Thud… thud… thud…
His feet hit the dusty ground with the weight of the truth he carried. Every step toward home felt heavier than the last. The bow slung across his shoulder whispered of victories, but inside, Karna's heart was a battlefield of guilt and silence.
The sky was beginning to darken, and the smell of cooking fires reached him. Birds screeched overhead as they returned to their nests. A dog barked somewhere far off.
Creak…
The old wooden gate of his home swung open as Karna stepped in. The house stood the same — low walls, a thatched roof, a small tulsi plant in the front. Familiar. Comforting.
But he didn't feel like the boy who had once run barefoot through these lanes.
"Karna?"
His mother's voice came soft, like a prayer escaping her lips.
He turned.
Radha stood at the doorway, oil lamp in hand. Her eyes welled up instantly. She dropped the lamp on the step ... clink! ...oil spilling like tears.
"My son… You're back!"
Before he could speak, she rushed forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He stood still. Stiff. His hands hovering awkwardly before finally resting on her shoulders.
She looked up, cupping his face. "So tall… What have those mountains fed you?" Her voice cracked with joy.
"I missed you, Amma," he murmured.
"You're thinner," she fussed, brushing hair from his forehead. "What kind of guru doesn't feed his students?"
Karna smiled faintly. "A great one."
"Come inside!" she insisted. "You must be starving. I've made tamarind rice and sweet porridge, just like when you were small."
Thwap! She patted his back lovingly and tugged him inside.
---
The house was simple, lit with a flickering flame. Karna sat cross-legged on the floor as Radha served him food. He ate quietly, the familiar taste bringing a knot to his throat.
"Appa?" he asked.
"At the stables. He'll be back soon." She hesitated. "He missed you more than he shows."
Karna nodded.
---
That night, after she had cleared the plates, Karna stepped outside and sat beneath the old neem tree in their yard. The wind rustled the leaves.
Swish… swish…
He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds — of crickets, distant flute music from a nearby house, the clinking of bangles as Radha moved inside.
But inside him, only silence.
"You lied to me, Karna."
Parashurama's voice rang like a slap.
"You said you were a Brahmin. You deceived your guru. And now, you are cursed."
Karna gripped the earth beneath him.
He had cried after that curse — not in front of his guru, but when he was alone, by a river, beneath the moon. The truth had finally caught him.
---
Creak…
The door opened softly.
Radha stepped out, a shawl draped over her arms.
"You haven't slept," she said gently.
"I'm not sleepy."
She sat beside him in silence for a while.
"Something's changed," she whispered.
Karna didn't respond.
"You don't laugh like you used to. You don't talk like the same boy I raised."
He swallowed. "People change, Amma."
She looked at him, her voice trembling. "Did someone hurt you?"
"No," he said quickly. Then added, softer, "Not really."
"Then why… why does your smile look like a lie?"
Karna turned away. "Because it is."
She froze.
"I did something," he confessed. "Something I had to do… to learn… to be someone."
She didn't speak.
"I lied, Amma," he said, voice shaking. "I told my guru I was a Brahmin. That was the only way he'd accept me."
Radha looked down. Her hands gripped her saree tightly.
"And now I'm cursed," he said. "The knowledge I worked for ... it might leave me when I need it most."
A long silence followed. Only the wind spoke, rustling the neem leaves.
"You lied," she finally said, "but you didn't do it to cheat or harm. You did it to survive. To rise."
Karna looked at her in disbelief.
"Your father and I...we always feared this day. That the world would never let you be more than a charioteer's son. But I see you now. You came back a warrior."
Karna's eyes filled with tears. He didn't cry.
"You were born for greatness, my son," she said. "Even the sun cannot hide you forever."
He leaned his head on her shoulder.
"I'm scared, Amma," he whispered. "Of what lies ahead."
She stroked his hair. "Then go. Face it. The world may call you a liar, but I know who you are."
---
That night, Karna stood alone once more, looking at the moon.
"Parashurama… even if I am cursed, I will master my fate. I will aim my arrows at the sky, even if they fall."
His eyes burned.
"No one will stop me. Not fate. Not birth. Not even the gods."