KARNA: Son of the Charioteer

Chapter 12

Radheya's heart was truly shattered into pieces. "Guru, thank you for your teachings. I have nothing to offer you as my guru dakshina. Ask for something, and I will give it to you."

Parashurama smiled, "Walk the path of truth in your life and never turn away from it. That's all I ask of you."

"I promise to live by it with my life." Radheya's tears flowed freely.

"Accept this," said Parashurama, handing over his personal bow and arrow named Vijaya.

The bow and arrow were crafted by Vishwakarma, the god of architecture and weaponry, for Lord Shiva. Once received by Parashurama from Lord Shiva, it had accompanied Parashurama in his conquest of the world twenty-one times.

Vijaya was an unparalleled bow and arrow in the world, surpassing any other weapon. Parashurama then recited an incantation and shot an arrow into the sky, which then fell in an incredible amount exceeding the capabilities of the divine weapon known as indrastra.

"Bhargava astra," said Parashurama, "The only divine weapon that only you and I know of. No one else in this world below knows of it."

Radheya accepted the bow and arrow, reciting the incantation with tears streaming down.

"Let your name be renowned for your truthfulness in life and famous for all time," replied Parashurama.

Radheya finally left Mount Mahendra to return to his birthplace. He returned to his home where Adhiratha and Radheya were in Hastinapur, as it was the only place he could consider home after being expelled from the ashram. The journey would undoubtedly take months.

Without obstacles, he journeyed through the forest and often went hunting. Some of his hunting spoils were sold in the markets of the cities he encountered.

He no longer dared to wear Brahmin clothing, so to meet his needs, he needed money during the journey.

One day, Radheya entered a sparsely populated forest and there he saw a cow looking at him gently. He quickly drew his arrow and pulled his bow. The thought of getting a large cow as prey excited him.

However, a whisper from his heart made him curious; could a wild cow be in this forest? Perhaps this is someone's cow?

Radheya understood how valuable a cow is to its owner. The arrow returned to its sheath.

He then went around to find other prey. As the evening approached and he passed by the place where he came from, he saw the cow suddenly behaving strangely, foaming at the mouth and its eyes turning red as it stared at him. The cow's four legs began to run towards him.

Radheya easily dodged and avoided it, and when he was behind the cow, he took his arrow and shot it, aiming for its head. It only lasted a moment; the cow's body fell to the ground.

Radheya approached and looked at the cow. Thinking of selling its meat, but the cow's strange behavior might indicate that it was already diseased, making it impossible to sell.

At that moment, an old Brahmin approached the cow and cried so sadly. "This is my cow! Why did you kill it!" he shouted angrily. "What is the helpless cow's real mistake to you that you killed it."

Radheya fell silent.

The old Brahmin wailed, "He was like my own child. I live by selling his milk. Now, after killing him, how will I survive? Just kill me too."

Radheya felt immense guilt. He looked at the cow, now lifeless. He couldn't do anything more. He didn't have the ability to bring it back to life.

"You! I curse you to be killed just like my cow here. You will be shot by an arrow when you are completely defenseless!"

The curse deeply pained Radheya. However, the truth was that he had killed someone else's cow.

He respected the old Brahmin and helplessly went down to the nearest village. With all his remaining money, he bought the best cow there and instructed the seller to deliver it to the Brahmin hiding in the forest.

Tears streamed down Radheya's face. His teacher had said he would be famous. Yet, just moments after descending from the mountain, he had received a curse for his death. Especially from a Brahmin who had meditated in the forest.?

His heart felt heavy.

Radheya continued his journey and said to himself.

Whatever will happen, let it happen. Death is the duty of every human, there is nothing to fear.

A year later, Radheya was in Hastinapur. Sitting on a horse-drawn carriage, one hand holding the reins and the other swinging a whip. In the past six months, he had worked as a good horseman for his daily income.

Nothing had changed for him. A son of a charioteer naturally became a charioteer. There was nothing he could do about it.

At night, Radheya looked at his Vijaya bow hanging on the wall of his house. The bow that had once ruled the world many times was now dusty and had been idle for six months.

As he returned home with all his knowledge, he found no place where that knowledge could be used.

He remained a sutaputra (son of a charioteer). He couldn't work as a Kshatriya, which was the right of every Kshatriya caste lineage.

No one would accept him, no matter how skilled he was in archery in front of them. He couldn't even become a palace gatekeeper. Only those of Kshatriya descent could work in the government.

He also didn't have the capital to become a merchant like the Vaishya caste. In the end, he could only be a sutaputra. He went into the forest, hunting and cutting wood to earn money to make his own chariot. Then he became a charioteer for various Brahmins, Kshatriyas, and Vaishyas.

Truly, that was all he could do, be a sutaputra after having the greatest weapon in the world and possessing strength said to be equal to Mahaguru Parashurama.

Several times, while washing his chariot on the banks of the Ganges, he met his old friends from sutaputra families washing their chariots too.

They often asked about his journeys over the years. Radheya couldn't tell them his story, which they might think was too exaggerated. In the end, he could only say, "Looking for horses for my chariot."

When in reality, he obtained them by buying them from the market.

Radheya sighed, feeling powerless. Everyone needed food, and food required money. Those who didn't work wouldn't earn money, and he was old enough to be independent and support his parents.

No matter how great he was, his birth had determined his fate. Maybe he could try to become a famous sutaputra. Like his teacher said, he would be famous.

As a sutaputra.

Honestly, he didn't mind being a sutaputra. He could have a peaceful and organized life, as well as serve others. He just had to follow the destiny given to him.