Free Karna's Wife by Kavita Kane Page A

and probably did not consider her a threat to his sister-in-law, Vrushali, whom he was fiercely protective about.
    Unlike their older daughter-in-law, Karna’s parents seemed to hold Uruvi in open awe, as if she was a goddess who dared to tread the mortal path. These conflicting responses to her made Uruvi feel lost in her new palace, bereft, without the warmth of the family and friends she missed. She remembered how her father had watched her with a tender smile, her mother’s indulgent look as she played the sitar, Kunti’s delighted outpouring of affection each time they met, Bhishma Pitamah’s tolerant smile as she argued vehemently with him, Bhima’s relentless yet affectionate teasing…she was so used to the affection which they all so obviously felt for her, and expressed in pampering her. Uruvi had a naïveté, a charm and an eagerness that was captivating. There was a generosity of manner, guilelessness and a natural affability which could not but make people take to her. When she did not get the same affection in her husband’s home, Uruvi felt perplexed.
    Days flew by fast, but Uruvi got to know her husband very gradually. Karna was attentive and devoted, just as he was with each family member. But Uruvi sensed a certain detachment in his devotion.
    ‘I find something missing…he is with his family, yet apart. Although surrounded by people who love him, Karna is so alone, never satisfied. It seems that he is always searching, always wondering who his natural parents are…,’ she told herself.
    She noticed that no day would start without Karna paying obeisance to the early morning sun and then touching his parents’ feet with quiet reverence, followed by giving alms to one and all, whoever visited him at the palace. Despite his outward calm, there seemed to be a constant turmoil in him, as if he were in quest of his true self. ‘And neither I nor anyone else can help him out,’ Uruvi admitted defeatedly to herself. His life had been one long bitter struggle which he did not allow himself to forget. It was distressing to watch him steeped in his angst, yet arrogant in his conviction about his innate worth. He valued his merit but it was not enough for him until he was recognised and consecrated by society.
    As the King of Anga, the first duty Karna had taken upon himself was an oath. He swore that anyone who approached him with a request at midday, when he worshipped the sun, would not go away with his request unfulfilled. That was the reason why he would never allow anyone to leave empty-handed. Uruvi wondered, is that why he gave away alms so generously every noon? Was that unquenchable thirst for social recognition turning him into the most magnanimous of gift-givers? Was his philanthropy kindled by his need for self-glorification? Or was it an identification with the sun god and the inherent generosity of Surya? Or, more aptly, was it a driving need to imprint an unforgettable impression on society?
    He was the caring older brother to Shona, who clearly hero-worshipped him, the formality in their relationship tempered by a certain indulgence on Karna’s side. ‘He is still a child,’ he used to gently defend his younger sibling whenever Radha grumbled about him. ‘He is more like a son to you,’ she would retort, and both mother and son would laugh together.
    Uruvi was witness to Karna’s sporadic flashes of dry humour, especially among people who could understand his witty remarks. Karna was amusing and spirited if he allowed himself to relax—he had a fabulous memory for a funny story and was whimsical, sometimes indulging in pure fun.
    If Karna could make Uruvi laugh—and he did—she knew he could do the same with Vrushali too. Each time Karna glanced at Vrushali, Uruvi, despite herself, felt a red-hot jealousy and she hated herself for it. Watching them, she felt her eyes burning in their sockets, like burning coal. Gripped by envy, she could not speak as she watched them talk to each