The Kuru War: A Mahabharata Fiction

7| Yogya Parichaya

Hastinapur Arena, 485 BCE

A large crowd funneled through a narrow opening that led into the arena. It was an empty, dusty piece of land, surrounded by tall tents made of a reflective cloth that blocked the intense summer heat. People formed compact clusters of friends and family, crammed against one another as an ever-increasing number of watchers flooded in, eager to see the spectacle that was about to take place.

On one end of the arena, stairs led atop several elevated platforms lined with cushioned chairs that were filled with people wearing glimmering jewels and luxurious clothes. These were the highest-ranking Kshatriya officials and the wealthiest merchants in the city. A small unit of sentries with sun sigil symbols on their uniform protected the entrance to that special area, allowing only a select few to pass without resistance.

There was a patch of land in the middle, flattened and cleared of any small debris, surrounded by some flimsy looking planks of wood that separated it from the viewing sections. It was the participation area of the arena, a place where the city of Hastinapur had hosted several combat events and seen many great warriors compete with each other.

On the edge of the participation area, a long line of teenage boys queued in front of a registration counter. The sign above it read; Yogya Parichaya Pratiyogita. It was a prestigious tournament held once every two years for aspiring young warriors. The winners were awarded mentorship under Hastinapur's Rajguru Dronacharaya. A teacher who would mold the boys into skilled knights for the kingdom. Under Dronacharaya's direction, they would turn into men who were champions of both combat and politics. Masters of using their weapon of choice to deal with any situation, no matter how impossible.

Only men born in the royal family could learn from the highest Guru in the country, but this tournament gave a chance to any exceptional talent who deserved to be among them. Legendary warriors like Vajra (current General of the Hastinapur army) were made due to the recognition they received from Yogya Parichaya at an early age. Hence, a chance to fight at that tournament became every kid's dream, although, only a handful of them really had what it took to win.

A man behind the registration desk yelled instructions at the kids as they approached the counter one at a time.

"State your name, age, weapon, and Varna! Then go wait inside the tent behind me until your name is called!"

A lanky, dark-haired Karna stood in that line. With neither shoes nor armor, he wore an oversized silk shirt and white cotton pants that covered only up to his knees. An old wooden longbow with a bamboo quiver full of handmade arrows hung across his back. With others wearing steel armor, leather breastplates, long protective boots, he looked very out of place in that line.

"So you are an archer? You look like a beggar off the street."

A large boy wearing a studded leather set cut into the line in front of Karna. Laughter erupted from all directions when other boys in the line got a look at Karna's unusual attire.

"Did your mother make that bow for you, beggar boy?"

"No, he just tied a few sticks together."

Derogatory comments from other participants tore deep into Karna's skin as he tried his best to stay calm and control his response. He looked down at his mudded feet, trying to block out everything that was going on around him.

"State your name, age, weapon, and Varna!"

Fortunately, it wasn't long before Karna reached the counter. He looked up to see the man sitting behind the booth with his nose deep into the record book.

"My name is Karna. I will use my bow. I am fourteen years old, Ksh...Kshatriya."

"Okay, go wait in the tent until your name is..."

The man looked up to see Karna's face but didn't go back to write any name in his book. He took a moment and then stood up from his seat. He walked out of the counter and peered Karna from head to toe.

"What did you say your Varna was, boy?" asked the man looking disgusted. He came uncomfortably close to Karna and gave his shirt a quick whiff.

"Kshatriya..." Karna replied nervously.

"Lier! You are a Shudra, aren't you? I can literally smell the fish on your clothes. How dare you enter this tournament? Who even let you in?"

"But I am really good with the bow. I can win and serve the King!" said Karna.

The man looked furious, and his voice was loud enough for the crowd in the stands to take notice. Even the bullies watched in silence as the man grabbed Karna by his thin arm and started dragging him towards the exit.

"I will make sure you are punished for this boy! Your entire family will pay for such an insult of the King's rule. I..."

"What is going on? Stop right there."

An authoritative command stopped the man in his tracks. It was Rajguru Dronacharaya who had noticed a problem from a distance and came to check on it himself. The man instantly let go of Karna's hand and dropped on his knee to greet the priest.

"Guru Drona, this Shudra boy, he entered the arena and tried to register for the tournament. I was about to throw him out..."

Drona looked at Karna who appeared even more scared than before. His eyes had a hard time looking up to the Guru in front of him.

"You call yourself a warrior, young man? You think you can win this tournament when you are scared to even match my eyes?" asked Drona.

"I am... I am a warrior. And I can become the best archer in this country." replied Karna after a moment's hesitation.

"Shut up! Shut up! How dare you talk back to Guru Drona, you lowlife!"

The man stood up from his knees and started jostling Karna again.

"Go back and command your station, make sure everyone is registered properly. Leave this boy to me," ordered Drona in a stern voice.

"A Sudra can never have the potential to be a warrior! You understand?" The man said as he glared at Karna's soul through his eyes.

Karna bravely looked back into his hateful gaze before the man finally freed his arm.

"You don't look like a warrior to me. You look like a pitiful boy who found a bow in the jungle. If you disagree, then show me what you can do with it," said Drona.

Without a moment's delay, Karna pulled an arrow out of his quiver and knocked it. He aimed for a painted target on a wall, twice the average shooting distance away from him. But before he could let the arrow loose, Drona pushed Karna's bow down with his hands.

"I will never teach you, boy. I am faithful to my duty as a Rajguru to only teach royal Kshatriyas. You must now leave this arena immediately."

Tears filled Karna's eyes when he heard Drona's words, but he did not cry. He took a deep breath, placed the arrow back into his quiver, and started walking towards the exit.

Drona turned around to walk back into his tent when an arrow whizzed past his ear. It raced towards the wall and impaled right in the center of the painted target that was merely a few inches in area. An outstanding shot.

A wide-eyed Drona looked back at Karna who had fired the bow.

"I will become the most powerful warrior in all of Kuru nation, stronger than all of your students. I can promise you that much," said Karna before walking away for good.