A Different Path

Compromise

Karna groaned. Frustrated, he kicked himself off the bed, pushing the rackety blanket to the side, and exhaled deeply. Sleep continued to elude him as always, and its effects were starting to show in his body and mind. He was tired, so bloody tired all the time. He moved slowly, barely noticed anything, and his head pounded so hard in his skull he was sure it would explode one day.

Already he had woken up numerous times during the night due to the nightmares that hadn't ceased haunting him, even after he had left Hastinapura and retired to the mountains. But returning to the kingdom had increased their frequency such that not a single night passed when he hadn't been left horror-struck until the remnants of the nightmare slowly ebbed away from his absolutely fatigued mind.

He barely had any energy left for the day and Ashwatthama had been pestering him about it. But he didn't want to worry his friend unnecessarily. Heaven knew Ashwatthama had his own problems to deal with.

When he glanced at the stars in the dark sky, he was reminded of Vrushali and he wondered how his wife was doing. He hoped she was alright, and that she didn't miss him half as much as he missed her. He knew she was probably worried to death over him and it killed him that he had been such a lousy husband to her, especially after the war. He was so caught up in his own problems and dilemmas that he hardly noticed how his indifference, his frustration and his preoccupation had impacted her. He had underestimated her perceptiveness, she was a wise woman who had this curious ability to understand things in a way that very few could and he knew she saw straight through all of his false assurances that everything was okay with him. It wasn't, and she knew it. Karna remembered the hurt on her face when he wouldn't share whatever new ordeal his mind had for him, and it made him feel even more guilty.

"Why? Why won't you talk to me? I know this is difficult but please don't push me away! Talk to me!" Vrushali would say in exasperation, looking at him with the kind of sad expression that made him feel absolutely miserable.

"I can't. Not about this." Karna would reply in a whisper, though he would not let go of her hand even when she struggled to get it out of his hold. He would not let her go away from him.

She would pull his chin up, staring at him, her dark irises simmering with pain as her other hand gently caressed the side of his face. His hand rounded her waist, pulling her closer to him, a quietness descending upon the clamour of his wild thoughts.

"Why not?" She would ask breathlessly, her voice sending shivers down his back.

"It's a survival tactic," He would say and burst out in bitter laughter, and she would hug him hard like she was afraid he was going to disappear right before her eyes.

Or maybe she was holding on to the man he was, the one she had loved, the one who was now tainted with war.

He was startled by the sound of horses neighing outside his cottage, breaking the silence of the night, and he moved to the window to see who had arrived at such a time of the night. He groaned aloud once he realized it was Krishna making his way to the front door.

Krishna had sent him a letter that evening, requesting him to come visit him which Karna had ignored because he could guess that Krishna wanted to continue their previous discussion from where they had left it off and Karna had no interest in repeating the same damn arguments over and over again. He had assumed Krishna would be busy, considering that he was leaving for Dwarka the following morning and hence would let it be if Karna didn't turn up at the designated time. He should have known better.