Thumbless

I look down, my hand is red and sticky all over. I can see my thumb is gone, but I can't feel it. In fact, I can't feel anything. My whole body is just, numb. A bloody piece of my own flesh is nestled in the palm of my other hand. My god, what have I done.

I look up.

"Well, I admire your dedication to me, I really do, but as you see, my talents lie best in the hands of the Kshatriyas. Sorry if that was too soon." Drona snickers before giving me a side wink.

"No, no, I understand, dear sir. My talent would be nonexistent with you.." I try to respond. I feel a thick lump in my throat as I am holding back tears. Before I can finish my sentence, Drona interjects with, "You fool! You think I, me, THE Guru Dronacharya, would ever teach, let alone associate myself with an ordinary dimwit as you! I only work for the divine or elite! I am designated for greatness! My entire adolescence was spent learning the military arts to escape poverty. To think I would ever waste a second of my time on a birdbrain such as you!" Drona shouted. I had no time to even process his words before he left me there.

I just stood there, for God knows how long. I was dumbfounded. I idolized this man. I thought he didn't teach me because he had too many students, not because of my wealth-or lack of. Everything is a lie. I taught myself in respect to him. I sliced my thumb for his honor. The one thing he got right is that I'm a fool. This entire time I thought I harnessed my talent because of him, but I didn't. It was me that spent hours shooting at marked trees, even when my arms ached. It was my resourceful nature that constructed bows and arrows out of mere stick and stones.

But alas, I am nothing now.

How do I look at my wife and children's faces knowing they eat the same, bland grain for three meals a day? My wife is a mere seamstress. There is no money in this trade. The only reason we are able to survive is the food I can catch. My God, what have I done?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I will fully admit that the first-perspective of Eklavya concept of this story is not completely mine but inspired by my fellow classmate. I have tried finding out who but have been unable to thus far. However, when I do, I will add a link to their story on my version. I don't remember where exactly it started and left off, but it was about Eklavya being betrayed. I think her story began before the thumb was cut off and led up until the events. My version starts after the thumb has been cut off to give more insight to how he feels after.

To me, Eklavya had one of the most tragic stories we have read so far. Not to get too controversial, but I wrote this story during the week of the celebrity college fraud scandals and felt this story signified these events: the wealthy getting what they want no matter the cost by taking away from the skilled poorer class.

Eklavya idolized Drona but because of his class he was unable to be taught by Drona. This did not stop Eklavya from admiring Drona. In fact, he taught himself archery to be worthy of Drona's appreciation. After many years when Eklavya has a chance to showcase his skills, Drona asks him to cut off his right thumb. Drona did not show an inkling of respect for Eklavya's perseverance to master a difficult skill or his loyalty. Rather, Drona was caught up in the unfair practices of the elite. I couldn't help but feel terrible for Drona, not just for the way his idol treated him, but how he was truly the best but made to sacrifice his skills so someone can be the best. Arjuna had the privilege of one of the most skilled private instructors and affluence to afford proper equipment yet he still was not "the best."

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

Title: Epified Mahabharata: Episode 17 Eklavya's Story