The Irony of Mahabhrata

It was my Dad’s idea to name his son as Arjun. He wished that the name not convey an identity of N/S/E/W Indian-ness. There is a lot of pressure when you’re name is Arjun; not because of any demigod predecessor whose shoes are asking to filled in, but because of the unnecessary comparisons with the mythical character that your 3rd uncle pulls you into that you are expected to fulfill. Like shooting an arrow; or being fearless; or having Partha for a nickname.

My exposure to Mahabharata was grossly limited. Besides the episodes that played on Sunday mornings when I was 8 years old (remember that title song: yatha yatha hi dharmasya?) and the 3 verses that we read from the Bhagvadgita during school assembly, I never had the slightest inkling to look into the story of Mahabartha. Early one morning in 1998, the Sanskrit teacher announced that there would be a competition (some written exam) on the Ramayana and the Mahabhartha. One could choose which topic they wished to attempt. Now, this was an optional exam. When I saw nearly 80 percent of the class sign up in one or the other, I signed up too. You know that highly over rated thing called peer pressure. What was I thinking? You could have put on a fingernail the amount I knew about either of the epics. And since I was signing up for this examination, my teacher says “You are Arjuna! Neenu Mahabharata exam baribeku (You should write the Mahabharata exam).” Remember that unnecessary- comparisons-with-the-mythical-character-that-your-3rd uncle-pulls-you-into thing? Yes, exactly.

Long story short, I did not study for this exam (I mean, who in their right mind would have?). The exam was on a Sunday at 10 am. On the previous night, my Grandpa handed me his treasured copy of the Mahabharata yellow pages. I mean, not the Yellow Pages. I read the first 10 pages: the conversation between Valmiki and Ganesha. Call it the preface if you want.

In the paper the following morning, there were all kinds of questions: long ones, short ones, match the following, filling in the blanks – what difference did it make to Arjun? He saw stars in any case.

2 Weeks later: 17/100. I stood second from the bottom. I’m sure my mythical namesake is out hunting to shoot me down with his bow and arrow.