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He wouldn’t fight for me. He wouldn’t fight me either. He said so. His own words. Of what use can he be to me? That’s what I thought at that time. I was looking for an army. I was looking for men to fight by my side. I was fighting for what was rightfully mine, no matter the justifications my enemies piled up for this war.
I went to him because of his stature. Because they said he could do the impossible. Everyone I knew had oodles of respect for this man. Me, I didn’t think much of him, but I am no fool. There’s no smoke without fire, right? Yes, he did try to broker peace. Well, peace is peace only if I am at peace with the terms. Otherwise, it’s just me burning on a slow flame. It didn’t work out. I didn’t want it to work out.
Peace should be lasting. Not a keg of explosives with a long fuse. That’s not peace. That’s simply biding time. Only one way. Decimate the enemy. Leave no trace behind. As long as the usurpers existed, peace was not an option. That was my line of thinking.
It hasn’t changed. Not even now when I am on my last breath and he is standing over me, his eyes twinkling, his smile gentle, soothing.
Defeated, dying, my legs shattered, my ego destroyed, I know now I never had a chance. From the moment the dice rolled, it was loaded against me. Literally. I just did not see it that way.
My breathing grows harsher. My eyes are dimming. I haven’t much time left in this world.
He addressed me. Krishna. In his gentle coaxing voice. His flute nestling in the palm of his hand.
He said, “Repent and you can go in peace.”
“You cheated, Krishna,” I cried. “You cheated. How can you cheat? How can you take sides? How can you ask that brute, Bheema, to attack me below the waist? Where is the honour in that?”
Krishna shrugged. “Where was your sense of honour, Duryodhan, when you gambled for your brother’s wife? Where was your honour when you wanted to disrobe her before a full court?”
My eyes fall to the ground. He turns away. A wave of sorrow engulfs me. But only for a moment…