“The warrior who ignited the greatest war. The brother who couldn’t stop envying and hating his brothers. The adharmic son who at every step of his life fought for the throne that did not belong to him. The villain. The kaurava who destructed his family and the world. That is all I’ll be remembered as.
A villain.
But I never would be remembered as the hero who fought all his life. Fought for what belonged to him. Fought to be accepted and respected. Today, I don’t know if the throne belonged to me. It did, I was the son of the elder brother, and so I did deserve the throne. But I wouldn’t have been losing the war if it truly belonged. The Pandavas were the son of the younger brother. They weren’t even truly the children of Pandu. They were obtained from the gods by Mata Kunti and Mata Madri. Though Yudhisthir was elder than me, but wasn’t I the true heir to the throne.
They say I am evil. I am Adharmic. I hate my brothers. Yes, I do. I wouldn’t have if my rights weren’t challenged every time. The Pandavas were born with divine skills and superior knowledge being the children of gods. Why not me? Why I had to live unlike them. Why wasn’t I blessed with strength like Bhima or valor like Arjuna? I devoted all my life to envy towards them because I felt I should have also been blessed with these superior skills. I devoted all my life to hating them because they challenged my right to the throne and I felt lower. Everyone treated me lower than them. Why wasn’t I a son of God? A victim rather than a villain I believe. A son of a blind king.
Today, I am alone. No one by my side. My brothers died. My friends and allies died. Karna died. My family died. I have no one. No one to win the war for. No one to live for. How can live when all of them died for me?
I remember vividly, Bhishma Pithmah and father caressing me and proudly addressing me as the heir to the throne. All of it changed when the son of Pandu arrived. No one knew of their existence until they came to claim what never belonged to them. I remember Shakuni Mama holding me close to his heart, singing me to sleep. He knew what was going on in my mind. He knew of my insecurities. He embraced me as a long-lost friend and since then all I trusted was him. He understood me. He told me the truth when everyone buried it. Truth that the Pandavas posses a threat to my future.
I remember every small instance when I tried to kill the Pandavas. Poisoning Bheem or burning them to death in the lac house, these actions would never be justified. I had to kill them and preserve the throne. I remember them overpowering me yet again at the Swayamvyar of Draupadi. I remember them overpowering me by building a kingdom and a palace greater than mine out of a barren land. They were always better at everything. Insecurities were piercing me from within. And so I invited them to play the game of dice. I knew I would win every time the dice rolled. I won their kingdom, all their assets and I won them. They were my servants. I felt I had finally won over them. Until Draupadi denied being my servant. The rest is history. A history I would burn down. I do regret it.
After their years in exile, I denied returning the kingdom to them. Why should I give them what always belonged to me? I had to fight. I knew it would lead to a war, and I did not step back. I denied accepting all peace talks. The only way out was always a war. It was time we fight and preserve our kingdom. But maybe it was never mine to fight for. I always believed it was but I wouldn’t have been losing the war if it belonged to me.
And all this time, it was Karna who never let go off me. He was always there by my side. I miss you my friend. The war is nothing without you. My life is nothing without you.
I remember the day when Karna touched my life. He dared to challenge the Pandavas but was denied. Denied to prove his skills to the world. I had felt the denial. And so I accepted him. Someone just like me, craving to prove his worth in the world. He had been my greatest ally since then. My greatest friend. He is truly the epitome of friendship. He was the brother of Pandavas, the son of Kunti. He could have betrayed me but he never let go of my hand. Instead, he fought against his own brothers. He died preserving the promise he made to me- endless friendship. I am grateful I had you, my friend. You are the greatest warrior of all times.
I bow at you.
Maybe I was just another victim. A soul chosen to establish dharma by engraving its name as the villain. A part of me still believes I fought for what belonged to me, I fought for Dharma. But my heart is pounding, my mind isn’t at peace. My soul isn’t silent. I lost everything and everyone. I lost all of it only to be remembered as a villain. I fought the war all my life only to die alone. I dared to preserve the throne only to lose it to the Pandavas.
But all I want is to be remembered as someone who sacrificed and fought all his life. As someone who did make wrong choices but who also dared to fight the world and not give up. I’ll be known as the villain of the story, and yes I was. I was the villain because I was a victim. Though I had chosen Adharma all my life, I lost. The war was never about the throne of Hastinapur. It wasn’t about brothers fighting and it wasn’t about fighting for what belonged or what was promised. The war was to establish Dharma. To carve out a story that would inspire ages.