Free Karna's Wife by Kavita Kane

wore on, he became aware that what he already felt for her was not the sense of duty a husband reserves for his wife, nor just simple lust. He admired her. Mixed with her vivacity was an inner calmness, a composure, a serenity that relaxed him. He found himself talking to her freely about matters he usually kept to himself—his political affairs, his passion for archery, his boredom with the rich society that he at once despised and yet used to promote himself like a hungry scavenger. It was not mere knowledge, but her ability to comprehend even nuances with a quick, deep perceptiveness.
    Barely a week after her stormy swayamwara, Karna admitted to himself that he was dangerously drawn to his new bride. There are very fine shades between love and longing, and need and desire, and Karna found himself uncharacteristically confused about his feelings. His fascination seemed to increase with each day—she excited yet soothed him; she was like a haven where he sought refuge and he knew he could never let go of her.
    He had been married to Vrushali for many years. His marriage to the suta princess had been a duty, marked by a devotion which was an innate, instinctive part of his nature, his love for Vrushali being as deep as his love for Radha, like a calm ocean. But he was mesmerized by Uruvi, entranced by her beauty and intelligence. As a man of power and a creature of struggle, Karna realized he was crippled by the ethics he followed, trapped as he was by his own principles. He always kept his word, for one. For everything he did, there was a certain reason, a logical journey from aspiration to determination. He had wanted to be a warrior; he was one today. He was born an orphan but fate had willed him to be brought up in a large family where love and affection was bountiful.
    And now, Uruvi had broken all his rules. She had won him; he had not acquired her.

     
    Vrushali was mild-mannered, but a woman of spirit. She was tall, dark and soft-spoken, but with a firm lilt in her voice. She clearly kept the family together and Karna treated her with the utmost love and respect. Although not a pretty woman, her gentleness and natural air proved that beauty did not really matter. As the older daughter-in-law and wife, she treated Uruvi formally with the politeness expected from her. Whenever they met, Vrushali was always cool and unflustered, looking at her steadfastly, without emotion.
    The two women got on reasonably well, with a cordiality lacking warmth. Uruvi did not feel comfortable with Vrushali, possibly because of her own sense of guilt for intruding in the older woman’s marital paradise. Or perhaps the warmth was lacking because of Vrushali’s innate aloofness—Uruvi could not really tell. They talked, they chatted, they lunched together, but Uruvi sensed a distance between them. For all their amiability they remained stubbornly unfamiliar, two strangers under the same roof, sharing and loving the same man.
    Uruvi was sensitive about the impression she made on others, and beneath Vrushali’s smiling, serene countenance, she discerned a certain remoteness. Her rival had already summed her up and Uruvi knew the conclusion was not an agreeable one. This disturbed Uruvi because she was used to the approval of others. It vaguely annoyed her that she had not impressed the other woman as favourably as she had intended to. Uruvi could not pinpoint the cause, but she knew that the older woman did not think well of her.
    Shona was a master of cold praise. Uruvi soon realized to her dismay that he disliked her, but she couldn’t do a thing to change his poor opinion of her. His innate civility and the affection he felt for his older brother kept him from making a direct statement, but his expression showed his disapproval of her plainly enough. He tried to avoid her, and was so excessively polite when he came face to face with her that it bordered on curtness. However, in spite of himself and grudgingly so, he had come around