The Palace of Illusions

by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Dhri was still dissatisfied. “You're looking at the story through the wrong window,” he said. “You've got to close it and open a different one. Here, I'll do it.”

And then you were called into the world, Dhri. So that what started with milk could end one day in blood.

“And who decided that a woman's highest purpose was to support men?” I burst out as soon as we were alone. “A man, I would wager! Myself, I plan on doing other things with my life.”

I saw something I hadn't realized before: words wasted energy. I would use my strength instead to nurture my belief that my life would unfurl uniquely. “Perhaps you're right,” I said sweetly. “Only time will tell.” She scowled. It wasn't what she was expecting. But then a different kind of grin appeared on her face. “Why, princess,” she said, “I do believe you're growing up.”

You will marry the five greatest heroes of your time. You will be queen of queens, envied even by goddesses. You will be a servant maid. You will be mistress of the most magical of palaces and then lose it. You will be remembered for causing the greatest war of your time. You will bring about the deaths of evil kings—and your children's, and your brother's. A million women will become widows because of you. Yes, indeed, you will leave a mark on history. You will be loved, though you will not always recognize who loves you. Despite your five husbands, you will die alone, abandoned at the end—and yet not so.

He shook his head. “Only a fool meddles in the Great Design. Besides, your destiny is born of lifetimes of karma, too powerful for me to change. But I'll give you some advice. Three dangerous moments will come to you. The first will be just before your wedding: at that time, hold back your question. The second will be when your husbands are at the height of their power: at that time, hold back your laughter. The third will be when you're shamed as you'd never imagined possible: at that time, hold back your curse. Maybe it will mitigate the catastrophes to come.”

Krishna shrugged. “He believes it to be so. Isn't that what truth is? The force of a person's believing seeps into those around him— into the very earth and air and water—until there's nothing else.”

“Yes, I've learned a few things along the way, though now that I'm neither man nor woman they can't do me any good. But here's one that may be of use to you: the power of a man is like a bull's charge, while the power of a woman moves aslant, like a serpent seeking its prey. Know the particular properties of your power. Unless you use it correctly, it won't get you what you want.”

But can a sieve block the wind? Fragments of stories floated in my head, women who had saved their husbands by countering their ill luck with their virtue. Perhaps I could do the same for Karna? In the midst of that hope a regret leaped up like a leopard.

If foreboding flew over me on scorched wings, crying for its dead mate, I didn't hear. I smiled with sudden elation, thinking, This is what I've been waiting for all my life! I said, “This creation of yours that's going to be the envy of every king in Bharat—we'll call it the Palace of Illusions.”

But Krishna said, “Maya is right. Everyone who sees this palace will want it for himself. Envy is dangerous. You'll have to deal with it eventually—but why call it down on yourself before its time?”

Distance is a great promoter of harmony: a fact that women who find themselves in situations similar to mine should keep in mind.)

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.”

would be patient. I would be brave. Even this year would pass.

When I became queen again, I thought, I would make sure common women were treated differently.

But by then we would all know this: war is like an avalanche. Once begun, it cannot cease until it has wreaked all the destruction it is capable of.

Wisdom that isn't distilled in our own crucible can't help us. Thus, though my mouth parroted Krishna's words, my will swung between remorse and revenge, and my heart wouldn't stop stinging.

When Arjun asked why man found himself driven to wrongdoing in spite of good intentions, Krishna replied, Because of anger and desire, our two direst enemies. How well I knew them, my longtime companions—no, my masters—and their offspring, revenge! And how faithful they were! When I sought to rid myself of them, they clung to me most tenaciously.

But the sins you committed in ignorance are not your fault.” “I'll still have to pay for them,” Karna said. “Isn't that how karma works?

Righteousness was his nature. He couldn't give it up any more than a tiger can give up its stripes. And because of it he would go on, abandoning his dearest ones in the moment of their death, to the ultimate loneliness: to be the only human in the court of the gods.

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.

Try to remember that you are the instrument and I the doer.

Above me there is light—or rather, the absence of darkness.

Is this real, or am I seeing things? Krishna gives a mock sigh. “Skeptical to the last! It's real enough, though seeing isn't quite the word for it. You're going to have to learn a whole new vocabulary for all the things you'll be undergoing shortly. For now let me just say that each person experiences this moment differently.”

I am buoyant and expansive and uncontainable—but I always was so, only I never knew it!