Karna lifted his chin and scanned the faces in the crowd. And he came face to face with his worst nightmare. There was no rage in their eyes, not even the Namins’. They looked at him with the emotion he feared most – pity. It was the most brutal gesture of all. Karna could handle their hate. He had learnt how. But as their faces tried to extend him comfort, as they made tch tch sounds of sympathy, he felt the glass palace of his pride shatter in his head. Let me out! the dreaded voice of the animal he had caged in the black ocean of his mind, growled.

The animal rumbled in his stomach, raging to be released. The voice screamed at him to turn the bow towards the Panchalan throne. He could have easily broken the arrow into two and taken down Krishna and the wretched Princess before they even realized what was happening. But Karna continued to hold the bow that most of the noble-blooded suitors had not even been able to lift, his bow arm outstretched. Let me out! The voice sounded like two men screaming at him together. How badly he wanted to oblige. He realized that the longer he stayed, the fumes of rejection would choke him and release the other within. It had already filled his lungs and deadened his senses.

The humiliation Karna felt soon turned to grief and regret, and the voice inside faded away. Grief that he had thought she would come to him. Regret that he had ever danced with her. All energy seemed to seep out of his body. He forced himself to rise and place the bow gently back on the table. Proud as the sun at noon, head held high, beautiful to behold, Karna walked slowly back to the gallery.

Bahlika saw him come and quieted. But Shakuni and Bhurishravas continued to exchange insults with Krishna.

‘Let it go,’ Karna said in a tone that left no room for argument.

The dangerous streak within him must have left a large imprint on his face, for Shakuni nodded and sat down without a word of protest. Karna went to his seat and sat with his head down, his jaw clenched in fury. Even Sudama knew better than to approach him. Silently, they all resumed their seats. But there was no more cheering, no more laughter, no more jeering.

A fraught silence fell on the arena.

Unable to contain himself, Bhurishravas said, his voice loud and harsh, ‘The Princess will no doubt get what she desires, to remain unwed and barren all her life!’

Murmurs of approval greeted his words. A babble broke out, as if a dam had released its flood waters. Many complained about the level of difficulty of the competition. Others were livid about the humiliation suffered by Karna. Clamour filled the stands. The drunken crowd was growing agitated, feeling cheated of the fierce competition they had expected. There was to be no winner.