The Price of Silence, a King’s Torment, and the Secret of the Eighth Son
A Goddess’s heavy duty: Ganga stands in the sacred river, preparing to fulfill a divine destiny that no mortal heart could understand. (Image by Author / Generated with Gemini AI)
A Kingdom in Bloom
The marriage ceremony was the grandest event the kingdom had ever witnessed. All the neighboring kings, along with their entourages, graced the occasion. Hastinapur overflowed with joy, festivities, dance, and music. Shantanu and Ganga were so blissfully united that their happiness radiated to the common people. The entire kingdom was awash with celebration.
Ganga proved to be profoundly affectionate and kind as a queen. She was neither snobbish nor confined to an ivory tower. She remained accessible to her subjects, listened patiently to their grievances, and resolved them with compassion. Her sincerity and warmth endeared her to the masses.
Shantanu was content beyond measure. Ganga was not only a loving and attentive wife but also an able administrator. She offered wise counsel on matters of state, and Shantanu consulted her on all issues of governance.
The Shadow of Fear
Soon, to the immense relief of Shantanu and his people, Ganga conceived. Though he did not voice his fears, Shantanu worried that, like his parents, they too might struggle to produce an heir. The months passed, and Ganga remained tender and attentive to the child growing within her.
When the day arrived, Shantanu paced the halls restlessly, awaiting news of the birth. Ganga’s muffled cries pierced his heart. He loved her profoundly, and her pain left him agitated and helpless.
At last, when the cry of the newborn echoed through the chambers, Shantanu’s heart flooded with relief and joy. Moments later, the midwife entered, her expression uneasy. Impatiently, Shantanu asked, “Tell me — is it a boy or a girl? Do not hesitate. Either is a blessing from Lord Brahma.”
“O King,” she said, “you are blessed with a beautiful son. Both mother and child are healthy.”
Shantanu, overcome with joy, removed a gold chain from his neck and offered it to her. She did not accept it; instead, she wrung her hands anxiously. Alarm bells rang in his mind. Something was amiss.
He demanded, “What is wrong? Speak!”
The First Sacrifice
The midwife burst into tears. “The Queen took the baby and walked toward the riverbank. She was weak, and we tried to restrain her, but she warned us not to stop or follow her. She reminded us that when the King himself vowed not to question her, how could we dare to stand in her way?”
Shantanu raced toward the riverbank. From a distance, he saw her. By the time he reached the shore, he stood frozen in horror. Ganga waded into the river until the water reached her thighs, kissed the newborn tenderly, and set him afloat. She watched until the powerful currents swallowed the child, then turned back.
As she emerged from the river, she sensed Shantanu’s presence and looked up. He was struck by the total absence of remorse, grief, or sorrow on her face. She offered him the same half-smile she always wore when their paths crossed by chance.
It took Shantanu several moments to recover his senses. He neither questioned her nor demanded an explanation, let alone stopped her. To do so would mean losing her forever.
The people were stunned beyond words. They could not reconcile the act with the compassionate queen they adored. Yet, despising her seemed impossible. She continued to behave kindly, sympathetic to their needs. With Shantanu, she acted as though nothing had changed — until she conceived again.
The Cycle of Tragedy
The same horrifying incident repeated itself. Shantanu and the citizens sank deeper into despair and helplessness. Seven male infants were consigned to the river, and Ganga showed no visible grief. Once again, Shantanu waited with a heavy heart for the familiar cry of a newborn — and the inevitable tragedy that followed.
At that moment, Sage Narada entered the chambers, chanting, “Narayana, Narayana.” Shantanu rose, greeted the sage respectfully, and sought his blessings.
Narada said, “O King Shantanu, I was passing by and thought of visiting you. I must commend you. You will be remembered as the most devoted husband in history — one who allowed his wife to sacrifice seven children without uttering a single word of protest.”
Shantanu fell at the sage’s feet, tears welling in his eyes. “O revered sage, you do not know the torment I endure. My vow binds me. I am helpless.”
Contd…
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