Recap: At the end of the Kurukshetra war, the royal families gather at the cremation ground for performing the final ceremonies for the dead members. Kunti is devastated by grief and guilt. She decides to atone for the injustice done to to Karna, and reveals to Yudhishtra that Karna was her son. She then narrates her story.
This is Kunti speaking.
I am known more by my foster father King Kuntibhoja’s name. My real name is Pritha and my real father is Susena, the Vrishni chief and the grand father of Krishna. So I am Krishna’s aunt, and Krishna is my brother Vasudeva’s son. The Vrishnis are a branch of the Yadava clan who descended from Soma Deva, the Moon God.
It has always been my greatest anguish that I didn’t have the protective armor of a mother’s love. Layered underneath my cheerful and friendly disposition is my frail and insecure ego that tries to fortify and nurture itself with approvals from others. I can never forgive my father for gifting me away so casually to Kuntibhoja, his close friend and cousin – his paternal aunt’s son. It distressed my father that his cousin should despair not having a child. So my father gifted me away. Just like that. Where was the need to ask me if I wanted to go?
With my coming into the family, Kuntibhoja’s fortunes rose and soon a son was born to him. So Kuntibhoja considered me his lucky charm, and showered his affection on me.
Kuntibhoja was very religious and I was his constant support in all these activities.
One day, my father came into my chamber looking very worried.
“Pritha, I know you are a good girl. You know all the social norms—how to talk to elders, how to behave with friends, and how to treat venerable sages and ascetics respectfully. Every one in the palace talks highly of you. Even the servants agree that you are the most agreeable person….”
I looked up and smiled at my father, wondering why he was telling me all that. May be, it was a prologue for something very important. Something unpleasant, something tough, for which he was preparing me. Doesn’t he know I would do anything for him?
He smiled back and stroked my head with love. “You are looking so lovely…so heavenly,” he said with pride-tinged, tender voice, and mumbled, “and that reminds me of my duty.”
I knew what his duty was. My marriage. And preserving the chastity of the girl till she was “gifted away” in marriage was no mean task.
“Oh, no, father!! Not again,” I said facetiously, but noticed that he did not return my smile.
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