The Thirteenth Night

This is part of the "Uttara Series" You will find under the Mahabharata. The series is also available on Wattpad.

The night of the Bhadra Amavasya saw a funeral pyre in the Pandavas' camp. Wails of the ladies filled the air as the young brave heart was turning into ashes. The ashes lit up a celebration in the Kauravas' camp. Duryodhan, Dushyasan, Shakuni, and Jayadrata all succeeded in their mission. Breaking the Pandavas' backbone, killing their favourite son. Karna joined in the celebrations reluctantly; he had released the boy from the pain. The face kept coming back to him. After all, he was his nephew. He shut his eyes in pain. The air tonight seemed cursed.

The pyre burning made the teenage widow run towards it. She had no hope of living without him. Life was already tough; each day, he went to war with a smile on his face. She had already lost her brother. Now she had none to return home to her.

"Stop!" His mother pleaded between the wails. "Stop her, someone, please!"

None could move. The 13th day of war had turned everyone into stone-cold statues.

"Uttara, stop!" His voice was more like an order.

"Why? Just Why? What had I done to deserve this Lord?" Her question made even Krishna's heart sink. He had arranged this marriage, the alliance. Knowing everything, knowing what was in store.

"Because when one purpose of life ends, another begins." He managed not to show his emotions. After all, he was the favourite nephew he had lost today. Life, knowing everything, was tough.

"Purpose?" She cried, sounding angry. "I have no purpose."

" His son is your purpose; raising him to be the future is." His words made everyone look up. What was he saying? A son?

His mother held her tight. "You have his heir in you." She cried.

The warrior Arjuna had lost to his father Arjuna today; he was shattered. At the pyre, at his wounded, lifeless body, at his wife, and his daughter-in-law. The warrior self wanted revenge. His blood was boiling, and so were his brothers. Krishna smiled to himself. This was what was needed. A turning point. Blood boiling for a kill.

On the darkest night, Karna was alerted by the sound of hooves, while the others drowned in Madira. He came out, weapons in hand, alerted. There he was, the brother, the greatest warrior, his biggest enemy. Raging into the enemy camp in a fit of rage. This was acceptable. His son was killed mercilessly. Dharma broke loose as the war continued from night to dawn. The Rakshas clan, led by Ghatatkach, were at the Pandavas' aid. Karna had to kill yet another nephew for his Dharma. The 13th day changed the course of the war differently. The Pandavas now saw enemies, not kin. In the next 5 days, they had won over the wrongdoers. If not for the 13th day, the darkest night, and that faithful Chakravyuh, history could have been different, and the epic could have changed. But in that Adharma lay the path to the win of Dharma just the way the Lord wanted.

The Bhadra Amavasya (New moon night of the Hindu month Bhadra) is regarded as the most inauspicious of days in the Hindu Calendar. People perform pujas and yajnas to keep away evil, and the darkest of nights are feared. The air, even today, has a hint of negativity around it. Today is that fateful 13th day of the war. Many people believe they should not step out of their home on the evening of a Bhadra Amavasya. It is regarded as a bad omen.

For me, however, it is always a day to remember the sixteen-year-old, who did what most brave hearts couldn't dare to. Enter the Chakravyuh, bravely and fought like a true warrior till his last breath. He proved to be a worthy son, a worthy nephew and an immortal warrior. It is the day to remember Uttara, the teenager, newly married, with dreams and hopes, shattered by a war, who had to live all her life alone, to bring up his son for the future of Aryavarta. It is a day I remember that age is just a number, for some, whose names remain immortal in time.

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