Brotherhood

4 months ago

proteeti

@sambhavami

Krishna closed his eyes as he lay his head on the table. While the cool air gushing in through the window overlooking the ocean brought with it some respite, Krishna felt the exhaustion of the past few weeks creeping up his bones. After all, all he wished to do was run back to Rukmini's chambers, play with his little daughter, and smell her tiny head, while his wife played with his bonny curls. At the same time, even though he had left Manmatha in charge of guarding Rukmini's room, Krishna still felt uneasy.

The pile of pending papers requiring approval rose a foot above his head, threatening to topple with the gentlest touch of the minutest draft. He sighed loudly, carefully plucking a paper from the top of the pile. It read - "Reimbursement Request for Gifting of Four Cows each to Seven Brahmans". Krishna plopped his head back onto the table. At least the wood was a welcoming coolant. 

At this moment, Krishna looked up as footsteps shuffled into the room and settled in front of him. It was Satyaki.

Krishna waved the paper in his cousin's face with an exasperated look, "What even is this?! Who gave cows and for what?!" He exclaimed.

Satyaki shrugged as he extracted the paper from his miffed cousin's hands and put it in a separate bin.

"The Hastinapura reports I gather, brother." Satyaki held out another stack of papers, "Uncle Akroora had them delivered to me for discretion. I didn't open the seal." He smiled.

Krishna laughed as he carefully balanced the papers atop the existing tower, "Feel free to open them next time. I hardly have any secrets from you."

 Krishna exhaled loudly as he eyed the growing stack. Turning to Satyaki he asked, "Did no one think to send at least half of these to Rama while I was busy tending to my wife?"

Satyaki grimaced. He looked rather embarrassed, "Um, so how do I put this? Brother Rama has been out celebrating the birth of the little angel with a drink...or two...or more? Congratulations, by the way!"

Krishna sighed again, "And where might he be...celebrating?" 

Satyaki picked silence to be the best course of action as he fidgeted with a flower etched onto the table.

"Satyaki, think again," Krishna leaned forward, "Who do you fear more- me or him?"

"You. Anytime." Satyaki drew a sharp breath, "But I am not sure...one of the bars near the beach maybe?"

"Good choice. Now come," Krishna captured his cousin by the elbow despite the latter's weak protests, "Let's find out together."

---

As Krishna marched down the road along the beach, Satyaki nervously tagging along, he found his mind wandering back. 

To a humid summer night, about a decade back. 

When the war with Jarasandha had consumed their lives, raging like a storm right outside the gates of Mathura city.

That night, he had woken up, strewn on a straw bed, after a long day of battle. Feeling a litany of wounds scattered on his body, he had confusedly called out a couple of times- to his brother. Even as the grey outline of the tent roof had come into focus, Krishna had heard a voice to his left.

"What's a 'dau'?" A soldier laid similarly on the bed beside him had asked.

"Nothing. By chance did someone send for Prince Rama?" Krishna had asked him.

The soldier had smirked, "Oh you poor thing. How hurt are you?"

Krishna had mustered up a small smile, "My arms feel numb, otherwise I seem fine."

"Then, clearly you didn't see who rescued you, did you?"

Krishna had shaken his head weakly. The soldier had laughed again, "This is a prisoners' tent you see," He had said, jingling his arms to draw Krishna's attention to his hands, which were chained securely to the edge of the bed.

Krishna had thrown his head back on the bed, terror creeping up his spine. Turning as much as he could towards his roommate he had whispered, "Does Jarasandha know I'm here?"

"I'd assume not, unless he gets a report for every random boy his men capture!"

It had been the soldier's turn to be surprised as Krishna had smiled, "Then you must not know who I am."

The soldier's demeanour had predictably changed once Krishna had introduced himself.

"Now I am surprised that the elder prince hasn't stormed this camp yet!" He had said.

"Rama must not have noticed I am gone." Krishna had shook his head, "Just as the boy that cried wolf, I too have disappeared far too many times in the cover of the night. I don't think anybody would think to look for me until sunup. But wait, I thought taking prisoners was illegal? I read it in the pre-war agreements!"

"Welcome to the real world, your grace." The soldier had replied sarcastically.

"Please tell me this is not happening!"

"Not like we don't have prisoner camps!" The soldier had retorted.

"No, we don't!" Krishna had exclaimed.

"Oh, but we do. I should know, I was on guard duty there until a couple of weeks ago!"

"That can't be true, we had all signed that agreement-"

Hardly had Krishna finished his sentence, when Jarasandha had entered, accompanied by his bodyguards and a doctor.

Jarasandha had taken a seat beside Krishna, "I assume your arms feel numb. It's just a normal reaction to the poison- No!" Jarasandha had placed a hand on Krishna's chest pushing him back down, "It's just to cauterize the wound."

Jarasandha had then slipped his hand under Krishna's head and gently propped him up, with his other hand tracing a long cut running along his chest. 

He had spoken, "This is a poison of our doctors' devising. When used in minor doses, it helps cauterize particularly nasty wounds. You're in for a rough night though."

---

In the morning, Krishna had woken up in a pool of sweat, the poison having burnt through his blood all night, albeit feeling better. Once the sun had risen above their humble lodgings, guards had taken him to Jarasandha's private tent. 

In that tent, he had had a conversation that rang in his ears, still bringing him to the brink of anger, even a decade later.

Upon entering the tent, Krishna had found Jarasandha in the middle of breakfast. Several empty thrones were laid out in a rectangular fashion. Jarasandha had sat at the head, sipping on a bowl of payasam. In his left hand, he had held a letter, perusing it casually between sips. Jarasandha had given no indication that he'd even seen Krishna, even though, with a mere flick of the hand he had immediately dismissed the guards, leaving Krishna to stand awkwardly before the King. After some deliberation, Krishna had settled down on the tiger-motif throne to the left of the Emperor.

The table had been laden with regal food. After a long night rendered tougher with unplanned fasting, Krishna quietly took a bowl and served himself some of the payasam from the King's bowl.

After a while, Jarasandha had broken the silence, "Stop stealing glances at the letter like a lovesick puppy, boy. It doesn't contain any state secrets."

The emperor had continued, "It's just a letter...from my daughter Asti. You may have heard of her. Here-" He had slid the piece of paper towards Krishna, "Read for yourself. No? Why, Krishna? Well, no problem either way, allow me to summarize. So my eldest, widowed daughter has been declared inauspicious and debarred from participating in a festival that she has looked forward to ever since she was a toddler. Why? Because someone in this room killed her husband. What's more? She writes- Prapti, my younger one, is going hungry for days because she thinks that absolves her of the sin of being unfortunate enough to have lost her husband so early. Say then Krishna, what should I write back?"

Jarasandha had then stood behind Krishna, with both hands on his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh, "I am not a monster, Krishna, no matter what you've been told," the emperor had continued, "I see you, Krishna. I see the guilt, the second thoughts. They made you do this. Told you lie after lie. It's almost midday, so why hasn't anyone come looking for you?" Jarasandha had smirked, "You know, at first I thought I would exchange your life for Mathura's throne. I thought. But then, Krishna, they wouldn't save your life by exchanging even an expired penny! Don't you know that? Don't you feel it? But you?! I am confident, my boy, that the moment that I turn my back, you'll be out of here. Maybe you'll even take out a chunk of my army while you're at it!

"You think I made Kamsa what he was?! That I was behind his heinous crimes?! Go ask your grandfather what he did to your uncle! Ask your grandmother why my daughters do not live in the family house they are legally entitled to! I get that you were raised a slave, but why is it so hard for you to shed these shackles in your mind now? You clearly know your worth. Even imprisoned, you dared to take my son's seat and partook from my sustenance with such ease. I've known the Yadavas far longer than you have, I know their pulse. They will never appreciate you. They will keep you leashed like an attack dog, one that is to be unleashed at any undesirable entity. You will spend your life protecting them, and they will not lift even a finger in your favour. You will never achieve anything in their midst, but if you wish, with your permission, I offer my meagre help. I never wished to antagonize you. Never! In fact, I am amazed at your valour. I'd be honoured if I am allowed to give you a place in my army, a throne at my side, and an opportunity to rule the Yadava people exactly like they deserve to be!"

Gathering himself to smile as sweetly as he possibly could, Krishna had whispered, "Is this the same pitch you gave my uncle?"

He had immediately felt the emperor's fingers tightening on his shoulder, slipping closer to his throat. 

"Smart boy!"  Jarasandha had sneered.

Krishna had still smirked, "Jig's up, Jarasandha. You're not getting me. Not now, not ever. I'll admit that it was a good try, but alas not good enough. If you had really understood me, you would know that I don't give a damn about my so-called family. I fight for my people. The people whose houses your army would pillage. The people whose women they would take. You'd have to kill me before you get to any of them!"

Jarasandha had guffawed, "You know what they call the warriors who wear their hearts on their sleeve, Krishna? Fools! I had clearly overestimated your acumen. You've got a lot to learn, boy! I wanted your support, but you gave me a target!"

Krishna had cursed himself then, for being so frank, however the damage had been done. Jarasandha had relinquished him, albeit with a shove that had left him at the edge of his seat, wincing. The emperor had then sat down, with a pen in his hand.

"You know what Krishna, I was planning to leave you alone once I had defeated you, but no! You had to go and piss me off. So you will die. I had high hopes for you, but it seems the nurture was stronger with you. People like you are not even worth enough to us, the Kings and Princes of this celebrated land, to sully our hands with your blood. I have another boy in my army, just like you. Ekalavya or something, he is called. Some nishada. An excellent shot despite that impediment of his birth. I'll have him finish you off. But not now," Jarasandha had smirked, "It wouldn't be fun if we did it now. So, go! Get out! Heal up, and come back. You'll be killed then, and your kingdom burned to the ground. Guards!"

Krishna had stood up, "Fine then. Release my man, and I'll be out of your hair."

Jarasandha raised an eyebrow, "What about this interaction indicated that this is a negotiation?"

"By our agreement, you cannot keep prisoners during war."

"You have more prisoners than me, Krishna. You don't see me making a fuss."

"I'll release them as soon as I return. Release my man."

Jarasandha nodded, "For what it's worth I wasn't lying about your family. If you heed my advice, stop shielding them from me. After all, ulterior motives aside, I come bearing only the consequence of their actions."

"Yeah, that's why you offered to spare them if they handed my brother and me over to you," Krishna smirked back.

"In my defence, you weren't supposed to know about that. May Mahadeva pardon me," Jarasandha said, "But you do remind me of my second son, Jayatsena. You both have the same youthful misguidance and a pesky little thing called morals. I'll be waiting to see how long that lasts." He smirked, "Anyway, tell the guard on your way out, he'll bring your man out."

Krishna had walked back in from the door, for one last time, "Letting me go. This is the biggest mistake of your life, Jarasandha. One day your widowed wives shall curse the almighty for allowing you such lapse in judgement, I promise you that."

Upon being released outside the campground, the soldier had immediately wrapped Krishna's arms around him. Krishna too, as surprised as he had been, found himself slumping despite all efforts to remain standing. "H-how did you know?" He had asked the man.

"Watched you all night. There's no way you were staying upright any longer. Come on now, our camp's a mile to the west. Considering your speed and my imagined weightlifting trophies, we should get there in an hour or so."

Krishna had grimaced, "Just find Rama, and take me to him."

And so the soldier had done.

---

Immediately, upon entering Balarama's tent, the prince had rushed to them immediately, clasping Krishna's damp body to his chest.

"What happened to you?" Balarama had asked, himself sweating worriedly.

"My-my charioteer, Subahu, got killed and all of a sudden an arrow-" Krishna had pointed to his chest, at the scar still glistening blood-red against his dark skin, "I didn't think anyone other than me knew this trick. I was so worried that they got you too!" Krishna had extended an arm, pulling Balarama into a thankful embrace.

"It's almost evening, Dau," Krishna had sat up despite Balarama's protests, his eyes squinted, his palms shaking. His voice almost a whisper, he had spoken, "How come none of you noticed I was gone? Forget about the others, Dau, why didn't you?"

Balarama had averted his eyes, hemming and hawing till Krishna's eyes had found a glass, still half full, "Dau, please tell me you did not drink so much that you forgot about me?" Krishna had pressed, his voice shaking with emotion, "You're all I have, Dau! Tell me, you didn't forget me!"

"I...am sorry, Kanha."

"You are all I have," Krishna had repeated, almost mechanically.

"You're all I have too, Kanha," Balarama had cried, "You know that I'd give my life for you, don't you? Any day, any time, no questions asked! You know that, right? I'm just so...scared. All the time." 

He had cupped Krishna's face, running his fingers through his hair.

"It's me or...that, then." Krishna had replied in a steely voice.

"You," Balarama had replied, no hesitation in his voice, "Always, you." 

He shook his head, "You don't believe me? See!" Balarama had picked up the half-empty glass of wine and emptied it over his carpet. 

"See!" He had picked up the large pitcher and began pouring that as well over the floor, a thin stream of wine happily skipping out of the tent gate.

"Please stop," Krishna had whispered.

"No, I'll dispose of everything, right now! I will never let you down again!"

"No!" Krishna had shouted finally, "I am running on some really disgusting payasam, I will it throw up. Please stop."

Balarama had finally collapsed into a chair, looking more defeated than anything else. "I am so sorry," he whispered, "I should have checked in on you. I am the oldest. You were my responsibility, and I failed you so utterly."

Krishna had shook his head, holding his sides with a hand, "No, you didn't. We are in this together. I too should have taken better care of you. I let it...get this far. At least half of this is on me. What's more important is that we leave. Guard! Get Satyaka's kid here, urgently!"

As soon as Satyaki had entered, Krishna had stood up, although on shaky feet. Steadying himself with his arms on Satyaki's shoulder, even before the boy had had time to process what he saw, Krishna had whispered, "You once told me you will do whatever I tell you to, no questions asked. Do you still abide?"

Satyaki had nodded. Krishna had spoken, "Gather all the aahir, gopa and naga people. Escort them, respectfully, into the citadel, and find them someplace to live. Use our palace if need be. I wish for you to tend to them personally."

"Sure brother, but will the ministers allow it? You know they are not permitted to enter past the city gates!"

Krishna had taken a long breath, "If anyone has anything to say, meet them at the city centre, with a sword. Can you do that?"

Satyaki had nodded as he had ran out.

"Leave...where?" Balarama had asked after a while.

"Just somewhere that is not...here. I'll have my eagle-flagged chariot prepared. We'll take the Arab horses."

"Do you want to get caught?"

"No. Jarasandha wants to play hide-and-seek. His onslaughts upon the city are going to keep on coming. Rations are at an all-time low, and so is morale. We cannot keep doing this forever. To be honest, Dau, I misjudged today. In doing so, I made an error that put a lot of people's lives in danger. I must correct that, at any cost. Jarasandha's got us cornered, no way out. So, let's play his game. He wants Krishna, I'll give him Krishna...well, almost."

"As you wish," Balarama had nodded, although he didn't look very convinced.

---

Satyaki had returned, just as Krishna and Balarama had reached the clearing where the grand chariot had been parked. Its curves and grooves sparkled in the clear moonlight.

"I got 'em all, brothers! Except just a few."

"Who'd you leave out?" Krishna had asked, surprised, squinting his eyes to count the number of enemy tents lit up by torches in the distance.

"This is tricky. Um, they are your father, mother, friends...the entire Gokula village. Also, one, um, some, specific people from Barsana. They bade you luck, and promised that they will watch your back."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Krishna had exclaimed.

"I said that already...albeit in softer terms."

Krishna had slumped against the chariot, "They cannot be doing this to me right now!"

"Let me convince them," Balarama had spoken up, having contemplated silently until then, "It's the least I can do. Krishna, you proceed. Satyaki, you return to the city, and lock it down. I'll catch up when I can. No, Krishna, do not stop me. It's been long since I've seen them anyway."

"Fine," Krishna had said, his voice betraying his worries nevertheless, "One last problem then. My charioteer was killed in the battle yesterday, may God rest his soul. Currently, Rama insists on going to Vrindavana, and I am in no state to drive-"

"Your graces," The soldier had spoken up suddenly, startling all three.

"You haven't gone to barracks yet?" Balarama had asked incredulously. Then he had added, after a moment's contemplation, "Ah, I forgot to pay. Please do not take this delay in expressing my deepest gratitude to heart, I got overwhelmed."

"It's not a reward I seek, Sir. I am salaried." The soldier had smiled slightly.

"Then?" Krishna had asked.

"A soldier doesn't leave his post unless dismissed, Sir."

"Oh God," Krishna had laughed sincerely, for the first time since the previous night, "Well. Well, you're just great, no? Um, what's your name? Pardon me, I forgot to ask in all this hubbub!" 

"Daruka, it's Daruka." The soldier had replied, with a short bow.

"Well then, Daruka," Krishna had grinned, "How would you like a useless promotion?"

---

"Hey Krishna! Look, there he is!" Satyaki exclaimed, breaking Krishna free from his chain of thought. Balarama was fast asleep, glass in hand, even as he cradled a half-empty pitcher in the other arm. Daruka too stood there, with a helpless expression on his face.

Krishna gently ran his fingers through his brother's hair, whispering to him.

"Just go away already," Balarama complained in a muffled voice, without ever opening his eyes.

Satyaki and Daruka exchanged a look. However, neither of them dared utter a word, having both observed Krishna's shoulders tightening. 

Slowly, Krishna turned, his eyes red.

"I am done." He whispered, his voice shaking, "You two get him home, or not...whatever. I have work."