwife’s village with her face covered through the forest route, back to the banks, and then to the castle. Till she came back to the palace, it was already daylight. She walked indirectly to Kunti’s chamber only to find her nursing her child. She welcomed Priyamvada with a pained expression. The dasi now could witness acceptance in the beautiful eyes of the princess. But there was something that she wanted to say, some resolution. Kunti somehow looked calm.

Such a lovely child, he is Priyamvada! He did not trouble me even a bit in your absence. Kunti began.

"But princess, are you ready? You have to abandon him. If you don’t