After his grand marriage to Kunti and his subsequent marriage to Madri, King Pandu ruled Hastinapura with great distinction. Renowned for his military prowess and wisdom, he brought glory to the Kuru dynasty by expanding its influence and ensuring peace within its borders.
However, fate had other plans for the valiant Pandu, as a tragic twist would soon upend his life and the course of the Kuru dynasty.
Following his marriages, Pandu continued his military campaigns to consolidate Hastinapura's power. His victories brought wealth, prestige, and stability to the kingdom. Yet, the king yearned for respite from the battlefield and courtly duties.
After consulting with his advisors and obtaining Satyavati's blessings, Pandu decided to retire temporarily to the forest with his two queens, Kunti and Madri, to embrace the simplicity of ascetic life and pursue spiritual growth.
The lush forests provided Pandu with solace and a reprieve from the complexities of court life. He hunted to sustain his family and often spent time meditating on dharma and the impermanence of life. But it was during one such hunt that destiny struck.
One fateful day, Pandu ventured deep into the forest with his bow and arrows. The forest was serene, with the soft chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the gentle wind. Pandu's sharp eyes caught movement in the distance—a pair of deer locked in an embrace. Without hesitation, he drew his bow, his instincts as a hunter taking over. He released his arrow, and it struck mortally wounding one of the deer.
As Pandu approached the fallen deer, his heart sank as the illusion unraveled. Before him lay Rishi Kindama and his wife, their bodies writhing in pain as they reverted to human form. Horror-struck, Pandu dropped his bow and rushed to their side.
With tears streaming down his face, Pandu fell to his knees. "Rishi Kindama," he pleaded, his voice trembling with guilt, "I had no idea it was you. I am deeply ashamed of my actions. My intent was only to hunt for food, not to harm an innocent sage and his wife. Please forgive me! I beg for your mercy."
Rishi Kindama, clutching his wife's hand, looked at Pandu with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "Pandu," he said, his voice heavy with pain, "your ignorance does not absolve you of this sin. As a Kshatriya, you are bound to uphold dharma, yet you have killed a couple in their most sacred act of union, an act meant to create life. What justification can there be for such a deed?"
"I did not know!" Pandu cried out, his voice breaking. "Had I known, I would never have drawn my bow. Please, O Rishi, do not curse me. Tell me how I can atone for this grievous mistake. I will do anything in my power to honor your memory."
Kindama's eyes filled with tears of anguish as he looked at his wife, whose life was fading fast. "My wife and I took the form of deer to avoid disturbing others in the forest during our union," he said, his tone now tinged with sorrow. "We sought privacy and peace, but your arrow has destroyed everything. Your mistake has robbed us of our lives, our love, and our chance to create new life."
The sage's sorrow turned into wrath as he struggled to sit upright. "Pandu, just as you have snatched away our moment of joy and creation, so too shall you be denied that joy. Hear my curse!" Kindama's voice grew louder, resonating with divine power. "If you ever embrace your wife in desire, it will bring about your death. This shall be your punishment for your reckless act."
Pandu's heart shattered as the weight of the curse fell upon him. He clasped his hands together, bowing his head to the ground. "Please, Rishi Kindama, reconsider! I accept my guilt and deserve punishment, but this curse will destroy me and my family. I beg for forgiveness. Please show mercy!"
Kindama's expression softened momentarily, but the sorrow of his loss was too great. "The laws of dharma must take their course, O King," he said, his voice fading as life slipped from his body. "May this curse remind you and others of the sanctity of life and love. Farewell, Pandu."
With those words, Rishi Kindama's soul left his body, following his wife into the afterlife. The forest fell silent, save for the sound of Pandu's anguished cries as he collapsed to the ground, consumed by guilt and despair.
Pandu returned to his hermitage a broken man. He confided in Kunti and Madri, recounting the events of the hunt and the Rishi's curse. His voice was filled with despair as he lamented his fate:
"What kind of king am I, who cannot even uphold the laws of nature? I have brought shame upon myself, and now I am cursed to never fulfill my duties as a husband. I can no longer sire children, and the lineage of the Kuru dynasty may end because of my actions."
Kunti and Madri were devastated, but they offered Pandu comfort and solace. Kunti, ever wise and pragmatic, reminded him of the importance of atonement and dharma. She suggested that they dedicate themselves to spiritual pursuits and live a life of penance in the forest. Pandu agreed, relinquishing all his royal duties and embracing the life of an ascetic.
Years passed as Pandu, Kunti, and Madri adjusted to their new lives. They performed rigorous penance, seeking forgiveness for Pandu's transgression and hoping to alleviate the weight of the curse. Pandu spent his days immersed in meditation, renouncing all desires, while his queens supported him with unwavering devotion.
Despite their austere life, Pandu's heart was heavy with sorrow. He longed for an heir to continue the Kuru dynasty's legacy. One day, during a moment of vulnerability.
Pandu: (sitting under a tree, his face etched with sorrow) "Kunti, my heart is heavy. The thought of leaving the Kuru dynasty without an heir torments me. How will I face our ancestors in the afterlife, knowing I failed them? Is there truly no way to bring sons into our family without breaking the bounds of dharma?"
Kunti: (placing a comforting hand on his shoulder) "Arya, your pain weighs on my heart as well. You have always upheld dharma with unwavering resolve, and this burden is not yours alone to bear. There may be a way, one that was revealed to me long ago."
Pandu: (looking at her with curiosity and hope) "What do you mean, Kunti? If there is even a glimmer of hope, I must know. Speak, my dear."
Kunti: (pausing for a moment, then speaking softly) "Years ago, when I was still in my father's palace, I had the honor of serving the great Sage Durvasa. He was pleased with my devotion and granted me a boon—a sacred mantra. This mantra allows me to summon any deity and, through their blessings, bear a child imbued with their divine qualities."
Pandu: (eyes widening in astonishment) "A boon of such magnitude, Kunti? You never spoke of this before! Do you mean to say that we can bring sons into the Kuru lineage through divine intervention?"
Kunti: (nodding with a mix of hope and apprehension) "Yes, Arya. But I never imagined that such a gift would become necessary. The mantra was given with great responsibility, to be used only for dharmic purposes. If it is your wish, I will invoke it for the sake of our family and the Kuru dynasty."
As Kunti spoke these words, her mind was overwhelmed by memories of her firstborn son. She could still picture the child's radiant face, his golden earrings, and the divine armor that adorned him at birth. Her heart clenched as she remembered the day she placed him in the river, wrapped in a basket of hope and despair.
Her inner conflict churned within her. "How can I invoke this mantra again, knowing the price my firstborn paid? My son, my Karna... wherever you are, forgive your mother. Am I worthy of using this boon again, when I failed you? Can I truly call upon the gods once more, after abandoning their first blessing to me?"
The weight of her guilt made her hands tremble, but she kept her face composed, unwilling to reveal the storm raging within her.
Pandu: (grasping her hands, his voice trembling with emotion) "Kunti, you are truly a blessing in my life. This boon is no less than a miracle. Yet, I must ask—are you prepared to bear this burden? The path ahead will not be easy, for the world may question such an act, even if it is righteous."
Kunti: (meeting his gaze with determination, though her inner turmoil persisted) "Arya, as your wife, it is my duty to support you and preserve our lineage. Let the world say what it will, I am not afraid. If this boon can bring joy to your heart and fulfill our responsibility to the Kuru dynasty, then I am ready."
Pandu: (overwhelmed with gratitude) "Kunti, your strength humbles me. You are the very embodiment of dharma. If you are willing, then let us proceed with faith and reverence. May the gods bless us in this endeavor."
Kunti: (smiling softly, though her heart weighed heavily) "As you wish, Arya. I shall invoke the mantra with all my heart and soul, praying for the prosperity of our family and the guidance of the gods."
As their conversation ended, Pandu's heart swelled with hope. He rose to prepare for their prayer, leaving Kunti alone for a moment. She sat in silence, her hands clasped tightly together, her breath unsteady. The memories of Karna's departure haunted her, and her chest tightened as waves of guilt surged through her.
Her mind whispered cruelly, "What if this child, too, suffers as my firstborn did? What if the gods see me as unworthy and curse my future children?"
The weight of her thoughts made her feel suffocated. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and her hands began to tremble. Pandu, noticing her pale face and uneasy posture, quickly approached her.
Pandu: (concerned) "Kunti, what is it? You look distressed. Are you unwell?"
Kunti: (forcing a smile and shaking her head) "No, Arya, it's nothing. I am fine. Perhaps the weight of the moment has made me nervous, but I will be all right."
Pandu: (gently placing his hand on her shoulder) "Kunti, you have always stood strong, even in the face of trials. If there is anything troubling you, you can share it with me."
Kunti: (looking away to hide her tears) "Your trust is all I need, Arya. Let us move forward and fulfill our duty. That is what matters now."
Though Pandu nodded, reassured by her words, Kunti's heart remained heavy. She resolved to carry the burden of her inner conflict alone, determined not to let her past affect the future of her family.