The Palace of Illusions

by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Suddenly I was tired and heartsick. I thought, I shouldn't have chosen this story. Every time I spoke it, it embedded itself deeper into my brother's flesh, for a story gains power with retelling.

Can our actions change our destiny? Or are they like sand piled against the breakage in a dam, merely delaying the inevitable?

An insidious voice inside me said, Karna would never have let you suffer like this. But that was no longer correct.

I wonder, if we all in life, have to experience the decision that lays on the balance like two grains of sand on a blade. A descision to pick between our Karna and our Arjun? What we beleive is right? Over what we hope is right? Which career? Which lover? Which name? Which path? Do we even have any control on that decision?

I would no longer waste time on regret. I would turn my face to the future and carve it into the shape I wanted. I would satisfy myself with duty. If I was lucky, love would come.

I was uncomfortable, miserable, disillusioned—and most of all, angry with Arjun. I'd expected him to be my champion. It was the least he could have done after plucking me from my home. When inside me a voice whispered, Karna would never have let you down like this, I did not hush it.

You and Me both Panchali. You and me Both :(

Expectations are like hidden rocks in your path—all they do is trip you up.

“Dear one,” he said, “time will teach you what you refuse to learn from your well-wishers.”

“Don't be so attached to what is, after all, no more than stone and metal and asura sleight of hand. All things in this world change and pass away— some after many years, some overnight. Appreciate the Palace of Illusions, by all means. But if you identify so deeply with it, you set yourself up for sorrow.”

Is the desire for vengeance stronger than the longing to be loved?

Time is even and merciful. No matter how long this year might seem, it will in truth be no longer than a year of joy in Indra Prastha.”

Just as we cast off worn clothes and wear new ones, when the time arrives, the soul casts off the body and finds a new one to work out its karma. Therefore the wise grieve neither for the living nor the dead.

The pleasures that arise from sense-objects are bound to end, and thus they are only sources of pain. Don't get attached to them. And: When a man reaches a state where honor and dishonor are alike to him, then he is considered supreme. Strive to gain such a state.

grandfather to rest his head, and at that, even

How a promise—made to another or to oneself—could paralyze a life! How pride had kept them from admitting their mistakes—and thus from the happiness that might have been theirs.

announced he'd had enough of palace living.

But don't think of hellfire now. And if you can't remember a prayer, don't let that distress you. Think instead of something that makes you happy.”

When I thought myself abandoned, he was busy supporting me—but so subtly that I often didn't notice. He loved me even when I behaved in a most unlovable manner. And his love was totally different from every other love in my life. Unlike them, it didn't expect me to behave in a certain way. It didn't change into displeasure or anger or even hatred if I didn't comply. It healed me.