MAHABHARATA retold by C. Rajagopalachari
Compiled and edited for the Web by Jay Mazo, International Gita Society
NOTE:- This file has been made 'Read Only' to protect Copyright owners
15.
The Escape Of The Pandavas
35.
Mere Learning Is Not Enough
39.
The Wicked Are Never Satisfied
55.
Not A Needle-Point Of Territory
63.
Yudhishthira Seeks Benediction
76.
To Seize Yudhishthira Alive
104.
The Passing Away Of The Three
106.
Yudhishthira's Final Trial
IT
is not an exaggeration to say that the persons and incidents portrayed in the
great literature of a people influence national character no less potently than
the actual heroes and events enshrined in its history. It may be claimed that
the former play an even more important part in the formation of ideals, which
give to character its impulse of growth.
In
the moving history of our land, from time immemorial great minds have been
formed and nourished and touched to heroic deeds by the Ramayana and the
Mahabharata. In most Indian homes, children formerly learnt these immortal
stories as they learnt their mother tongue at the mother's knee. And the
sweetness and sorrows of Sita and Draupadi, the heroic fortitude of Rama and
Arjuna and the loving fidelity of Lakshmana and Hanuman became the stuff of
their young philosophy of life.
The
growing complexity of life has changed the simple pattern of early home life.
Still, there are few in our land who do not know the Ramayana and the
Mahabharata. Though the stories come to them so embroidered with the garish
fancies of the Kalakshepam (devotional meeting where an expert scholar and
singer tells a story to his audience) and the cinema as to retain but little of
the dignity and approach to truth of Vyasa or Valmiki. Vyasa's Mahabharata is one of our noblest
heritages. And it is my cherished belief that to hear it faithfully told is to
love it and come under its elevating influence. It strengthens the soul and
drives home, as nothing else does, the vanity of ambition and the evil and
futility of anger and hatred.
The
realities of life are idealised by genius and given the form that makes drama,
poetry or great prose. Since literature is closely related to life, so long as
the human family is divided into nations, literature cannot escape the effects
of such division.
But
the highest literature transcends regionalism and through it, when we are
properly attuned, we realise the essential oneness of the human family. The
Mahabharata is of this class. It belongs to the world and not only to India. To
the people of India, indeed, this epic has been an unfailing and perennial
source of spiritual strength. Learnt at the mother's knee with reverence and
love, it has inspired great men to heroic deeds as well as enabled the humble
to face their trials with fortitude and faith.
The
Mahabharata was composed many thousand years ago. But generations of gifted
reciters have added to Vyasa's original a great mass of material. All the
floating literature that was thought to be worth preserving, historical,
geographical, legendary political, theological and philosophical, of nearly
thirty centuries, found a place in it.
In
those days, when there was no printing, interpolation in a recognised classic
seemed to correspond to inclusion in the national library. Divested of these accretions, the Mahabharata
is a noble poem possessing in a supreme degree the characteristics of a true
epic, great and fateful movement, heroic characters and stately diction.
The
characters in the epic move with the vitality of real life. It is difficult to
find anywhere such vivid portraiture on so ample a canvas. Bhishma, the perfect
knight; the venerable Drona; the vain but chivalrous Karna; Duryodhana, whose
perverse pride is redeemed by great courage in adversity; the high souled
Pandavas with godlike strength as well as power of suffering; Draupadi, most
unfortunate of queens; Kunti, the worthy mother of heroes; Gandhari, the
devoted wife and sad mother of the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra, these are some
of the immortal figures on that crowded, but never confused, canvas.
Then
there is great Krishna himself, most energetic of men, whose divinity
scintillates through a cloud of very human characteristics. His high
purposefulness pervades the whole epic. One can read even a translation and
feel the over whelming power of the incomparable vastness and sublimity of the
poem.
The
Mahabharata discloses a rich civilisation and a highly evolved society, which
though of an older world, strangely resembles the India of our own time, with
the same values and ideals. India was divided into a number of independent
kingdoms.
Occasionally,
one king, more distinguished or ambitious than the rest, would assume the title
of emperor, securing the acquiescence of other royalties, and signalised it by
a great sacrificial feast. The adherence was generally voluntary. The
assumption of imperial title conferred no overlordship. The emperor was only
first among his peers.
The
art of war was highly developed and military prowess and skill were held in
high esteem. We read in the Mahabharata of standardised phalanxes and of
various tactical movements. There was an accepted code of honorable warfare,
deviations from which met with reproof among Kshatriyas. The advent of the Kali
age is marked by many breaches of these conventions in the Kurukshetra battle,
on account of the bitterness of conflict, frustration and bereavements. Some of
the most impressive passages in the epic center round these breaches of dharma.
The
population lived in cities and villages. The cities were the headquarters of
kings and their household and staff. There were beautiful palaces and gardens
and the lives led were cultured and luxurious. There was trade in the cities,
but the mass of the people were agriculturists.
Besides
this urban and rural life, there was a very highly cultured life in the
seclusion of forest recesses, centerd round ascetic teachers. These ashramas
kept alive the bright fires of learning and spiritual thought. Young men of
noble birth eagerly sought education at these ashramas. World-weary aged went
there for peace. These centers of culture were cherished by the rulers of the
land and not the proudest of them would dare to treat the members of the
hermitages otherwise than with respect and consideration.
Women
were highly honored and entered largely in the lives of their husbands and
sons. The caste system prevailed, but intercaste marriages were not unknown.
Some of the greatest warriors in the Mahabharata were brahmanas. The Mahabharata has moulded the character and
civilisation of one of the most numerous of the world's people.
How
did it fulfil, how is it still continuing to fulfil, this function? By its
gospel of dharma, which like a golden thread runs through all the complex
movements in the epic. By its lesson that hatred breeds hatred, that
covetousness and violence lead inevitably to ruin, that the only real conquest
is in the battle against one's lower nature.
BHAGAVAN
VYASA, the celebrated compiler of the Vedas, was the son of the great sage
Parasara. It was he who gave to the world the divine epic of the Mahabharata.
Having
conceived the Mahabharata he thought of the means of giving the sacred story to
the world. He meditated on Brahma, the Creator, who manifested himself before
him. Vyasa saluted him with bowed head and folded hands and prayed:
"Lord,
I have conceived an excellent work, but cannot think of one who can take it
down to my dictation."
Brahma
extolled Vyasa and said: "O sage, invoke Ganapati and beg him to be your
amanuensis." Having said these words he disappeared. The sage Vyasa
meditated on Ganapati who appeared before him. Vyasa received him with due
respect and sought his aid.
"Lord
Ganapati, I shall dictate the story of the Mahabharata and I pray you to be
graciously pleased to write it down."
Ganapati
replied: "Very well. I shall do as you wish. But my pen must not stop
while I am writing. So you must dictate without pause or hesitation. I can only
write on this condition?"
Vyasa
agreed, guarding himself, however, with a counter stipulation: "Be it so,
but you must first grasp the meaning of what I dictate before you write it
down."
Ganapati
smiled and agreed to the condition. Then the sage began to sing the story of
the Mahabharata. He would occasionally compose some complex stanzas which would
make Ganapati pause a while to get at the meaning and Vyasa would avail himself
of this interval to compose many stanzas in his mind. Thus the Mahabharata came
to be written by Ganapati to the dictation of Vyasa.
It
was before the days of printing, when the memory of the learned was the sole
repository of books. Vyasa first taught the great epic to his son, the sage
Suka. Later, he expounded it to many other disciples. Were it not so, the book
might have been lost to future generations.
Tradition
has it that Narada told the story of the Mahabharata to the devas while Suka
taught it to the Gandharvas, the Rakshasas and the Yakshas. It is well known
that the virtuous and learned Vaisampayana, one of the chief disciples of
Vyasa, revealed the epic for the benefit of humanity.
Janamejaya,
the son of the great King Parikshit, conducted a great sacrifice in the course
of which Vaisampayana narrated the story at the request of the former.
Afterwards, this story, as told by Vaisampayana, was recited by Suta in the
forest of Naimisa to an assembly of sages under the lead of the Rishi Saunaka.
Suta
addressed the assembly: "I had the good fortune to hear the story of the
Mahabharata composed by Vyasa to teach humanity dharma and the other ends of
life. I should like to narrate it to you." At these words the ascetics
eagerly gathered round him.
Suta
continued: "I heard the main story of the Mahabharata and the episodic
tales contained therein told by Vaisampayana at the sacrifice conducted by King
Janamejaya. Afterwards, I made an extensive pilgrimage to various sacred places
and also visited the battlefield where the great battle described in the epic
was fought. I have now come here to meet you all." He then proceeded to
tell the whole story of the Mahabharata in the grand assembly.
After
the death of the great King Santanu, Chitrangada became King of Hastinapura and
he was succeeded by Vichitravirya. The latter had two sons, Dhritarashtra and
Pandu. The elder of the two being born blind, Pandu, the younger brother,
ascended the throne. In the course of his reign, Pandu committed a certain
offence and had to resort to the forest with his two wives where he spent many
years in penance.
During
their stay in the forest, the two wives of Pandu, Kunti and Madri gave birth to
five sons who became well known as the five Pandavas. Pandu passed away while
they were still living in the forest. The sages brought up the five Pandavas
during their early years.
When
Yudhishthira, the eldest, attained the age of sixteen the rishis led them all
back to Hastinapura and entrusted them to the old grandsire Bhishma. In a short
time the Pandavas gained mastery over the Vedas and the Vedanta as well as over
the various arts, especially pertaining to the Kshatriyas. The Kauravas, the
sons of the blind Dhritarashtra, became jealous of the Pandavas and tried to
injure them in various ways.
Finally
Bhishma, the head of the family, intervened to bring about mutual understanding
and peace between them. Accordingly the Pandavas and the Kauravas began to rule
separately from their respective capitals, Indraprastha and Hastinapura.
Some
time later, there was a game of dice between the Kauravas and the Pandavas
according to the then prevailing Kshatriya code of honor. Sakuni, who played on
behalf of the Kauravas, defeated Yudhishthira. As a result, the Pandavas had to
be in exile for a period of thirteen years. They left the kingdom and went to
the forest with their devoted wife Draupadi.
According
to the conditions of the game, the Pandavas spent twelve years in the forest
and the thirteenth year incognito.
When
they returned and demanded of Duryodhana their paternal heritage, the latter,
who had in the meanwhile usurped their kingdom, refused to return it. War
followed as a consequence.
The
Pandavas defeated Duryodhana and regained their patrimony. The Pandavas ruled
the kingdom for thirty-six years. Afterwards, they transferred the crown to
their grandson, Parikshit, and repaired to the forest with Draupadi, all clad
humbly in barks of trees.
This
is the substance of the story of the Mahabharata. In this ancient and wonderful
epic of our land there are many illustrative tales and sublime teachings,
besides the narrative of the fortunes of the Pandavas.
The
Mahabharata is in fact a veritable ocean containing countless pearls and gems.
It is, with the Ramayana, a living fountain of the ethics and culture of our
Motherland.
"You
must certainly become my wife, whoever you may be." Thus said the great
King Santanu to the goddess Ganga who stood before him in human form,
intoxicating his senses with her superhuman loveliness.
The
king earnestly offered for her love his kingdom, his wealth, his all, his very
life.
Ganga
replied: "O king, I shall become your wife. But on certain conditions that
neither you nor anyone else should ever ask me who I am, or whence I come. You
must also not stand in the way of whatever I do, good or bad, nor must you ever
be wroth with me on any account whatsoever. You must not say anything displeasing
to me. If you act otherwise, I shall leave you then and there. Do you
agree?"
The
infatuated king vowed his assent, and she became his wife and lived with him.
The
heart of the king was captivated by her modesty and grace and the steady love
she bore him. King Santanu and Ganga lived a life of perfect happiness,
oblivious of the passage of time.
She
gave birth to many children; each newborn babe she took to the Ganges and cast
into the river, and then returned to the king with a smiling face.
Santanu
was filled with horror and anguish at such fiendish conduct, but suffered it
all in silence, mindful of the promise be had made. Often he wondered who she
was, wherefrom she had come and why she acted like a murderous witch. Still
bound by his word, and his all-mastering love for her, he uttered no word of
blame or remonstrance.
Thus
she killed seven children. When the eighth child was born and she was about to
throw it into the Ganges, Santanu could not bear it any longer.
He
cried: "Stop, stop, why are you bent on this horrid and unnatural murder
of your own innocent babes?" With this outburst the king restrained her.
"O
great king," she replied, "you have forgotten your promise, for your
heart is set on your child, and you do not need me any more. I go. I shall not
kill this child, but listen to my story before you judge me. I, who am
constrained to play this hateful role by the curse of Vasishtha, am the goddess
Ganga, adored of gods and men. Vasishtha cursed the eight Vasus to be born in
the world of men, and moved by their supplications said, I was to be their
mother. I bore them to you, and well is it for you that it was so. For you will
go to higher regions for this service you have done to the eight Vasus. I shall
bring up this last child of yours for some time and then return it to you as my
gift."
After
saying these words the goddess disappeared with the child. It was this child
who later became famous as Bhishma. This was how the Vasus came to incur
Vasishtha's curse. They went for a holiday with their wives to a mountain tract
where stood the hermitage of Vasishtha: One of them saw Vasishtha's cow,
Nandini, grazing there.
Its
divinely beautiful form attracted him and he pointed it out to the ladies. They
were all loud in praise of the graceful animal, and one of them requested her husband to secure it for her.
He
replied: "What need have we, the devas, for the milk of cows? This cow
belongs to the sage Vasishtha who is the master of the whole place. Man will
certainly become immortal by drinking its milk. But this is no gain to us, who
are already immortal. Is it worth our while incurring Vasishtha's wrath merely
to satisfy a whim?"
But
she was not thus to be put off. "I have a dear companion in the mortal
world. It is for her sake that I make this request. Before Vasishtha returns we
shall have escaped with the cow. You must certainly do this for my sake, for it
is my dearest wish." Finally her husband yielded. All the Vasus joined
together and took the cow and its calf away with them.
When
Vasishtha returned to his ashrama, he missed the cow and the calf, because they
were indispensable for his daily rituals.
Very
soon he came to know by his yogic insight all that had taken place. Anger
seized him and he uttered a curse against the Vasus. The sage, whose sole
wealth was his austerity, willed that they should be born into the world of
men. When the Vasus came to know of the curse, repentant too late, they threw
themselves on the sage's mercy and implored forgiveness.
Vasishtha
said: "The curse must needs take its course. Prabhasa, the Vasu who seized
the cow, will live long in the world in all glory, but the others will be freed
from the curse as soon as born. My words cannot prove ineffective, but I shall
soften the curse to this extent."
Afterwards,
Vasishtha set his mind again on his austerities, the effect of which had been
slightly impaired by his anger. Sages who perform austerities acquire the power
to curse, but every exercise of this power reduces their store of merit.
The
Vasus felt relieved and approached the goddess Ganga and begged of her:
"We pray you to become our mother. For our sake we beseech you to descend
to the earth and marry a worthy man. Throw us into the water as soon as we are
born and liberate us from the curse." The goddess granted their prayer,
came to the earth and became the wife of Santanu.
When the goddess Ganga left Santanu and
disappeared with the eighth child, the king gave up all sensual pleasures and
ruled the kingdom in a spirit of asceticism. One day he was wandering along the
banks of the Ganges when he saw a boy endowed with the beauty and form of
Devendra, the king of the gods.
The
child was amusing himself by casting a dam of arrows across the Ganges in
flood, playing with the mighty river as a child with an indulgent mother. To
the king who stood transfixed with amazement at the sight, the goddess Ganga
revealed herself and presented the child as his own son.
She
said: "O king, this is that eighth child I bore you. I have brought him up
till now. His name is Devavrata. He has
mastered the art of arms and equals Parasurama in prowess. He has learnt the
Vedas and the Vedanta from Vasishtha, and is well versed in the arts and
sciences known to Sukra. Take back with you this child who is a great archer
and hero as well as a master in statecraft."
Then
she blessed the boy, handed him to his father, the king, and disappeared.
WITH
joy the king received to his heart and his kingdom the resplendent and youthful
prince Devavrata and crowned him as the Yuvaraja, the heir apparent.
Four
years went by. One day as the king was wandering on the banks of the Yamuna,
the air was suddenly filled with a fragrance so divinely sweet that the king
sought for its cause, and he traced it to a maiden so lovely that she seemed a
goddess. A sage had conferred on her the boon that a divine perfume should
emanate from her, and this was now pervading the whole forest.
From
the moment the goddess Ganga left him, the king had kept his senses under
control, but the sight of this divinely beautiful maiden burst the bonds of
restraint and filled him with an overmastering desire. He asked her to be his
wife.
The
maiden said: "I am a fisherwoman, the daughter of the chief of the
fishermen. May it please you to ask him and get his consent." Her voice
was sweet as her form.
The
father was an astute man.
He
said: "O king, there is no doubt that this maiden, like every other, has
to be married to someone and you are indeed worthy of her. Still you have to
make a promise to me before you can have her."
Santanu
replied: "If it is a just promise I shall make it."
The
chief of the fisherfolk said: "The child born of this maiden should be the
king after you."
Though
almost mad with passion, the king could not make this promise, as it meant
setting aside the godlike Devavrata, the son of Ganga, who was entitled to the
crown.
It
was a price that could not be thought of without shame. He therefore returned
to his capital, Hastinapura, sick with baffled desire. He did not reveal the
matter to anyone and languished in silence.
One
day Devavrata asked his father: "My father, you have all that your heart
could wish. Why then are you so unhappy? How is it that you are like one pining
away with a secret sorrow?"
The
king replied: "Dear son, what you say is true. I am indeed tortured with
mental pain and anxiety. You are my only son and you are always preoccupied
with military ambitions. Life in the world is uncertain and wars are incessant.
If anything untoward befalls you our family will become extinct. Of course, you
are equal to a hundred sons. Still, those who are well read in the scriptures
say that in this transitory world having but one son is the same as having no
son at all. It is, not proper that the perpetuation of our family should depends
on a single life, and above all things I desire the perpetuation of our family.
This is the cause of my anguish." The father prevaricated, being ashamed
to reveal the whole story to his son.
Thewise
Devavrata realised that there must be a secret cause for the mental condition
of his father, and questioning the king's charioteer came to know of his
meeting with the fishermaiden on the banks of the Yamuna. He went to the chief
of the fishermen and besought his daughter's hand on his father's behalf.
The
fisherman was respectful, but firm: "My daughter is indeed fit to be the
king's spouse. Then should not her son become king? But you have been crowned
as the heir apparent and will naturally succeed your father. It is this that
stands in the way."
Devavrata
replied: "I give you my word that the son born of this maiden shall be
king. And I renounce in his favor my right as heir apparent," and he took
a vow to that effect.
The
chief of the fishermen said: "O best of the Bharata race, you have done
what no one else born of royal blood has you have done till now. You are indeed
a hero. You can yourself conduct my daughter to the king, your father. Still,
hear with patience these words of mine which I say as the father of the girl.
"I
have no doubt you will keep your word, but how can I hope that the children
born of you will renounce their birthright? Your sons will naturally be mighty
heroes like you, and will be hard to resist if they seek to seize the kingdom
by force. This is the doubt that torments me."
When
he heard this knotty question posed by the girl's father, Devavrata, who was
bent on fulfilling the king's desire, made his supreme renunciation. He vowed
with upraised arm to the father of the maiden: "I shall never marry and I
dedicate myself to a life of unbroken chastity."
And
as he uttered these words of renunciation the gods showered flowers on his
head, and cries of "Bhishma," "Bhishma" resounded in the
air. "Bhishma" means one who undertakes a terrible vow and fulfils
it. That name became the celebrated epithet of Devavrata from that time. Then
the son of Ganga led the maiden Satyavati to his father.
Two
sons were born of Satyavati to Santanu, Chitrangada and Vichitravirya, who
ascended the throne one after the other. Vichitravirya had two sons,
Dhritarashtra and Pandu, born respectively of his two queens, Ambika and
Ambalika.
The
sons of Dhritarashtra, a hundred in number, were known as the Kauravas. Pandu
had five sons who became famous as the Pandavas. Bhishma lived long, honored by
all as the grandsire until the end of the famous battle of Kurukshetra.
The
Family Tree
Santanu
(by
Ganga) (by Satyavati)
Bhishma Chitrangada&Vichitravirya
(by Ambika) (by Ambalika)
Dhtitarashtra Pandu
↓ ↓
The
Kauravas The Pandavas
CHITRANGADA,
the son of Satyavati, was killed in battle with a Gandharva. As he died
childless, his brother, Vichitravirya, was the rightful heir and was duly
crowned king. And as he was a minor, Bhishma governed the kingdom in his name
till be came of age.
When
Vichitravirya reached adolescence Bhishma cast about for a bride for him. And
as he heard that the daughters of the king of Kasi were to choose theirhusbands
according to the ancient Kshatriya practice he went there to secure them for
his brother.
The
rulers of Kosla, Vanga, Pundra, Kalinga and other princes and potentates had
also repaired to Kasi for the swayamvara, attired in their best. The princesses
were so far-famed for beauty and accomplishments that there was fierce
competition to win them.
Bhishma
was famous among the Kshatriyas as a mighty man-at-arms. At first everyone
thought that the redoubtable hero had come merely to witness the festivities of
the swayamvara. But when they found that he was also a suitor, the young
princes felt themselves let down and were full of chagrin. They did not know
that he had really come for the sake of his brother, Vichitravirya.
The
princes began to cast affronts at Bhishma: "This most excellent and wise
descendant of the Bharata race forgets that he is too old and forgets also his
vow of celibacy. What has this old man to do with this swayamvara? Fie on
him!" The princesses who were to choose their husbands barely glanced at
the old man and looked away.
Bhishma's
wrath flamed up. He challenged the assembled princes to a trial of their
manhood and defeated them all. And taking the three princesses in his chariot
he set out for Hastinapura.
But
before he had gone far, Salva, the king of the Saubala country who was attached
to Amba, intercepted and opposed him. For that princess had mentally chosen
Salva as her husband. After a bitter fight Salva was worsted, and no wonder, as
Bhishma was a peerless bowman. But at the request of the princesses Bhishma
spared his life.
Arriving
in Hastinapura with the princesses, Bhishma made preparations for their marriage
to Vichitravirya. When all were assembled for the marriage, Amba smiled
mockingly at Bhishma and addressed him as follows: "O son of Ganga, you
are aware of what is enjoined in the scriptures. I have mentally chosen Salva,
the king of Saubala, as my husband. You have brought me here by force. Knowing
this, do what you, learned in the scriptures, should do."
Bhishma
admitted the force of her objection and sent her to Salva with proper escort.
The marriage of Ambika and Ambalika, the two younger sisters, with
Vichitravirya was duly solemnised.
Amba
went rejoicing to Salva and told him what had happened: "I have mentally
chosen you as my husband from the very start. Bhishma has sent me to you. Marry
me according to the sastras."
Salva
replied: "Bhishma defeated me in sight of all, and carried you away. I
have been disgraced. So, I cannot receive you now as my wife. Return to him and
do as he commands." With these words Salva sent her back to Bhishma.
She
returned to Hastinapura and told Bhishma of what had taken place. The grandsire
tried to induce Vichitravirya to marry her. But Vichitravirya roundly refused
to marry a maiden whose heart had already been given to another.
Amba
then turned to Bhishma and she sought him to marry her himself as there was no
other recourse. It was impossible for Bhishma to break his vow, sorry as he was
for Amba. And after some vain attempts to make Vichitravirya change his mind,
he told her there was no way left to her but to go again to Salva and seek to
persuade him.
This
at first she was too proud to do, and for long years she abode in Hastinapura.
Finally, in sheer desperation, she went to Salva and found him adamant in
refusal.
The
lotus-eyed Amba spent six bitter years in sorrow and baffled hope. And her
heart was seared with suffering and all the sweetness in her turned to gall and
fierce hatred towards Bhishma as the cause of her blighted life.
She
sought in vain for a champion among the princes to fight and kill Bhishma and
thus avenge her wrongs but even the foremost warriors were afraid of Bhishma
and paid no heed to her appeal.
At
last, she resorted to hard austerities to get the grace of Lord Subrahmanya. He
graciously appeared before her and gave her a garland of ever-fresh lotuses,
saying that the wearer of that garland would become the enemy of Bhishma.
Amba
took the garland and again be sought every Kshatriya to accept the garland gift
of the six-faced Lord and to champion her cause. But no one had the hardihood
to antagonise Bhishma.
Finally,
she went to King Drupada who also refused to grant her prayer. She then hung
the garland at Drupada's palace gate and went away to the forest. Some ascetics
whom she met there and to whom she told her sorrowful tale advised her to go to
Parasurama as a suppliant. She followed their advice.
On
hearing her sad story, Parasurama was moved with compassion and said:
"Dear child, what do you want? I can ask Salva to marry you if you wish
it."
Amba
said: "No, I do not wish it. I no longer desire marriage or home or
happiness. There is now but one thing in life for me, revenge on Bhishma. The
only boon I seek is the death of Bhishma."
Parasurama
moved as much by her anguish as by his abiding hatred of the Kshatriya race,
espoused her cause and fought with Bhishma. It was a long and equal combat
between the two greatest men-at-arms of the age. But in the end Parasurama had
to acknowledge defeat. He told Amba: "I have done all that I could and I
have failed. Throw yourself on the mercy of Bhishma. That is the only course
left to you."
Consumed
with grief and rage, and kept alive only by the passion for revenge, Amba went
to the Himalayas and practised rigorous austerities to get the grace of Siva,
now that all human aid had failed her. Siva appeared before her and granted her
a boon, that in her next birth she would slay Bhishma.
Amba
was impatient for that rebirth which would give her heart's desire. She made a
pyre and plunged into the fire pouring out the flame in her heart into the
scarcely hotter blaze of the pyre.
By
the grace of Lord Siva, Amba was born as the daughter of King Drupada. A few
years after her birth, she saw the garland of never-fading flowers that still
hung at the palace gate and had remained there untouched by anyone through
fear. She put it round her neck. Her father Drupada was in consternation at her
temerity which he feared would draw on his head the wrath of Bhishma.
He
sent his daughter in exile out of the capital to the forest. She practised
austerities in the forest and in time was transformed into a male and became
known as the warrior Sikhandin.
With
Sikhandin as his charioteer, Arjuna attacked Bhishma on the battlefield of
Kurukshetra. Bhishma knew that Sikhandin was born as female, and true to his
code of chivalry he would not fight him under any circumstance.
So
it was that Arjuna could fight screened by Sikhandin and conquer Bhishma,
especially because Bhishma knew that his long and weary probation on earth was
finished and consented to be vanquished.
As
the arrows struck Bhishma in his last fight, he singled out those which had
pierced him deepest and said: "This is Arjuna's arrow and not
Sikhandin's." So fell this great warrior.
IN
ancient times, there was a bitter struggle between the devas or gods and the
asuras or demons for the lordship of the three worlds. Both belligerents had
illustrious preceptors. Brihaspati who was pre-eminent in the knowledge of the
Vedas was the guiding spirit of the devas, while the asuras relied on
Sukracharya's profound wisdom.
The
asuras had the formidable advantage that Sukracharya alone possessed the secret
of Sanjivini which could recall the dead to life. Thus the asuras who had
fallen in the battle were brought back to life, time and again, and continued
their fight with the devas. The devas were thus at a great disadvantage in
their long drawn-out war with their natural foes.
They
went to Kacha, the son of Brihaspati, and besought his aid. They begged him to
win his way into the good graces of Sukracharya and persuade him to take him as
a pupil. Once admitted to intimacy and confidence, he was to acquire, by fair
means or foul, the secret of Sanjivini and remove the great handicap under
which the devas suffered.
Kacha
acceded to their request and set out to meet Sukracharya who lived in the
capital city of Vrishaparva, the king of the asuras. Kacha went to the house of
Sukra, and after due salutation, addressed him thus: "I am Kacha, the
grandson of the sage Angiras and the son of Brihaspati. I am a brahmacharin
seeking knowledge under your tutelage."
It
was the law that the wise teacher should not refuse a worthy pupil who sought
knowledge of him. So Sukra acceded and said: "Kacha, you belong to a good
family. I accept you as my pupil, the more willingly, that by doing so I shall
also be showing my respect for Brihaspati."
Kacha
spent many years under Sukracharya, rendering to perfection the prescribed
duties in the household of his master. Sukracharya had a lovelydaughter,
Devayani, of whom he was extremely fond. Kacha devoted himself to pleasing and
serving her with song and dance and pastime and succeeded in winning her
affection, without detriment however to the vows of brahmacharya.
When
the asuras came to know of this, they became anxious as they suspected that
Kacha's object was somehow to wheedle out of Sukracharya the secret of
Sanjivini. They naturally sought to prevent such a calamity.
One
day, as Kacha was engaged in grazing the cattle of his master the asuras seized
him, tore him to pieces and cast his flesh to the dogs. When the cattle
returned without Kacha, Devayani was filled with anxiety, and ran to her father
with loud lamentations: "The sun has set," she wailed, "and your
nightly fire sacrifice has been performed; still Kacha has not returned home.
The cattle have come back by themselves. I fear some mishap has befallen Kacha.
I cannot live without him."
The
fond father employed the art of Sanjivini and invoked the dead youth to appear.
At once Kacha came back to life and greeted the master with smiles. Asked by
Devayani the reason for his delay, he told her that as he was grazing the
cattle the asuras came suddenly on him and slew him. How he came back to life
he knew not, but come back to life he did, and there he was.
On
another occasion Kacha went to the forest to pluck flowers for Devayani, and
again the asuras seized and killed him, and pounding his body to a paste, mixed
it up in sea-water. As he did not return even after a long time Devayani went
as before to her father who brought Kacha back to life by his Sanjivini, and
heard from him all that had taken place.
For
the third time again, the Asuras killed Kacha and very cleverly as they
thought, burnt his body, mixed the ashes in wine and served it to Sukracharya
who drank it, suspecting nothing. Once more the cows returned home without
their keeper, and once again Devayani approached her father with her
distressful appeal for Kacha.
Sukracharya
tried in vain to console his daughter. "Though I have again and again
brought back Kacha to life," said he, "the asuras seem bent upon
killing him. Well, death is the common lot, and it is not proper for a wise
soul like you to sorrow at it. Your life is all before you to enjoy, with youth
and beauty and the goodwill of the world."
Devayani
deeply loved Kacha, and since the world began, wise words have never cured the
ache of bereavement. She said: "Kacha, the grandson of Angiras and the son
of Brihaspati, was a blameless boy, who was devoted and tireless in our
service. I loved him dearly, and now that he has been killed, life to me has
become bleak and insupportable. I shall therefore follow in his path." And
Devayani began to fast. Sukracharya, heart-stricken by his daughter's sorrow,
became very angry with the asuras, and felt that the heinous sin of killing a
brahmana would weigh heavily on their fortunes.
He
employed the Sanjivini art and called upon Kacha to appear. By the power of the
Sanjivini Kacha dispersed as he was in the wine which was inside Sukracharya's
body at the time, regained life, but prevented by the peculiarity of his
location from coming out, he could only answer to his name from where he was.
Sukracharya
exclaimed in angry amazement: "O brahmacharin, how did you get into me? Is
this also the work of the asuras? This is really too bad and makes me feel like
killing the asuras immediately and joining the devas. But tell me the whole
story."
Kacha
narrated it all, in spite of the inconvenience imposed by his position.
Vaisampayana
continued: "The high-souled and austere Sukracharya of immeasurable
greatness, became angry at the deceit practised on him in his wine, and
proclaimed for the benefit of humanity: 'Virtue will desert the man who through
lack of wisdom drinks wine. He will be an object of scorn to all, This is my
message to humanity, which should be regarded as an imperative scriptural
injunction.' Then he turned to his daughter Devayani and said: Dear daughter,
here is a problem for you. For Kacha to live, he must rend my stomach and come
out of it, and that means death to me. His life can only be bought by my
death."
Devayani
began to weep and said: "Alas! It is death to me either way. For if either
of you perish, I shall not survive." Sukracharya sought a way out of the
difficulty. The real explanation of it all flashed on him.
He said to Kacha: "O son of Brihaspati, I
now see with what object you came and verily you have secured it! I must bring
you out to life for the sake of Devayani, but equally for her sake I must not
die either. The only way is to initiate you in the art of Sanjivini so that you
can bring me back to life after I shall have died when a way is torn out
through my entrails for you. You should employ the knowledge I am going to impart
to you and revive me, so that Devayani need not grieve for either of us."
Accordingly
Sukracharya imparted the art of Sanjivini to Kacha. Immediately Kacha came
forth from Sukracharya's body, emerging like the full moon from a cloud, while
the great preceptor fell down mangled and dead.
But
Kacha at once brought Sukracharya back to life by means of his newly acquired
Sanjivini. Kacha bowed down to Sukracharya and said: "The teacher who
imparts wisdom to the ignorant is a father. Besides, as I have issued from your
body you are my mother too."
Kacha
remained for many more years under the tutelage of Sukracharya. When the period
of his vow ended, he took leave of his master to return to the world of the
gods.
As
he was about to depart Devayani humbly addressed him thus: "O, grandchild
of Angiras, you have won my heart by your blameless life, your great
attainments and nobility of birth. I have loved you long and tenderly, even
while you were faithfully following your vows of a brahmacharin. You should now
reciprocate my love and make me happy by marrying me. Brihaspati as well as
yourself are fully worthy of being honored by me. "
In
those days, it was no uncommon thing for wise and learned brahmana ladies to
speak out their mind with honorable frankness. But Kacha said:
"O
faultless one, you are my master's daughter and ever worthy of my respect. I
got back my life by being born out of your father's body. Hence I am your
brother. It is not proper for you, my sister, to ask me to wed you."
Devayani
sought in vain to persuade him. "You are the son of Brihaspati," said
she, "and not of my father. If I have been the cause of your coming back
to life, it was because I loved you as indeed I have always loved you as my
husband. It is not fit that you should give up one like me sinless and devoted
to you."
Kacha
replied: "Do not seek to persuade me to unrighteousness. You are
enchanting more so now than ever, flushed as you are with anger. But I am your
brother. Pray bid me adieu. Serve unto perfection, ever and always, my master
Sukracharya."
With these words Kacha gently disengaged
himself and proceeded to the abode of Indra, the king of gods. Sukracharya
consoled his daughter.
ONE warm afternoon, pleasantly tired with
sporting in the woods Devayani and the daughters of Vrishaparva, king of the
asuras, went to bathe in the cool waters of a sylvan pool, depositing their
garlands on the bank before they entered its waters.
A strong breeze blew their clothes together
into a huddled heap and when they came to take them up again, some mistakes
naturally occurred. It so happened that princess Sarmishtha, the daughter of
the king, clad herself in Devayani's clothes. The latter was vexed and
exclaimed half in jest at the impropriety of the daughter of a disciple wearing
the clothes of the master's daughter.
These words were spoken half in jest, but the
princess Sarmishtha became very angry and said arrogantly: "Do you not
know that your father humbly bows in reverence to my royal father every day?
Are you not the daughter of a beggar who lives on my father's bounty? You
forget I am of the royal race which proudly gives, while you come of a race
which begs and receives, and you dare to speak thus to me."
Sarmishtha went on, getting angrier and angrier
as she spoke till, working herself up into a fit of anger, she finally slapped
Devayani on the cheek and pushed her into a dry well. The asura maidens thought
that Devayani had lost her life and returned to the palace.
Devayani had not been killed by the fall into
the well but was in a sad plight because she could not climb up the steep
sides. Emperor Yayati of the Bharata race who was hunting in the forest by a
happy chance came to this spot in search of water to slake his thirst. When he
glanced into the well, he saw something bright, and looking closer, he was
surprised to find a beautiful maiden lying in the well.
He asked: "Who are you, O beautiful maiden
with bright earrings and ruddy nails? Who is your father? What is your
ancestry? How did you fall into the well?"
She replied: "I am the daughter of Sukracharya. He does not know
that I have fallen into the well. Lift me up" and she held forth her
hands. Yayati seized her hand and helped her out of the well.
Devayani did not wish to return to the capital
of the king of the asuras. She did not feel it safe to go there, as she
pondered again and again on Sarmishtha's conduct. She told Yayati: "You
have held a maiden by her right hand, and you must marry her. I feel that you
are in every way worthy to be my husband."
Yayati replied: "Loving soul, I am a
kshatriya and you are a brahmana maiden. How can I marry you? How can the
daughter of Sukracharya, who is worthy to be the preceptor of the whole world,
submit to be the wife of a kshatriya like myself? Revered lady, return
home." Having said these words Yayati went back to his capital.
A kshatriya maiden could marry a brahmana,
according to the ancient tradition, but it was considered wrong for a brahmana
maiden to marry a kshatriya. The important thing was to keep the racial status
of women unlowered. Hence anuloma or the practice of marrying men of higher
castes was legitimate and the reverse practice, known as pratiloma, i.e.
marrying men of a lower caste, was prohibited by the sastras.
Devayani had no mind to return home. She
remained sunk in sorrow in the shade of a tree in forest. Sukracharya loved
Devayani more than his life. After waiting long in vain for the return of his
daughter who had gone to play with her companions, he sent a woman in search of
her.
The messenger after a weary search came on her
at last near the tree where she was sitting in dejection, her eyes red with
anger and grief. And she asked her what had happened.
Devayani said: "Friend, go at once and
tell my father that I will not set my foot in the capital of Vrishaparva"
and she sent her back to Sukracharya.
Extremely grieved at the sad plight of his
daughter Sukracharya hurried to her.
Caressing her, he said: "It is by their
own actions, good or bad, that men are happy or miserable. The virtues or vices
of others will not affect us in the least." With these words of wisdom, he
tried to console her.
She replied in sorrow and anger: "Father,
leave alone my merits and faults, which are after all my own concern. But tell
me this, was Sarmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparva, right when she told me
you were but a minstrel singing the praises of kings? She called me the
daughter of a mendicant living on the doles won by flattery. Not content with
this arrogant contumely, she slapped me and threw me into a pit which was
nearby. I cannot stay in any place within her father's territory." And
Devayani began to weep.
Sukracharya drew himself up proudly:
"Devayani," he said with dignity, "you are not the daughter of a
court minstrel. Your father does not live on the wages of flattery. You are the
daughter of one who is reverenced by all the world. Indra, the king of the
gods, knows this, and Vrishaparva is not ignorant of his debt to me. But no
worthy man extols his own merits, and I shall say no more about myself. Arise,
you are a peerless gem among women, bringing prosperity to your family. Be
patient. Let us go home."
In this context Bhagavan Vyasa advises humanity
in general in the following words of counsel addressed by Sukracharya to his
daughter:
"He conquers the world, who patiently puts
up with the abuse of his neighbors. He who, controls his anger, as a horseman
breaks an unruly horse, is indeed a charioteer and not he who merely holds the
reins, but lets the horse go whither it would. He who sheds his anger just as a
snake its slough, is a real hero. He who is not moved despite the greatest
torments inflicted by others, will realise his aim. He who never gets angry is
superior to the ritualist who faith fully performs for a hundred years the
sacrifices ordained by scripture. Servants, friends, brothers, wife, children,
virtue and truth abandon the man who gives way to anger. The wise will not take
to heart the words of boys and girls."
Devayani humbly told her father: "I am
indeed a little girl, but, I hope, not too young to benefit by the great truth
taught by you. Yet, it is not proper to live with persons who have no sense of
decency or decorum. The wise will not keep company with those who speak ill of
their family. However rich they may be, the ill-mannered are really the
veritable chandalas outside the pale of caste. The virtuous should not mix with
them. My mind is ablaze with the anger roused by the taunts of Vrishaparva's
daughter. The wounds inflicted by weapons may close in time; scalds may heal
gradually; but wounds inflicted by words remain painful as long as one
lives."
Sukracharya went to Vrishaparva and fixing his
eyes on him gravely said:
"O king, though one's sins may not bring
immediate punishment they are sure, sooner or later, to destroy the very germ
of prosperity. Kacha, the son of Brihaspati, was a brahmacharin who had
conquered his senses and never committed any sin. He served me with fidelity
and never strayed from the path of virtue. Your attendants tried to kill him. I
bore it. My daughter, who holds her honor high, had to hear dishonoring words
uttered by your daughter. Besides, she was pushed into a well by your daughter.
She cannot any more stay in your kingdom. Without her I cannot live here
either. So, I am going out of your kingdom."
At these words the king of the asuras was
sorely troubled and said: "I am ignorant of the charges laid at my door.
If you abandon me, I shall enter fire and die."
Sukracharya replied: "I care more for the
happiness of my daughter than for the fate of you and your asuras, for she is
the one thing I have and dearer to me than life itself. If you can appease her,
it is well and good. Otherwise I go."
Vrishaparva and his retinue went to the tree
under which Devayani stood and they threw themselves at her feet in
supplication.
Devayani was stubborn and said:
"Sarmishtha who told me that I was the daughter of a beggar, should become
my handmaiden and attend on me in the house into which my father gives me in
marriage."
Vrishaparva consented and asked his attendants
to fetch his daughter Sarmishtha.
Sarmishtha admitted her fault and bowed in
submission. She said: "Let it be as my companion Devayani desires. My
father shall not lose his preceptor for a fault committed by me. I will be her
attendant," Devayani was pacified and returned to her house with her
father.
On another occasion also Devayani came across
Yayati. She repeated her request that he should take her as his wife since he had
clasped her right hand. Yayati again repeated his objection that he, a
kshatriya, could not lawfully marry a brahmana.
Finally they both went to Sukracharya and got
his assent to their marriage. This is an instance of the pratiloma marriage
which was resorted to on exceptional occasions. The sastras, no doubt,
prescribe what is right and forbid what is wrong but a marriage once effected
cannot be made invalid.
Yayati and Devayani spent many days in
happiness. Sarmishtha remained with her as an attendant. One day Sarmishtha met
Yayati in secret and earnestly prayed to betaken also as his wife. He yielded
to her prayer and married her without the knowledge of Devayani.
But Devayani came to know of it and was
naturally very angry, She complained to her father and Sukracharya in his rage
cursed Yayati with premature old age.
Yayati, thus suddenly stricken with age in the
very prime of his manhood, begged so humbly for forgiveness that Sukracharya,
who had not forgotten Devayani's rescue from the well, at last relented.
He said: "O king, you have lost the glory
which is youth. The curse cannot be recalled, but if you can persuade anyone to
exchange his youth for your age the exchange will take effect." Thus he
blessed Yayati and bade him farewell.
EMPEROR Yayati was one of the ancestors of the
Pandavas. He had never known defeat. He followed the dictates of the sastras,
adored the gods and venerated his ancestors with intense devotion. He became
famous as a ruler devoted to the welfare of his subjects.
But as has already been told, he became
prematurely old by the curse of Sukracharya for having wronged his wife
Devayani. In the words of the poet of the Mahabharata:
"Yayati attained that old age which
destroys beauty and brings on miseries." It is needless to describe the
misery of youth suddenly blighted into age, where the horrors of loss are
accentuated by pangs of recollection.
Yayati, who found himself suddenly an old man,
was still haunted by the desire for sensual enjoyment. He had five beautiful
sons, all virtuous and accomplished. Yayati called them and appealed piteously
to their affection:
"The curse of your grandfather Sukracharya
has made me unexpectedly and prematurely old. I have not had my fill of the
joys of life. For, not knowing what was in store for me I lived a life of
restraint, denying myself even lawful pleasures. One of you ought to bear the
burden of my old age and give his youth in return. He who agrees to this and
bestows his youth on me will be the ruler of my kingdom. I desire to enjoy life
in the full vigor of youth."
He first asked his eldest son. That son
replied: "O great king, women and servants will mock at me if I were to
take upon myself your old age. I cannot do go. Ask of my younger brothers who
are dearer to you than myself."
When the second son was approached, he gently
refused with the words: "Father, you ask me to take up old age that
destroys not only strength and beauty but also as I see wisdom. I am not strong
enough to do so."
The third son replied: "An old man cannot
ride a horse or an elephant. His speech will falter. What can I do in such a
helpless plight? I cannot agree."
The king was angry and disappointed that his
three sons had declined to do as he wished, but he hoped for better from his
fourth son, to whom he said: "You should take up my old age. If you
exchange your youth with me, I shall give it back to you after some time and
take back the old age with which I have been cursed."
The fourth son begged to be forgiven as this
was a thing he could by no means consent to. An old man had to seek the help of
others even to keep his body clean, a most pitiful plight. No, much as he loved
his father he could not do it.
Yayati was struck with sorrow at the refusal of
the four sons. Still, hoping against hope, he supplicated his last son who had
never yet opposed his wishes: "You must save me. I am afflicted with this
old age with its wrinkles, debility and grey hairs as a result of the curse of
Sukracharya. It is too hard a trial! If you will take upon yourself these
infirmities, I shall enjoy life for just a while more and then give you back
your youth and resume my old age and all its sorrows. Pray, do not refuse as
your elder brothers have done."
Puru, the youngest son, moved by filial love,
said: "Father, I gladly give you my youth and relieve you of the sorrows
of old age and cares of state. Be happy."
Hearing these words Yayati embraced him. As
soon as he touched his son, Yayati became a youth. Puru, who accepted the old
age of his father, ruled the kingdom and acquired great renown. Yayati enjoyed
life for long, and not satisfied, went later to the garden of Kubera and spent
many years with an Apsara maiden.
After long years spent in vain efforts to
quench desire by indulgence, the truth dawned on him.
Returning to Puru, he said: "Dear son,
sensual desire is never quenched by indulgence any more than fire is by pouring
ghee in it. I had heard and read this, but till now I had not realised it. No
object of desire, corn, gold, cattle or women, nothing can ever satisfy the
desire of man, We can reach peace only by a mental poise beyond likes and
dislikes. Such is the state of Brahman. Take back your youth and rule the
kingdom wisely and well."
With these words Yayati took his old age. Puru,
who regained his youth, was made king by Yayati who retired to the forest. He
spent his time there in austerities and, in due course, attained heaven.
THE sage Mandavya who had acquired strength of
mind and knowledge of the scriptures, spent his days in penance and the
practice of truth.
He lived in a hermitage in the forests on the outskirts of
the city. One day while he was immersed in silent contemplation under the shade
of a tree outside his hut of leaves, a band of robbers fled through the woods
with officers of the king in hot pursuit.
The fugitives entered the ashrama thinking that
it would be a convenient place to hide themselves in. They placed their booty
in a corner and hid themselves. The soldiers of the king came to the ashrama
tracking their footsteps.
The commander of the soldiers asked Mandavya,
who was rapt in deep meditation in a tone of peremptory command: "Did you
see the robbers pass by? Where did they go? Reply at once so that we may give
chase and capture them."
The sage, who was absorbed in yoga, remained
silent. The commander repeated the question insolently. But the sage did not hear anything. In the
meantime some of the attendants entered the ashrama and discovered the stolen
goods lying there.
They reported this to their commander. All of
them went in and found the stolen goods and the robbers who were in hiding.
The commander thought: "Now I know the
reason why the brahmana pretended to be a silent sage. He is indeed the chief
of these robbers. He has inspired this robbery." Then he ordered his
soldiers to guard the place, went to the king and told him that the sage
Mandavya had been caught with the stolen goods.
The king was very angry at the audacity of the
chief of the robbers who had put on the garb of a brahmana sage, the better to
deceive the world. Without pausing to verify the facts, he ordered the wicked
criminal, as he thought him, to be impaled.
The commander returned to the hermitage,
impaled Mandavya on a spear and handed over the stolen things to the king.
The virtuous sage, though impaled on the spear,
did not die. Since he was in yoga when he was impaled he remained alive by the
power of yoga. Sages who lived in other parts of the forest came to his
hermitage and asked Mandavya how he came to be in that terrible pass.
Mandavya replied: "Whom shall I blame? The
servants of the king, who protect the world, have inflicted this
punishment."
The king was surprised and frightened when he
heard that the impaled sage was still alive and that he was surrounded by the
other sages of the forest. He hastened to the forest with his attendants and at
once ordered the sage to be taken down from the spear. Then he prostrated at
his feet and prayed humbly to be forgiven for the offence unwittingly
committed.
Mandavya was not angry with the king. He went
straight to Dharma, the divine dispenser of justice, who was seated on his
throne, and asked him: "What crime have I committed to deserve this
torture?"
Lord Dharma, who knew the great power of the
sage, replied in all humility: "O sage, you have tortured birds and bees.
Are you not aware that all deeds, good or bad, however small, inevitably
produce their results, good or evil?"
Mandavya was surprised at this reply of Lord
Dharma and asked: "When did I commit this offence?"
Lord Dharma replied: "When you were a child."
Mandavya then pronounced a curse on Dharma:
"This punishment you have decreed is far in excess of the deserts of a
mistake committed by a child in ignorance. Be born, therefore, as a mortal in
the world."
Lord Dharma who was thus cursed by the sage
Mandavya incarnated as Vidura and was born of the servant-maid of Ambalika, the
wife of Vichitravirya.
This story is intended to show that Vidura was
the incarnation of Dharma. The great men of the world regarded Vidura as a
mahatma who was unparalleled in his knowledge of dharma, sastras and
statesmanship and was totally devoid of attachment and anger. Bhishma appointed
him, while he was still in his teens, as the chief counsellor of king
Dhritarashtra.
Vyasa has it that no one in the three worlds
could equal Vidura in virtue and knowledge. When Dhritarashtra gave his,
permission for the game of dice, Vidura fell at his feet and protested
solemnly: "O king and lord, I cannot approve of this action. Strife will
set in among your sons as a result. Pray, do not allow this."
Dhritarashtra also tried in manly ways to
dissuade his wicked son. He said to him: "Do not proceed with this game.
Vidura does not approve of it, the wise Vidura of lofty intellect who is ever
intent on our welfare. He says the game is bound to result in a fierceness of
hate which will consume us and our kingdom."
But Duryodhana did not heed this advice.
Carried away by his doting fondness for his son, Dhritarashtra surrendered his
better judgment and sent to Yudhishthira the fateful invitation to the game.
SURA, the grandfather of Sri Krishna, was a
worthy scion of the Yadava race. His daughter Pritha was noted for her beauty
and virtues. Since his cousin Kuntibhoja was childless, Sura gave his daughter
Pritha in adoption to him. From that time she was known by the name of Kunti
after her adoptive father.
When Kunti was a little girl, the sage Durvasa
stayed for a time as a guest in her father's house and she served the sage for
a year with all care, patience and devotion. He was so pleased with her that he
gave her a divine mantra. He said:
"If you call upon any god repeating this
mantra, he will manifest himself to you and bless you with a son equal to him
in glory." He granted her this boon because he foresaw by his yogic power
the misfortune that was in store for her future husband.
The impatient curiosity of youth made Kunti
test then and there the efficacy of the mantra by repeating it and invoking the
Sun whom she saw shining in the heavens. At once the sky grew dark with clouds,
and under cover of them the Sun god approached the beautiful princess Kunti and
stood gazing at her with ardent soul scorching admiration. Kunti, overpowered
by the glorious vision of her divine visitor, asked: "O god, who art
thou?"
The Sun replied: "Dear maiden, I am the
Sun. I have been drawn to you by the spell of the son-giving mantra that you
have uttered."
Kunti was aghast and said: "I am an
unwedded girl dependent on my father. I am not fit for motherhood and do not
desire it. I merely wished to test the power of the boon granted by the sage
Durvasa. Go back and forgive this childish folly of mine." But the Sun god
could not thus return because the power of the mantra held him. She for her
part was mortally afraid of being blamed by the world. The Sun god however
reassured her:
"No blame shall attach to you. After
bearing my son, you will regain virginity.''
Kunti conceived by the grace of the Sun, the
giver of light and life to all the world. Divine births take place immediately
without the nine months weary course of mortal gestation.
She gave birth to Karna who was born with
divine armor and earrings and was bright and beautiful like the Sun. In time,
he became one of the world's greatest heroes. After the birth of the child,
Kunti once again became a virgin as a result of the boon granted by the Sun.
She wondered what she should do with the child.
To hide her fault she placed the child in a sealed box and set it afloat in a
river. A childless charioteer happened to see the floating case, and taking it,
was surprised and delighted to see within it a gorgeously beautiful child.
He handed it over to his wife who lavished a
mother's love on it. Thus Karna, the son of the Sun god, came to be brought up
as a charioteer's child. When the time came for giving Kunti in marriage,
Kuntibhoja invited all the neighboring princes and held a swayamvara for her to
choose her husband.
Many eager suitors flocked to the swayamvara as
the princess was widely famed for her great beauty and virtue. Kunti placed the
garland on the neck of King Pandu, the bright representative of the Bharata
race, whose personality eclipsed the lustre of all the other princes assembled
there. The marriage was duly solemnised and she accompanied her husband to his
capital Hastinapur.
On the advice of Bhishma and in accordance with
the prevailing custom, Pandu took a second wife Madri, the sister of the king
of Madra. In the old days the kings took two or three wives for making sure of
progeny and not for mere sensual desire.
ONE day King Pandu was out hunting. A sage and
his wife were also sporting in the forest in the guise of deer. Pandu shot the
male with an arrow, in ignorance of the fact that it was a sage in disguise.
Stricken to death the rishi thus cursed Pandu: "Sinner, you will meet with
death the moment you taste the pleasures of the bed."
Pandu was heartbroken at this curse and
retreated to the forest with his wives after entrusting his kingdom to Bhishma
and Vidura and lived there a life of perfect abstinence.
Seeing that Pandu was desirous of offspring,
which the rishi’s curse had denied him, Kunti confided to him the story of the
mantra she had received from Durvasa. He urged Kunti and Madri to use the
mantra and thus it was that the five Pandavas were born of the gods to Kunti
and Madri.
They were born and brought up in the forest
among ascetics. King Pandu lived for many years in the forest with his wives
and children. It was springtime. And one day Pandu and Madri forgot their
sorrows in the rapture of sympathy with the throbbing life around them, the
happy flowers, creepers, birds and other creatures of the forest.
In spite of Madri’s earnest and repeated
protests Pandu’s resolution broke down under the exhilarating influence of the
season, and at once the curse of the sage took effect and Pandu fell, dead.
Madri could not contain her sorrow. Since she
felt that she was responsible for the death of the king. She burnt herself on
the pyre of her husband entreating Kunti to remain and be a mother to her
doubly orphaned children.
The sages of the forest took the bereaved and
grief-stricken Kunti and the Pandavas to Hastinapura and entrusted them to
Bhishma.
Yudhishthira was but sixteen years old at that
time. When the sages came to Hastinapura and reported the death of Pandu in the
forest, the whole kingdom was plunged in sorrow. Vidura, Bhishma, Vyasa,
Dhritarashtra and others performed the funeral rites.
All the people in the kingdom lamented as at a
personal loss. Vyasa said to Satyavati, the grandmother: "The past has
gone by pleasantly, but the future has many sorrows in store. The world has
passed its youth like a happy dream and it is now entering on disillusionment,
sin, sorrow and suffering. Time is inexorable. You need not wait to see the miseries
and misfortunes that will befall this race. It will be good for you to leave
the city and spend the rest of your days in a hermitage in the forest."
Satyavati agreed and went to the forest with Ambika and Ambalika. These three
aged queens passed through holy asceticism to the higher regions of bliss and
spared themselves the sorrows of their children.
THE five sons of Pandu and the hundred sons of
Dhritarashtra grew up in mirth and merriment at Hastinapura. Bhima excelled
them all in physical prowess. He used to bully Duryodhana and the other
Kauravas by dragging them by the hair and beating them.
A great swimmer, he would dive, into pools,
with one or more of them clasped helpless in his arms, and remain under water
till they were almost drowned. Whenever they climbed up on a tree he would
stand on the ground and kick at the tree and shake them down like ripe fruits.
The bodies of the sons of Dhritarashtra would
be ever sore with bruises as a result of Bhima's practical jokes. Small wonder
that the sons of Dhritarashtra nursed a deep hatred for Bhima from their very
infancy.
As the princes grew up. Kripacharya taught them
archery and the practice of arms and other things that princes should learn.
Duryodhana's jealousy towards Bhima warped his mind and made him commit many
improper acts.
Duryodhana was very much worried. His father
being blind, the kingdom was ruled by Pandu. After his death Yudhishthira, the
heir-apparent, would in course of time become king. Duryodhana thought that as
his blind father was quite helpless he must, to prevent Yudhishthira's
accession to the throne, contrive a way of killing Bhima.
He made arrangements to carry out his resolve
since he thought that the powers of the Pandavas would decline with the death
of Bhima.
Duryodhana and his brothers planned to throw
Bhima into the Ganges, imprison Arjuna and Yudhishthira, and then seize the
kingdom and rule it. So Duryodhana went with his brothers and the Pandavas for
a swim in the Ganges.
After the sports they slept in their tents
being exhausted. Bhima had exerted himself more than the others and as his food
had been poisoned, he felt drowsy and lay down on the bank of the river.
Duryodhana bound him with wild creepers and threw him into the river.
The evil Duryodhana had already caused sharp
spikes to be planted on the spot. This was done purposely so that Bhima might
in falling be impaled on the spikes, and lose his life. Fortunately there was
no spike in the place where Bhima fell. Poisonous water-snakes bit his body.
The poisonous food he had taken was
counteracted by the snake poison and Bhima came to no harm, and presently, the
river washed him to a bank.
Duryodhana thought that Bhima must have died as
he had been thrown in the river infested with poisonous snakes and planted with
spikes. So he returned to the city with the rest of the party in great joy.
When Yudhishthira inquired about the
whereabouts of Bhima, Duryodhana informed him that he had preceded them to the
city.
Yudhishthira believed Duryodhana and as soon as
he returned home, asked his mother whether Bhima had returned home.
His anxious question brought forth the reply
that Bhima had not yet returned, which made Yudhishthira suspect some foul play
against his brother. And he went again with his brothers to the forest and
searched everywhere. But Bhima could not be found. They went back in great
sorrow.
Sometime later Bhima awoke and trudged wearily
back home. Kunti and Yudhishthira welcomed him and embraced him in great joy.
By the poison that had entered his system Bhima became stronger than before.
Kunti sent for Vidura and told him in secret:
"Duryodhana is wicked and cruel. He seeks
to kill Bhima since he wants to rule the kingdom. I am worried."
Vidura replied: "What you say is true, but
keep your thoughts to yourself. For if the wicked Duryodhana is accused or
blamed, his anger and hatred will only increase. Your sons are blessed with
long life. You need have no fear on that account."
Yudhishthira also warned Bhima and said:
"Be silent over the matter. Hereafter, we have to be careful and help one
another and protect ourselves."
Duryodhana was surprised to see Bhima come back
alive. His jealousy and hatred increased. He heaved a deep sigh and pined away
in sorrow.
THE Pandavas and the Kauravas learnt the
practice of arms first from Kripacharya
and later from Drona. A day was fixed for a test and exhibition of their
proficiency in the use of arms in the presence of the royal family and as the
public had also been invited to witness the performance of their beloved
princes. There was a large and enthusiastic crowd.
Arjuna displayed superhuman skill with his
weapons and the vast assemblage was lost in wonder and admiration. Duryodhana's
brow was dark with envy and hate.
At the close of the day, there came suddenly
from the entrance of the arena a sound, loud and compelling like thunder the
sound made by the slapping of mighty arms in challenge. All eyes turned in that
direction. They saw enter through the crowd, which made way in awed silence, a
godlike youth from whom light and power seemed to emanate. He looked proudly
round him, cast a negligent salute to Drona and Kripa, and strode up to Arjuna.
The brothers, all unaware, by the bitter irony of fate, of their common blood,
faced one another; for it was Karna.
Karna addressed Arjuna in a voice deep as
rumbling thunder: "Arjuna, I shall show greater skill than you have
displayed."
With Drona's leave, Karna the lover of battle,
then and there duplicated all of Arjuna's feats with careless ease. Great was
Duryodhana's exultation. He threw his arms round Karna and said: "Welcome,
O thou with mighty arms, whom good fortune has sent to us. I and this kingdom
of the Kurus are at your command."
Said Karna: "I, Karna, am grateful, O
king. Only two things I seek, your love and single combat with Partha."
Duryodhana clasped Karna again to his bosom and
said: "My prosperity is all thine to enjoy."
As love flooded Duryodhana's heart, even so did
blazing wrath fill Arjuna, who felt affronted. And glaring fiercely at Karna
who stood, stately as a mountain peak, receiving the greetings of the Kaurava
brothers, he said: "O Karna, slain by me thou shalt presently go to the
hell appointed for those who intrude uninvited and prate unbidden."
Karna laughed in scorn: "This arena is
open to all, O Arjuna, and not to you alone. Might is the sanction of
sovereignty and the law is based on it. But what is the use of mere talk which
is the weapon of the weak? Shoot arrows instead of words."
Thus challenged, Arjuna, with Drona's
permission, hastily embraced his brothers and stood ready for combat. While
Karna, taking leave of the Kuru brothers, confronted him weapon in hand.
And, as though the divine parents of the heroes
sought to encourage their offspring and witness this fateful battle, Indra, the
lord of the thunderclouds, and Bhaskara of the in finite rays, simultaneously
appeared in the heavens.
When she saw Karna, Kunti knew him as her first
born and fainted away. Vidura instructed the maidservant to attend upon her and
she revived. She stood stupefied with anguish not knowing what to do.
As they were about to join in battle, Kripa,
well-versed in the rules of single combat, stepped between them and addressed
Karna:
"This prince, who is ready to fight with
thee, is the son of Pritha and Pandu and a scion of the Kuru race. Reveal O
mighty armed thy parentage and the race rendered illustrious by thy birth. It
is only after knowing thy lineage that Partha can fight with thee, for
high-born princes cannot engage in single combat with unknown
adventurers."
When he heard these words, Karna bent down his
head like a lotus under the weight of rainwater.
Duryodhana stood up and said: "If the
combat cannot take place merely because Karna is not a prince, why, that is
easily remedied. I crown Karna as the king of Anga." He then obtained the
assent of Bhishma and Dhritarashtra, performed all the necessary rites and
invested Karna with the sovereignty of the kingdom of Anga giving him the
crown, jewels and other royal insignia.
At that moment, as the combat between the
youthful heroes seemed about to commence, the old charioteer Adhiratha, who was
the foster-father of Karna, entered the assembly, staff in hand and quaking
with fear.
No sooner did he see him, that Karna, the newly
crowned king of Anga, bowed his head and did humble obeisance in all filial
reverence. The old man called him son, embraced him with his thin and trembling
arms, and wept with joy wetting with tears of love his head already moistened
by the water of the coronation.
At this sight, Bhima roared with laughter and
said: "O he is after all only the son of a charioteer! Take up the driving
whip then as befits thy parentage. Thou art not worthy of death at the hands of
Arjuna. Nor shouldst thou reign in Anga as a king."
At this outrageous speech, Karna's lips trembled
with anguish and he speechlessly looked up at the setting sun with a deep sigh.
But Duryodhana broke in indignantly:
"It is unworthy of you, O Vrikodara, to
speak thus. Valor is the hallmark of a kshatriya. Nor is there much sense in
tracing great heroes and mighty rivers to their sources. I could give you
hundreds of instances of great men of humble birth and I know awkward questions
might be asked of your own origin. Look at this warrior, his godlike form and
bearing, his armor and earrings, and his skill with weapons. Surely there is
some mystery about him. For how could a tiger be born of an antelope? Unworthy
of being king of Anga, didst thou say? I verily hold him worthy to rule the
whole world."
In generous wrath, Duryodhana took Karna in his
chariot and drove away.
The sun set and the crowd dispersed in tumult.
There were groups loud in talk under the light of the lamps, some glorifying
Arjuna, others Karna, and others again Duryodhana according to their
predilection.
Indra foresaw that a supreme contest was
inevitable between his son Arjuna and Karna. And he put on the garb of a
brahmana and came to Karna, who was reputed for his charity and begged of him
his earrings and armor. The Sun god had already warned Karna in a dream that
Indra would try to deceive him in this manner.
Still, Karna could not bring himself to refuse
any gift that was asked of him. Hence he cut off the earrings and armor with
which he was born and gave them to the brahmana.
Indra, the king of gods, was filled with
surprise and joy. After accepting the gift, he praised Karna as having done
what no one else would do, and, shamed into generosity, bade Karna ask for any
boon he wanted.
Karna replied: "I desire to get your
weapon, the Sakti, which has the power to kill enemies." Indra granted the
boon, but with a fateful proviso. He said: "You can use this weapon
against but one enemy, and it will kill him whosoever he may be. But this
killing done, this weapon will no longer be available to you but will return to
me." With these words Indra disappeared.
Karna went to Parasurama and became his
disciple by representing to him that he was a brahmana. He learnt of Parasurama
the mantra for using the master weapon known as Brahmastra.
One day Parasurama was reclining with the head
on Karna's lap when a stinging worm burrowed into Karna's thigh. Blood began to
flow and the pain was terrible. But Karna bore it without tremor lest he should
disturb the master's sleep. Parasurama awoke and saw the blood that had poured
from the wound.
He said: "Dear pupil, you are not a
brahmana. A kshatriya alone can remain unmoved under all bodily torments. Tell
me the truth."
Karna confessed that he had told a lie in
presenting himself as a brahmana and that he was in fact the son of a
charioteer.
Parasurama in his anger pronounced this curse
on him: "Since you deceived your guru, the Brahmastra you have learnt
shall fail you at the fated moment. You will be unable to recall the invocatory
mantra when your hour comes."
It was because of this curse that at the crisis
of his last fight with Arjuna, Karna was not able to recall the Brahmastra
spell, though he had remembered it till then. Karna was the faithful friend of
Duryodhana and remained loyally with the Kauravas until the end.
After the fall of Bhishma and Drona, Karna
became the leader of the Kaurava army and fought brilliantly for two days. In
the end, the wheel of his chariot stuck in the ground and be was not able to
lift it free and drive the chariot along. While he was in this predicament, Arjuna
killed him. Kunti was sunk in sorrow, all the more poignant because she had, at
that time, to conceal it.
DRONA, the son of a brahmana named Bharadwaja,
after completing his study of the Vedas and the Vedangas, devoted himself to
the art of archery and became a great master.
Drupada, the son of the king of Panchala, who
was a friend of Bharadwaja, was a fellow-student of Drona in the hermitage and
there grew up between them the generous intimacy of youth.
Drupada, in his boyish enthusiasm, used often
to tell Drona that he would give him half his kingdom when he ascended the
throne. After completing his studies, Drona married the sister of Kripa, and a
son Aswatthama was born to them.
Drona was passionately attached to his wife and
son, and, for their sake, desired to acquire wealth, a thing that he had never
cared for before. Learning that Parasurama was distributing his riches among
the brahmanas, he first went to him. But he was too late as Parasurama had
already given away all his wealth and was about to retire to the forest.
But, anxious to do something for Drona,
Parasurama offered to teach him the use of weapons, of which he was supreme
master.
Drona joyfully agreed, and great archer as he
already was, he became unrivalled master of the military art, worthy of eager
welcome as preceptor in any princely house in that warlike age.
Meanwhile, Drupada had ascended the throne of
Panchala on the death of his father. Remembering their early intimacy and
Drupada's expressions of readiness to serve him, even to the extent of sharing
his kingdom, Drona went to him in the confident hope of being treated
generously.
But he found the king very different from the
student. When he introduced himself as an old friend, Drupada, far from being
glad to see him, felt it an intolerable presumption.
Drunk with power and wealth, Drupada said:
"O brahmana, how dare you address me familiarly as your friend? What
friendship can there be between a throned king and a wandering beggar? What a
fool must you be to presume on some long past acquaintance to claim friend ship
with a king who rules a kingdom? How can a pauper be the friend of a wealthy
man, or an ignorant boor of a learned scholar, or a coward of a hero?
Friendship can exist only between equals. A vagrant beggar cannot be the friend
of a sovereign." Drona was turned out of the palace with scorn in his ears
and a blazing wrath in his heart.
He made a mental vow to punish the arrogant
king for this insult and his repudiation of the sacred claims of early friendship.
His next move in search of employment was to go to Hastinapura, where he spent
a few days, in retirement, in the house of his brother-in-law Kripacharya.
One day, the princes were playing with a ball
outside the precincts of the city, and in the course of the game, the ball as
well as Yudhishthira's ring fell into a well. The princes had gathered round
the well and saw the ring shining from the bottom through the clear water. But
could see no way of getting it out. They did not however, notice that a
brahmana of dark complexion stood nearby watching them with a smile.
"Princes," he surprised them by
saying, "you are the descendants of the heroic Bharata race. Why cannot
you take out the ball as anyone skilled in arms should know how to do? Shall I
do it for you?"
Yudhishthira laughed and said in fun: "O
brahmana, if you take out the ball, we will see that you have a good meal in
the house of Kripacharya." Then Drona the brahmana stranger, took a blade
of grass and sent it forth into the well after reciting certain words of power
for propelling it as an arrow.
The blade of grass straightway sped and stuck
into the ball. Afterwards he sent a number of similar blades in succession
which clinging together formed a chain, wherewith Drona took out the ball.
The princes were lost in amazement and delight
and begged of him to get the ring also. Drona borrowed a bow, fixed an arrow on
the string and sent it right into the ring. The arrow rebounding brought up the
ring and the brahmana handed it to the prince with a smile.
Seeing these feats, the princes were astonished
and said: "We salute you, O brahmana. Who are you? Is there anything we
can do for you?" and they bowed to him.
He said: "O princes, go to Bhishma and
learn from him who I am."
From the description given by the princes,
Bhishma knew that the brahmana was none other than the famous master Drona. He
decided that Drona was the fittest person to impart further instruction to the
Pandavas and the Kauravas. So, Bhishma received him with special honor and
employed him to instruct the princes in the use of arms.
As soon as the Kauravas and the Pandavas had
acquired mastery in the science of arms, Drona sent Karna and Duryodhana to
seize Drupada and bring him alive, in discharge of the duty they owed to him as
their master.
They went as ordered by him, but could not
accomplish their task. Then the master sent forth Arjuna on the same errand. He
defeated Drupada in battle and brought him and his minister captives to Drona.
Then Drona smilingly addressed Drupada:
"Great king, do not fear for your life. In our boyhood we were companions
but you were pleased to forget it and dishonor me. You told me that a king
alone could be friend to a king. Now I am a king, having conquered your
kingdom. Still I seek to regain my friendship with you, and so I give you half
of your kingdom that has become mine by conquest. Your creed is that friendship
is possible only between equals. And we shall now be equals, each owning a half
of your kingdom."
Drona thought this sufficient revenge for the
insult he had suffered, set Drupada at liberty and treated him with honor.
Drupada's pride was thus humbled but, since hate is never extinguished by
retaliation, and few things are harder to bear than the pangs of wounded
vanity, hatred of Drona and a wish to be revenged on him became the ruling
passion of Drupada's life.
The king performed tapas, underwent fasts and
conducted sacrifices in order to win the gratified gods to bless him with a son
who should slay Drona and a daughter who should wed Arjuna.
His efforts were crowned with success with the
birth of Dhrishtadyumna who commanded the Pandava army at Kurukshetra and,
helped by a strange combination of circumstances, slew the otherwise
unconquerable Drona, and birth of Draupadi, the consort of the Pandavas.
THE jealousy of Duryodhana began to grow at the
sight of the physical strength of Bhima and the dexterity of Arjuna. Karna and
Sakuni became Duryodhana's evil counsellors in planning wily stratagems.
As for poor Dhritarashtra, he was a wise man no
doubt and he also loved his brother's sons, but he was weak of will and
dotingly attached to his own children. For his children's sake the worse became
the better reason, and he would sometimes even knowingly follow the wrong path.
Duryodhana sought in various ways to kill the
Pandavas. It was by means of the secret help rendered by Vidura who wanted to
save the family from a great sin, that the Pandavas escaped with their lives.
One unforgivable offence of the Pandavas in the
eyes of Duryodhana was that the people of the city used to praise them openly
and declare in season and out of season that Yudhishthira alone was fit to be
the king.
They would flock together and argue:
"Dhritarashtra could never be king for he
was born blind. It is not proper that he should now hold the kingdom in his
hands. Bhishma cannot be king either, because he is devoted to truth and to his
vow that he would not be a king. Hence Yudhishthira alone should be crowned as
king. He alone can rule the Kuru race and the kingdom with justice." Thus
people talked everywhere. These words were poison to Duryodhana's ears, and
made him writhe and burn with jealousy.
He went to Dhritarashtra and complained
bitterly of the public talk: "Father, the citizens babble irrelevant
nonsense. They have no respect even for such venerable persons as Bhishma and
yourself. They say that Yudhishthira should be immediately crowned king. This
would bring disaster on us. You were set aside because of your blindness, and
your brother became the king. If Yudhishthira is to succeed his father, where
do we come? What chance has our progeny? After Yudhishthira his son, and his
son's son, and then his son will be the kings. We will sink into poor relations
dependent on them even for our food. To live in hell would be better than
that!"
At these words, Dhritarashtra began to ponder
and said: "Son, what you say is true. Still Yudhishthira will not stray
from the path of virtue. He loves all. He has truly inherited all the excellent
virtues of his deceased father. People praise him and will support him, and all
the ministers of the State and commanders of armies, to whom Pandu had endeared
himself by his nobility of character, will surely espouse his cause. As for the
people, they idolise the Pandavas. We cannot oppose them with any chance of
success. If we do injustice, the citizens will rise in insurrection and either
kill us or expel us. We shall only cover ourselves with ignominy."
Duryodhana replied: "Your fears are
baseless. Bhishma will at worst be neutral, while Ashwatthama is devoted to me,
which means that his father Drona and uncle Kripa will also be on our side.
Vidura cannot openly oppose us, if for no other reason, because he has not the
strength. Send the Pandavas immediately to Varanavata. I tell you the solemn
truth that my cup of suffering is full and I can bear no more. It pierces my
heart and renders me sleepless and makes my life a torment. After sending the
Pandavas to Varanavata we shall try to strengthen our party."
Later, some politicians were prevailed upon to
join Duryodhana's party and advise the king in the matter. Kanika, the minister
of Sakuni, was their leader. "O king," he said, "guard
yourselves against the sons of Pandu, for their goodness and influence are a
menace to you and yours. The Pandavas are the sons of your brother, but the
nearer the kin, the closer and deadlier the danger. They are very strong."
Sakuni's minister continued: "Be not wroth
with me if I say a king should be mighty in action as in name, for nobody will
believe in strength which is never displayed. State affairs should be kept
secret and the earliest indication to the public, of a wise plan, should be its
execution. Also, evils must be eradicated promptly for a thorn which has been
allowed to remain in the body may cause a festering wound. Powerful enemies
should be destroyed and even a weak foe should not be neglected since a mere
spark, if over looked, may cause a forest fire. A strong enemy should be
destroyed by means of stratagem and it would be folly to show mercy to him. O
king, guard yourself against the sons of Pandu. They are very powerful."
Duryodhana told Dhritarashtra of his success in
securing adherents: "I have bought the goodwill of the king's attendants
with gifts of wealth and honor. I have won over his ministers to our cause. If
you will adroitly prevail upon the Pandavas to go to Varanavata, the city and
the whole kingdom will take our side. They will not have a friend left here.
Once the kingdom has become ours, there will be no power for harm left in them,
and it may even be possible to let them come back."
When many began to say what he himself wished
to believe, Dhritarashtra's mind was shaken and he yielded to his sons'
counsels. It only remained to give effect to the plot.
The ministers began to praise the beauty of
Varanavata in the hearing of the Pandavas and made mention of the fact that a
great festival in honor of Siva would be conducted there with all pomp and
splendor.
The unsuspecting Pandavas were easily
persuaded, especially when Dhritarashtra also told them in tones of great
affection that they should certainly go and witness the festivities, not only
because they were worth seeing but because the people of the place were eager
to welcome them.
The Pandavas took leave of Bhishma and other
elders and went to Varanavata. Duryodhana was elated. He plotted with Karna and
Sakuni to kill Kunti and her sons at Varanavata. They sent for Purochana, a
minister, and gave him secret instructions which he bound himself to carry out
faithfully.
Before the Pandavas proceeded to Varanavata,
Purochana, true to his instructions, hastened to the spot well in advance and
had a beautiful palace built for their reception. Combustible materials like
jute, lac, ghee, oil, and fat were used in the construction of the palace. The
materials for the plastering of the walls were also inflammable. He skilfully
filled up various parts of the building with dry things that could catch fire
easily, and had inviting seats and bedsteads disposed at the most combustible
places.
Every convenience was furnished for the
Pandavas to dwell in the city without fear, until the palace was built. When
the Pandavas had settled down in the wax house, the idea was to set fire to it
at night when they were sound asleep.
The ostentatious love and solicitude with which
the Pandavas had been received and treated would obviate all suspicion and the
fire would be taken as a sad case of pure accident. No one would dream of
blaming the Kauravas.
15. The Escape Of The Pandavas
AFTER taking reverential leave of the elders
and embracing their comrades, the Pandavas proceeded to Varanavata. The
citizens accompanied them a part of their way and returned unwillingly to the
city. Vidura pointedly warned Yudhishthira in words intelligible only to the prince:
"He alone will escape from danger who
forestalls the intentions of an astute enemy. There are weapons sharper than
those made of steel. And the wise man who would escape destruction must know
the means to guard against them. The conflagration that devastates a forest
cannot hurt a rat which shelters itself in a hole or a porcupine which burrows
in the earth. The wise man knows his bearings by looking at the stars."
Though they had started on their journey in
sunshine of joy, they now proceeded in a dark cloud of sorrow and anxiety.
The people of Varanavata were very happy to
learn of the coming of the Pandavas to their city and welcomed them. After a
brief stay in other houses while the palace specially meant for them was being
got ready, they moved into it under Purochana's guidance.
It was named "Sivam" which means
prosperity, and that was the name which, in ghastly irony, was given to the
deathtrap. Yudhishthira diligently examined the whole place bearing in mind
Vidura's warning and verified that the building was without a shadow of doubt
constructed with combustible material.
Yudhishthira told Bhima: "Though we know
very well that the palace is a trap of death, we should not make Purochana
suspect that we know his plot. We should get away at the right moment but
escape would be difficult if we gave room for any suspicion."
So they stayed in that house to all appearance
free from care. Meanwhile, Vidura had sent an expert miner who met them in
secret and said: "My password is the veiled warning Vidura gave you. I
have been sent to help you for your protection."
This was meant to indicate to Yudhishthira and
to him alone, Duryodhana's hideous plot and the means of escape from danger.
Yudhishthira answered that he had grasped Vidura's meaning, and later he
communicated it to Kuntidevi.
Henceforward the miner worked for many days in
secret, unknown to Purochana, and completed a subterranean egress from the wax
house right under and across the walls and the moat, which ran round the
precincts.
Purochana had his quarters at the gateway of
the palace. The Pandavas kept armed vigil during night, but by day they used to
go out hunting in the forest, to all appearance bent on pleasure but really to
make themselves familiar with the forest paths.
As has already been said, they carefully kept
to themselves their knowledge of the wicked plot against their lives. On his
side Purochana, anxious to lull all suspicion and make the murderous fire seem
an accident, waited fully a year before putting the plot into effect.
At last Purochana felt he had waited long
enough. And the watchful Yudhishthira, knowing that the fated moment had
arrived, called his brothers together and told them that now or never was the
time for them to escape.
Kuntidevi arranged a sumptuous feast for the
attendants that day. Her idea was to lull them to well-fed sleep at night.
At midnight, Bhima set fire to the palace in
several places. Kuntidevi and the Pandava brothers hurried out through the
subterranean passage, groping their way out in the darkness. Presently, there
was a roaring fire all over the palace and a fast swelling crowd of frightened
citizens all around in loud and helpless lamentation.
Some bustled aimlessly in futile efforts to put
out the conflagration and all joined in the cry: "Alas! Alas! This surely
is Duryodhana's work, and he is killing the sinless Pandavas!"
The palace was reduced to ashes. Purochana's
residence was enveloped in flames before he could escape and he fell an
unpitied victim to his own wicked plot.
The people of Varanavata, sent the following
message to Hastinapura: "The palace which was the abode of the Pandavas
has burnt down and no one in it escaped alive."
Vyasa has beautifully described the then mental
state of Dhritarashtra: "Just as the water of a deep pool is cool at the
bottom and warm on the surface, so the heart of Dhritarashtra was at once warm
with joy and chilled with sorrow."
Dhritarashtra and his sons cast off their royal
garments in token of mourning for the Pandavas whom they believed consumed in
the fire. They dressed themselves in single garments as became sorrowful
kinsmen and went to the river and performed the propitiatory funeral rites.
No outward show of heart broken bereavement was
omitted. It was noticed by some that Vidura was not so overcome by sorrow as
the others and this was set down to his philosophical bent of mind. But the
real reason was that he knew that the Pandavas had escaped to safety.
When he looked sad, he was in fact following
with his mind's eye the weary wanderings of the Pandavas. Seeing that Bhishma
was sunk in sorrow, Vidura secretly comforted him by revealing to him the story
of their successful escape.
Bhima saw that his mother and brothers were
exhausted by their nightly vigils as well as by fear and anxiety. He therefore
carried his mother on his shoulders and took Nakula and Sahadeva on his hips,
supporting Yudhishthira and Arjuna with his two hands.
Thus heavily laden, he strode effortlessly like
a lordly elephant forcing his way through the forest and pushing aside the
shrubs and trees that obstructed his path.
When they reached the Ganges, there was a boat
ready for them in charge of a boatman who knew their secret. They crossed the
river in the darkness, and entering a mighty forest they went on at night in
darkness that wrapped them like a shroud and in a silence broken hideously by
the frightful noises of wild animals.
At last, quite fordone by toil, they sat down
unable to bear the pangs of thirst and overcome by the drowsiness of sheer
fatigue. Kuntidevi said: "I do not care even if the sons of Dhritarashtra
are here to seize me, but I must stretch my legs." She forthwith laid
herself down and was sunk in sleep.
Bhima forced his way about the tangled forest
in search of water in the darkness. And finding a pool, he wetted his upper
garment, made cups of lotus leaves and brought water to his mother and brothers
who were perishing with thirst.
Then, while the others slept in merciful
forgetfulness of their woes, Bhima alone sat awake absorbed in deep thought.
"Do not the plants and the creepers of the forest mutually help each other
and live in peace?" he reflected; "why should the wicked
Dhritarashtra and Duryodhana try to injure us in these ways?" Sinless
himself, Bhima could not understand the springs of sinfulness in others and was
lost in grief.
The Pandavas marched on, suffering many
hardships and overcoming many dangers. Part of the way, they would carry their
mother to make better speed. Sometimes, tired beyond even heroic endurance,
they would pause and rest. Sometimes, full of life and the glorious strength of
youth, they would race with each other.
They met Bhagavan Vyasa on the way. All of them
bowed before him and received encouragement and wise counsel from him.
When Kunti told him of the sorrows that had
befallen them, Vyasa consoled her with these words: "No virtuous man is
strong enough to live in virtue at all times, nor is any sinner bad enough to
exist in one welter of sin. Life is a tangled web and there is no one in the
world who has not done both good and evil. Each and everyone has to bear the
consequence of his actions. Do not give way to sorrow."
Then they put on the garb of brahmanas, as
advised by Vyasa, went to the city of Ekachakra and stayed there in a
brahmana's house, waiting for better days.
IN the city of Ekachakra, the Pandavas stayed
in the guise of brahmanas, begging their food in the brahmana streets and
bringing what they got to their mother, who would wait anxiously till their
return. If they did not come back in time, she would be worried, fearing that
some evil might have befallen them.
Kunti would divide the food they brought in two
equal portions. One half would go to Bhima. The other half would be shared by
the other brothers and the mother. Bhima, being born of the Wind god had great
strength and a mighty appetite.
Vrikodara, one of the names of Bhima, means
wolf-bellied, and a wolf, you know, looks always famished. And however much it
might eat, its hunger is never quite satisfied.
Bhima's insatiable hunger and the scanty food
he used to get at Ekachakra went ill together. And he daily grew thin, which
caused much distress to his mother and brothers. Sometime later, Bhima became
acquainted with a potter for whom he helped and fetched clay. The potter, in
return, presented him with a big earthen pot that became an object of merriment
to the street urchins.
One day, when the other brothers had gone to
beg for alms, Bhimasena stayed behind with his mother, and they heard loud
lamentations from the house of their brahmana landlord. Some great calamity
surely had befallen the poor family and Kunti went inside to learn what it was.
The brahmana and his wife could hardly speak
for weeping, but, at last the brahmana said to his wife: "O unfortunate
and foolish woman, though time and again I wished we should leave this city for
good, you would not agree. You persisted in saying that you were born and bred
here and here you would stay where your parents and relations had lived and
died. How can I think of losing you who have been to me at once my life's mate,
loving mother, the wife who bore my children, nay, my all in all? I cannot send
you to death while I keep myself alive. This little girl has been given to us
by God as a trust to be handed over in time to a worthy man. It is unrighteous
to sacrifice her who is a gift of God to perpetuate the race. It is equally
impossible to allow this other, our son, to be killed. How can we live after
consigning to death our only solace in life and our hope for the here after? If
he is lost, who would pour libations for us and our ancestors? Alas! You did not
pay heed to my words, and this is the deadly fruit of your perversity. If I
give up my life, this girl and boy will surely die soon for want of a
protector. What shall I do? It is best that all of us perish together" and
the brahmana burst forth sobbing.
The wife replied: "I have been a good wife
to you, and done my duty by bearing you a daughter and a son. You are able, and
I am not, to bring up and protect your children. Just as cast out offal is
pounced upon and seized by rapacious birds, a poor widowed woman is an easy
prey to wicked and dishonest people. Dogs fight for a cloth wet with ghee, and
in pulling it hither and thither in unclean greed, tear it into foul rags. It
would be best if I am handed over to the Rakshasa. Blessed indeed is the woman
who passes to the other world, while her husband is alive. This, as you know,
is what the scriptures say. Bid me farewell. Take care of my children. I have
been happy with you. I have performed many meritorious actions. By my faithful
devotion to you, I am sure of heaven. Death has no terror for one who has been
a good wife. After I am gone, take another wife. Gladden me with a brave smile,
give me your blessing, and send me to the Rakshasa."
Hearing these words of his wife, the brahmana
tenderly embraced her and, utterly overcome by her love and courage, he wept
like a child. When he could find his voice, he replied: "O beloved and
noble one, what words are these? Can I bear to live without you? The first duty
of a married man is to protect his wife. I should indeed be a pitiful sinner if
I lived after giving you up to the Rakshasa, sacrificing both love and
duty."
The daughter who was hearing this piteous
conversation, now interposed with sobs: "Listen to me, child though I be,
and then do what is proper. It is me alone that you can spare to the Rakshasa.
By sacrificing one soul, that is, myself, you can save the others. Let me be
the little boat to take you across this river of calamity. In like manner, a
woman without a guardian becomes the sport of wicked people who drag her hither
and thither. It is impossible for me to protect two fatherless orphans and they
will perish miserably like fish in a waterless pond. If both of you pass away,
both I and this little baby brother of mine will soon perish unprotected in
this hard world. If this family of ours can be saved from destruction by my
single death, what a good death mine would be! Even if you consider my welfare
alone, you should send me to the Rakshasa."
At these brave words of the poor child, the
parents tenderly embraced her and wept. Seeing them all in tears the boy,
hardly more than a baby, started up with glowing eyes, lisping: "Father,
do not weep. Mother, do not weep. Sister, do not weep," and he went to
each and sat on their lap by turns.
Then he rose up took a stick of firewood and
brandishing it about, said in his sweet childish treble: "I shall kill the
Rakshasa with this stick." The child's action and speech made them smile
in the midst of their tears, but only added to their great sorrow.
Feeling this was the moment for intervention,
Kuntidevi entered and inquired for the cause of their sorrow and whether there
was anything she could do to help them.
The brahmana said: "Mother, this is a
sorrow far beyond your aid. There is a cave near the city, where lives a cruel
and terribly strong Rakshasa named Bakasura. He forcibly seized this city and
kingdom thirteen years ago. Since then he has held us in cruel thraldom. The
kshatriya ruler of this country has fled to the city of Vetrakiya and is unable
to protect us. This Rakshasa formerly used to issue from his cave whenever he
liked and, mad with hunger, indiscriminately kill and eat men, women and
children in this city. The citizens prayed to the Rakshasa to come to some sort
of stipulation in place of this promiscuous slaughter. They prayed: 'Do not
kill us wantonly at your whim and pleasure. Once a week we shall bring you
sufficient meat, rice, curds and intoxicating liquors and many other
delicacies. We will deliver these to you in a carriage drawn by two bullocks
driven by a human being taken from each house in turn. You can make a repast of
the rice, along with the bullocks and the man, but refrain from this mad orgy
of slaughter.' The Rakshasa agreed to the proposal. From that day, this strong
Rakshasa has been protecting this kingdom from foreign raids and wild beasts.
This arrangement has been in force for many years. No hero has been found to
free this country from this pest, for the Rakshasa has invariably defeated and
killed all the brave men who tried. Mother, our legitimate sovereign is unable
to protect us. The citizens of a country, whose king is weak, should not marry
and beget children. A worthy family life, with culture and domestic happiness,
is possible only under the rule of a good, strong king. Wife, wealth and other
things are not safe, if there be no proper king ruling over us. And having long
suffered with the sight of others' sorrow, our own turn has come now to send a
person as prey to the Rakshasa. I have not the means to purchase a substitute.
None of us can bear to live after sending one of us to a cruel death, and so I
shall go with my whole family to him. Let the wicked glutton gorge himself with
all of us. I have pained you with these things, but you wished to know. Only
God can help us, but we have lost all hope even of that."
The political truths contained in this story of
Ekachakra are noteworthy and suggestive. Kunti talked the matter over with
Bhimasena and returned to the brahmana. She said: "Good man, do not despair.
God is great. I have five sons. One of them will take the food to the
Rakshasa."
The brahmana jumped up in amazed surprise, but
then shook his head sadly and would not hear of the substituted sacrifice.
Kunti said: "O brahmana, do not be afraid. My son is endowed with
superhuman powers derived from mantras and will certainly kill this Rakshasa,
as I have myself seen him kill many other such Rakshasas. But keep this a
secret, for, if you reveal it, his power will come to naught."
Kunti's fear was that, if the story got noised
abroad, Duryodhana's men would see the hand of the Pandavas, and find out their
where abouts. Bhima was filled with unbounded joy and enthusiasm at the
arrangement made by Kunti.
The other brothers returned to the house with
alms. Dharmaputra saw the face of Bhimasena radiant with joy to which it had
long been a stranger and inferred that he was resolved on some hazardous
adventure and questioned Kunti who told him everything.
Yudhishthira said: "What is this? Is not
this rash and thoughtless? Relying on Bhima's strength we sleep without care or
fear. It is not through Bhima's strength and daring that we hope to regain the
kingdom that has been seized by our deceitful enemies? Was it not through the
prowess of Bhima that we escaped from the wax palace? And you are risking the
life of Bhima who is our present protection and future hope. I fear your many
trials have clouded your judgment!"
Kuntidevi replied: "Dear sons, we have
lived happily for many years in the house of this brahmana. Duty, nay, man's
highest virtue, is to repay the benefit he has enjoyed by doing good in his
turn. I know the heroism of Bhima and have no fears. Remember who carried us
from Varanavata and who killed the demon Hidimba. It is our duty to be of
service to this brahmana family."
After a fierce battle, the Rakshasa Bakasura
was slain by Bhima who pretended to bring him a cartload of food.
WHILE the Pandavas were living in disguise as
brahmanas at Ekachakrapura, news of the swayamvara of Draupadi, the daughter of
Drupada, King of Panchala, reached them. Many brahmanas of Ekachakrapura
planned to go to Panchala in the hope of receiving the customary gifts and to
see the festivities and pageant of a royal wedding. Kunti, with her motherly
instinct, read her sons' desire to go to Panchala and win Draupadi. So she told
Yudhishthira: "We have been in this city so long that it is time to think
of going somewhere else. We have seen these hills and dales till we are tired
of them. The alms doled out to us are diminishing and it is not good to outstay
your entertainment. Let us therefore go to Drupada's kingdom which is reputed
to be fair and prosperous." Kunti was second to none in worldly wisdom and
sagacity and could gracefully divine her sons' thoughts and spare them the
awkwardness of expressing them.
The brahmanas went in groups to witness the
swayamvara and the Pandavas mingled with them in the guise of brahmanas. After
a long march the party reached the beautiful city of Drupada and billeted
themselves in the house of a potter as obscure brahmanas of no note.
Though Drupada and Drona were outwardly at
peace, the former never could forget or forgive the humiliation he had suffered
at the latter's hands. Drupada's one wish was to give his daughter in marriage
to Arjuna.
Drona loved Arjuna so dearly that he could
hardly look upon his pupil's father-in-law as his deadly foe. And if there were
a war, Drupada would be all the stronger for being Arjuna's father-in-law. When
he heard the news of the destruction of the Pandavas at Varanavata, he was
plunged in sorrow but was relieved by a later rumour that they had escaped.
The marriage hall was beautifully decorated and
built amidst a finely laid out group of new guest-houses designed to accommodate
the swayamvara suitors and guests. Attractive sights and sports had been
arranged for public entertainment and there were glorious festivities for
fourteen days continuously.
A mighty steel bow was placed in the marriage
hall. The candidate for the princess' hand was required to string the bow and
with it shoot a steel arrow through the central aperture of a revolving disk at
a target placed on high.
This required almost superhuman strength and
skill, and Drupada proclaimed that the hero who would win his daughter should
perform this feat. Many valiant princes had gathered there from all parts of
Bharatavarsha. The sons of Dhritarashtra were there as well as Karna, Krishna,
Sisupala, Jarasandha, and Salya.
Besides the competitors there was a huge
concourse of spectators and visitors. The noise that issued therefrom resembled
the uproar of the ocean and over it all arose the auspicious sound of festal
music from hundreds of instruments.
Dhrishtadyumna on horseback rode in front of
his sister Draupadi seated on an elephant. Fresh from her auspicious bridal
bath, and clad in flowing silk Draupadi dismounted and entered the swayamvara
hall, seeming to fill it with the sweetness of her presence and perfect beauty.
Garland in hand, and coyly glancing at the
valiant princes, who for their part looked at her in speechless admiration, she
ascended the dais. The brahmanas repeated the usual mantras and offered
oblations in the fire. After the peace invocation had been chanted and the
flourish of music had stopped, Dhrishtadyumna took Draupadi by the hand and led
her to the center of the hall.
Then he proclaimed in loud, clear tones:
"Hear ye, O princes seated in state in this assembly, here is the bow.
There is the target and here are the arrows. He who sends five arrows in
succession through the hole of the wheel and unerringly hits the target, if he
also be of good family and presence, shall win my sister." Then he
narrated to Draupadi the name, ancestry and description of the several suitors
assembled there.
Many noted princes rose one after another and
tried in vain to string the bow. It was too heavy and stiff for them, and they
returned to their places abashed and ashamed.
Sisupala, Jarasandha, Salya, and Duryodhana
were among these unsuccessful aspirants. When Karna came forward, all the
assemblage expected that he would be successful but he failed by just a hair's
breadth and the string slid back flashing and the mighty bow jumped out of his
hands like a thing of life.
There was great clamor and angry talk, some
even saying that it was an impossible test put up to shame the kings. Then all
noises were hushed, for there arose from among the group of brahmanas a youth
who advanced towards the bow.
It was Arjuna who had come disguised as a
brahmana. When he stood up; wild clamor burst forth again from the crowd. The brahmanas themselves were divided in
opinion. Some being highly delighted that there should be among them a lad of
mettle enough to compete, while others more envious or worldly wise, said what
impudence it was for this brahmacharin to enter the lists when heroes like
Karna, Salya, and others had met with failure.
But there were others again who spoke
differently as they noted the noble and shapely proportions of the youth. They
said: "We feel from his appearance that he is going to win. He looks sure
of himself and he certainly knows what he is about. The brahmana may be
physically weaker, but is it all a matter of brute strength? What about the
power of austerities? Why should he not try?" And they blessed him.
Arjuna approached the place where the bow lay
and asked Dhrishtadyumna: "Can a brahmana try to bend the bow?"
Dhrishtadyumna answered: "O best of
brahmanas, my sister will become the life-mate of any one of good family and
presence, who bends the bow and shoots the target. My words stand and there
will be no going back on them."
Then Arjuna meditated on Narayana, the Supreme
God, and took the bow in his hand and strung it with ease. He placed an arrow
on the string and looked around him with a smile, while the crowd was lost in
spellbound silence.
Then without pause or hesitation he shot five
arrows in succession through the revolving mechanism right into the target so
that it fell down. The crowd was in tumult and there was a blare of musical
instruments.
The brahmanas who were seated in the assembly
in large numbers sent forth shouts of joy, waving aloft their deer-skins in
exultation as though the whole community had won Draupadi. The uproar that
followed was indescribable.
Draupadi shone with a fresh beauty. Her face
glowed with happiness which streamed out of her eyes as she looked on Arjuna.
She approached him and placed the garland on his neck. Yudhishthira, Nakula,
and Sahadeva returned in haste to the potter's house to convey the glad news
immediately to their mother.
Bhima alone remained in the assembly fearing
that some danger might befall Arjuna from the kshatriyas. As anticipated by
Bhima, the princes were loud in wrath. They said: "The practice of
swayamvara, the choosing of a bridegroom, is not prevalent among the brahmanas.
If this maiden does not care to marry a prince, she should remain a virgin and
burn herself on the pyre. How can a brahmana marry her? We should oppose this marriage
and prevent it so as to protect righteousness and save the practice of
swayamvara from the peril which threatens it." A free fight seemed
imminent.
Bhima plucked a tree by the roots, and
stripping it of foliage, stood armed with this formidable bludgeon, by the side
of Arjuna ready for any event. Draupadi said nothing but stood holding on to
the skirts of the deer-skin in which Arjuna was clad.
Krishna, Balarama and others sought to appease
those who had created the confusion. Arjuna proceeded to the house of the
potter accompanied by Draupadi.
As Bhima and Arjuna were taking Draupadi to
their temporary abode, Dhrishtadyumna followed them at a distance, and, unseen
by them, closely observed everything that took place there. He was amazed and
delighted at what he saw, and returning, he secretly told King Drupada:
"Father, I think they are the Pandavas. Draupadi accompanied them, holding
to the skirts of the deer-skin of that youth and she was not at all abashed. I
also followed and I saw all five and a venerable and august lady who, I have no
doubt, is Kunti herself."
Invited by Drupada Kunti and the Pandavas went
to the palace. Dharmaputra confided to the king that they were the Pandavas. He
also informed him of their decision to marry Draupadi in common.
Drupada rejoiced at knowing that they were the
Pandavas, which set at rest all anxiety regarding the enmity of Drona. But he
was surprised and disgusted when he heard that they would jointly marry
Draupadi.
Drupada opposed this and said: "How
unrighteous! How did this idea get into your head, this immoral idea that goes
against the traditional usage?"
Yudhishthira answered: "O king, kindly
excuse us. In a time of great peril we vowed that we would share all things in
common and we cannot break that pledge. Our mother has commanded us so."
Finally Drupada yielded and the marriage was celebrated.
WHEN news of the incidents that took place
during the swayamvara at Panchala reached Hastinapura, Vidura was happy. He
immediately went to Dhritarashtra and said: "O King, our family has become
stronger because the daughter of Drupada has become our daughter-in-law. Our
stars are good."
Dhritarashtra thought in his blind fondness for
his son that it was Duryodhana, who had also gone to take part in the
swayamvara, that had won Draupadi. Under this mistaken impression he replied:
"It is indeed, as you say, a good time for us. Go at once and bring
Draupadi. Let us give Panchali a joyous welcome."
Vidura hastened to correct the mistake. He
said: "The blessed Pandavas are alive and it is Arjuna who has won the
daughter of Drupada. The five Pandavas have married her jointly according to
the rites enjoined by the sastras. With their mother Kuntidevi they are happy
and well under the care of Drupada."
At these words of Vidura, Dhritarashtra felt
frustrated but concealed his disappointment. He said to Vidura with apparent
joy: "O Vidura, I am delighted at your words. Are the dear Pandavas really
alive? We have been mourning them as dead! The news you have now brought is
balm to my heart. So the daughter of Drupada has become our daughter-in-law.
Well, well, very good."
Duryodhana's jealousy and hatred redoubled when
he found that the Pandavas had somehow escaped from the wax palace and after
spending a year incognito had now become even more powerful on account of the
alliance with the mighty king of Panchala. Duryodhana and his brother Duhsasana
went to their uncle Sakuni and said in sorrow: "Uncle, we are undone. We
have been let down by relying on Purochana. Our enemies, the Pandavas, are
cleverer than ourselves, and fortune also seems to favor them. Dhrishtadyumna
and Sikhandin have become their allies. What can we do?"
Karna and Duryodhana went to the blind
Dhritarashtra. Duryodhana said: "You told Vidura that better days were
ahead of us. Is it good time for us that our natural enemies, the Pandavas,
have so waxed in strength that they will certainly destroy us? We could not
carry out our plot against them and the fact that they know about it is an added
danger. It has now come to this, either we must destroy them here and now or we
shall ourselves perish. Favor us with your counsel in this matter."
Dhritarashtra replied: "Dear son, what you
say is true. We should not, however, let Vidura know our mind. That was why I
spoke to him in that manner. Let me now hear your suggestions as to what we
should do."
Duryodhana said: "I feel so distracted
that no plan occurs to me. Perhaps, we may take advantage of the fact that
these Pandavas are not born of one and the same mother and create enmity
between the sons of Madri and those of Kunti. We can also try to bribe Drupada
into joining our side. That he has given away his daughter in marriage to the
Pandavas will not stand in the way of our making him an ally. There is nothing
that cannot be accomplished by the power of wealth."
Karna smiled and said: "This is but futile
talk."
Duryodhana continued: "We should somehow
make sure that the Pandavas do not come here and demand of us the kingdom that
is now in our possession. We may commission a few brahmanas to spread
convenient rumours in Drupada's city and severally tell the Pandavas that they
would meet with great danger if they were to go to Hastinapura. Then the
Pandavas would fear to come here and we shall be safe, from them."
Karna replied: "This too is idle talk. You
cannot frighten them that way."
Duryodhana continued: "Can we not create
discord among the Pandavas by means of Draupadi? Her polyandrous marriage is
very convenient for us. We shall arouse doubts and jealousies in their minds
through the efforts of experts in the science of erotics. We shall certainly
succeed. We can get a beautiful woman to beguile some of the sons of Kunti and
thus make Draupadi turn against them. If Draupadi begins to suspect any of
them, we can invite him to Hastinapura and use him so that our plan
prospers."
Karna laughed this also to scorn. He said:
"None of your proposals is any good. You cannot conquer the Pandavas by
stratagem. When they were here and were like immature birds with undeveloped
wings, we found we could not deceive them, and you think we can deceive them
now, when they have acquired experience and are moreover under the protection
of Drupada. They have seen through your designs. Stratagems will not do hereafter.
You cannot sow dissensions among them. You cannot bribe the wise and honorable
Drupada. He will not give up the Pandavas on any account. Draupadi also can
never be turned against them. Therefore, there is only one way left for us, and
that is to attack them before they grow stronger and other friends join them.
We should make a surprise attack on the Pandavas and Drupada before Krishna
joins them with his Yadava army. We should take the heroic way out of our
difficulty, as befits kshatriyas. Trickery will prove useless." Thus spoke
Karna. Dhritarashtra could not make up his mind. The king, therefore, sent for
Bhishma and Drona and consulted them.
Bhishma was very happy when he heard that the
Pandavas were alive and well as guests of King Drupada of Panchala, whose
daughter they had married. Consulted on the steps to be taken, Bhishma, wise
with the ripe knowledge of right and wrong, replied:
"The proper course will be to welcome them
back and give them half the kingdom. The citizens of the state also desire such
a settlement. This is the only way to maintain the dignity of our family. There
is much loose talk not creditable to you about the fire incident at the wax
house. All blame, even all suspicion, will be set at rest if you invite the
Pandavas and hand over half kingdom to them. This is my advice."
Drona also gave the same counsel and suggested
sending a proper messenger to bring about an amicable settlement and establish
peace.
Karna flew into a rage at this suggestion. He
was very much devoted to Duryodhana and could not at all bear the idea of
giving a portion of the kingdom to the Pandavas. He told Dhritarashtra:
"I am surprised that Drona, who has
received wealth and honors at your hands, has made such a suggestion. A king
should examine critically the advice of his ministers before accepting or
rejecting it."
At these words of Karna, Drona, his old eyes
full of anger, said: "O wicked man, you are advising the king to go on the
wrong path. If Dhritarashtra does not do what Bhishma and myself have advised,
the Kauravas will certainly meet with destruction in the near future."
Then Dhritarashtra sought the advice of Vidura
who replied:
"The counsel given by Bhishma, the head of
our race, and Drona, the master, is wise and just and should not be
disregarded. The Pandavas are also your children like Duryodhana and his
brothers. You should realise that those who advise you to injure the Pandavas
are really bent upon the destruction of the race. Drupada and his sons as well
as Krishna and the Yadavas are staunch allies of the Pandavas. It is impossible
to defeat them in battle. Karna's advice is foolish and wrong. It is reported
abroad that we tried to kill the Pandavas in the wax house, and we should first
of all try to clear ourselves of the blame. The citizens and the whole country
are delighted to know that the Pandavas are alive and they desire to see them
once again. Do not listen to the words of Duryodhana. Karna and Sakuni are but
raw youths, ignorant of statesmanship and incompetent to advise. Follow
Bhishma's advice."
In the end Dhritarashtra determined to
establish peace by giving half the kingdom to the sons of Pandu. He sent Vidura
to the kingdom of Panchala to fetch the Pandavas and Draupadi.
Vidura went to the city of King Drupada in a
speedy vehicle taking along with him many kinds of jewels and other valuable
presents.
Vidura rendered due honor to King Drupada and
requested him on behalf of Dhritarashtra to send the Pandavas with Panchali to
Hastinapura.
Drupada mistrusted Dhritarashtra, but he merely
said: "The Pandavas may do as they like."
Vidura went to Kuntidevi and prostrated himself
before her. She said: "Son of Vichitravirya, you saved my sons. They are,
therefore, your children. I trust you. I shall do as you advise." She was
also suspicious of Dhritarashtra's intentions.
Vidura thus assured her: "Your children
will never meet with destruction. They will inherit the kingdom and acquire
great renown. Come, let us go." At last Drupada also gave his assent and
Vidura returned to Hastinapura with the Pandavas, Kunti, and Draupadi.
In jubilant welcome of the beloved princes who
were returning home after long years of exile and travail, the streets of
Hastinapura had been sprinkled with water and decorated with flowers. As had
been already decided, half the kingdom was made over to the Pandavas and
Yudhishthira was duly crowned king.
Dhritarashtra blessed the newly crowned Yudhishthira
and bade him farewell with these words: "My brother Pandu made this
kingdom prosperous. May you prove a worthy heir to his renown! King Pandu
delighted in abiding by my advice. Love me in the same manner. My sons are
wicked and proud. I have made this settlement so that there may be no strife or
hatred between you. Go to Khandavaprastha and make it your capital. Our
ancestors Pururavas, Nahusha, and Yayati ruled the kingdom from there. That was
our ancient capital. Re-establish that and be famous." In this manner Dhritarashtra spoke
affectionately to Yudhishthira.
The Pandavas renovated that ruined city, built
palaces and forts, and renamed it Indraprastha. It grew in wealth and beauty
and became the admiration of the world.
The Pandavas ruled there happily for thirty-six
years with their mother and Draupadi, never straying from the path of dharma.
IN the
stories narrated in the Puranas, birds and beasts speak like men, and sometimes
they give sound advice and even teach spiritual wisdom. But the natural
qualities of those creatures are adroitly made to peep through this human veil.
One of the characteristic beauties of the
Puranic literature is this happy fusion of nature and imagination. In a
delightful passage in the Ramayana, Hanuman, who is described as very wise and
learned, is made to frolic with apish joy, when he imagined that the beautiful
damsel he saw at Ravana's inner courtyard was Sita.
It is usual to entertain children with stories
in which birds and beasts are made to speak. But the stories of the Puranas are
meant for elderly people, and in them usually some background is given in explanation
of animals having the gift of human speech.
The usual expedient employed is a previous
birth when those creatures were human beings. For instance, a deer was a rishi
in a previous birth, or a fox a king. The subsequent degradation being due to a
curse.
In such cases the deer will act as a deer and
yet speak as a rishi, and in the fox the clever nature is shot through with the
characteristics of a wise and experienced king. The stories are thereby made
interesting vehicles of the great truths they sometimes convey.
Khandavaprastha, that forest full of uneven
places and thorns and prickles and cumbered with the crumbling vestiges of a
long dead city, was indeed a frightful place when it came into the possession
of the Pandavas.
Birds and beasts had made it their abode, and
it was infested with thieves and wicked men. Krishna and Arjuna resolved to set
fire to the forest and construct a new city in its place.
A saranga bird was living there with its four
fledgelings. The male bird was pleasantly roaming about in the forest with
another female bird neglecting wife and children. The mother bird looked after
its young ones.
As the forest was set on fire as commanded by
Krishna and Arjuna and the fire spread in all directions, doing its destructive
work, the worried mother bird began to lament:
'The fire is coming nearer and nearer burning
everything, and soon it will be here and destroy us. All forest creatures are
in despair and the air is full of the agonising crash of falling trees. Poor
wingless babies! You will become a prey to the fire. What shall I do? Your
father has deserted us, and I am not strong enough to fly away carrying you
with me."
To the mother who was wailing thus, the
children said:
"Mother, do not torment yourself on our
account. Leave us to our fate. If we die here, we shall attain a good birth in
some future life. If you give up your life for our sake, our family will become
extinct. Fly to a place of safety, take another mate and be happy. You will
soon have other children and be able to forget us. Mother, reflect and do what
is best for our race."
Despite this earnest entreaty, the mother had
no mind to leave her children. She said: "I shall remain here and perish
in the flames with you."
This is the background of the story of the
birds. A rishi named Mandapala long lived faithful to his vow of perfect
brahmacharya but when he sought entry to the higher regions, the gatekeeper
said: "There is no place here for a childless man" and turned him
back. He was then born as a saranga bird and lived with a female companion
named Jarita. She laid four eggs. Then he left Jarita and wandered in the woods
with another female companion, Lapita.
The four eggs of Jarita hatched in time and
they were the four birds mentioned above. As they were the children of a rishi
they could cheer and encourage their mother in the way they did.
The mother bird told her children: "There
is a rat-hole by the side of this tree. I shall put you there. You can get into
the hole and escape the fire. I shall close the mouth of the hole with earth
and the fire will not touch you. When the fire dies down I shall let you
out."
The children would not agree. They said:
"The rat in the hole will devour us. It is better to perish in the flames
than to die ignobly by being eaten up by rats."
The mother bird tried to relieve the fears of
the children and said: "I saw an eagle devour the rat. There is now no
danger for you inside the hole."
But the children said: "There are sure to
be other rats in the hole. Our danger is not ended by the killing of one rat by
the eagle. Kindly save your life by flying before the fire reaches us and this
tree catches fire. We cannot get into the rat-hole. Why should you sacrifice
your life for our sake? How have we merited it, who have done nothing for you?
We have only brought you unhappiness since we came into the world. Take another
mate and live happily."
The fire which destroyed the whole forest,
mercifully left the baby birds unscathed. When the fire had subsided, the
mother bird came back and saw with wonder that her children were safe and
chirping merrily. She embraced them and was intensely happy.
While the fire was raging, the male bird,
anxious for the safety of his young ones, had expressed his fears to his new
love-bird Lapita. She had petulantly upbraided him. Hearing his repeated
laments "Is it so?" she said: "I know your mind, I know that you
desire to go back to Jarita, having had enough of me. Why falsely bring in the
fire and the children? You have yourself told me that the children of Jarita
would never perish in fire since the Fire god has given you that boon. You may
as well tell the truth and go away, if you like, to your beloved Jarita. I
shall only be another of the many trusting females betrayed by unworthy males
and cast out wandering in the forest. You may go."
The bird Mandapala said: "Your assumption
is untrue. I took birth as a bird for obtaining children and I am naturally
anxious about them.
I shall just go and see them and then come back
to you " Having thus consoled his new mate, be went to the tree where
Jarita was seated.
Jarita paid no attention to her consort but
remained absorbed in joy at finding her children alive.
Then she turned to her husband and asked in an
indifferent tone why he had come. He replied with affection:
"Are my children happy? Who is the eldest
among them?"
Then Jarita cut in icily: "Do you greatly
care? Go back to her for whom you abandoned me. Be happy with her."
Mandapala philosophised: "A woman will not
care for her husband after she has become a mother. Such is the way of the
world. Even the blameless Vasishtha was thus ignored by Arundhati."
THE Pandavas ruled Indraprastha in all glory.
Those who surrounded Yudhishthira urged him to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice
and assume the title of Emperor. It is evident that imperialism had an
irresistible glamour even in those days.
Yudhishthira sought Sri Krishna's advice in
this matter. When Krishna learnt that Dharmaputra desired to see him, he set
out in a chariot harnessed with swift horses and reached Indraprastha.
Yudhishthira said: "'My people urge me to
perform Rajasuya, but as you know, only he who can secure the respect and allegiance
of all kings, can perform that sacrifice and win the status of emperor. Advise
me, you are not among those whose affection makes them blind and partial. Nor
are you one of those who advise to please and whose counsel is pleasant rather
than true or wholesome."
Krishna replied: "Quite so and that is why
you cannot be emperor while the mighty Jarasandha of Magadha is alive and
unconquered. He has conquered many kings and holds them in subjection. All the
kshatriyas, including the redoubtable Sisupala himself, are afraid of his
prowess and are submissive to him. Have you not heard of the wicked Kamsa, the
son of Ugrasena? After he had become the son-in-law and ally of Jarasandha my
people and I attacked Jarasandha. After three years of continuous fighting we
had to acknowledge defeat and we left Mathura and moved to Dwaraka in the west,
and built a new city where we are living in peace and plenty. Even if
Duryodhana, Karna and others do not object to your assuming the title of
emperor, Jarasandha will certainly oppose it. And the only way to overcome his
opposition is to defeat and kill him. You can then not only perform the
Rajasuya but also rescue and win the adherence of the kings who languish in his
prisons."
At these words of Krishna, Yudhishthira said:
"I agree. I am but one of the many kings who rule their kingdoms with
fairness and justice and lead happy unambitious lives. It is mere vanity and
vainglory to desire to become an emperor. Why should not a king rest satisfied
with his own kingdom? So, I shall give up this desire to be an emperor. And
really, the title has no temptations for me. It is my brothers who wish it.
When you yourself are afraid of Jarasandha what can we hope to do?"
Bhima did not at all like this spirit of
cowardly contentment.
Bhima said: "Ambition is the noblest
virtue of a king. What is the good of being strong if one does not know his own
strength? I cannot reconcile myself to live a life of idle ease and
contentment. He who casts off indolence and properly employs political means,
can conquer even those stronger than himself. Strength reinforced by stratagem
will surely do much. What, indeed, cannot be accomplished by a combination of
my physical strength, Krishna's wisdom and Arjuna's dexterity? We can conquer
Jarasandha's might, if we three join and set about it without doubts or
fears."
Krishna interposed: "Jarasandha should
certainly be slain and fully deserves it. He has unjustly cast eighty-six
princes in prison. He has planned to immolate a hundred kings and is waiting to
lay hold of fourteen more. If Bhima and Arjuna agree, I shall accompany them
and together we will slay that king by stratagem and set free the imprisoned
princes. I like this suggestion."
Yudhishthira was not pleased with this advice.
He said: "This may really mean sacrificing Bhima and Arjuna who are to me
as my two eyes, merely to gratify a vain desire to be an emperor. I do not like
to send them on this dangerous errand. It seems to me far better to give up the
idea altogether."
Arjuna said: "What is the use to us of an
existence without heroic deeds, born as we are of an illustrious line? A
Kshatriya though endowed with all other good qualities, will not become famous
if he does not exert himself. Enthusiasm is the mother of success. We can seize
fortune if we do our duties energetically. Even a powerful man may fail if,
through lassitude, he does not employ the means he has. Failure is due, in the
vast majority of cases, to ignorance of one's own strength. We know we are
strong, and we are not afraid of using our strength to the utmost. Why should
Yudhishthira suppose that we are incapable of this? When we have become old, it
will be time to assume the ochre robe, resort to the forest and pass the rest
of our days in penance and austerities. Now, we should lead strenuous lives and
do heroic deeds worthy of the traditions of our race."
Krishna was delighted to hear these words and
said: "What else can Arjuna, born of Kunti in the Bharata race, advise?
Death comes to all, the hero as well as the sluggard. But the noblest duty of a
kshatriya is to be true to his race and faith, and overcoming his foes in
righteous battle, to win glory."
Finally Yudhishthira assented to the unanimous
opinion that their duty lay in slaying Jarasandha.
This conversation has a curiously modern ring
about it and shows that powerful men in ancient days used very much the same
specious reasoning as now.
BRIHADRATHA, the commander of three regiments,
reigned in the kingdom of Magadha and attained celebrity as a great hero. He
married the twin daughters of the raja of Kasi and vowed to them that he would
not show any partiality to either.
Brihadratha was not blessed with a child for a
long time. When he became old, he handed over his kingdom to his ministers,
went to the forest with his two wives and engaged himself in austerities.
He went to Sage Kausika of the Gautama family,
with a sorrowful longing for children in his heart. And when the sage was moved
with pity and asked him what he wanted, he answered:
"I am childless and have come to the
forest giving up my kingdom. Give me children."
The sage was filled with compassion and, even
as he was thinking how to help the king, a mango fruit fell into his lap. He
took it and gave it to the king with this blessing: "Take it. Your wish
will be fulfilled."
The king cut the fruit into two halves and gave
one to each wife. He did so to keep his vow not to show partiality to either.
Some time after they had partaken of the fruit, the wives became pregnant.
The delivery took place in due course. But
instead of bringing the expected joy, it plunged them into greater grief than
before. For they each gave birth to but a half of a child. Each half was a
monstrous birth which seemed a revolting lump.
They were indeed two equal and complementary
portions of one baby, consisting of one eye, one leg, half a face, one ear and
so on. Seized with grief, they commanded their attendants to tie the gruesome
pieces in a cloth and cast them away.
The attendants did as they were instructed and
threw the cloth bundle on a heap of refuse in the street. A cannibal Rakshasi
chanced upon that place. She was elated at seeing the two pieces of flesh and,
as she gathered them up both at once, accidently the halves came together the
right way. And they at once adhered together and changed into a whole living
child, perfect in every detail.
The surprised Rakshasi did not wish to kill the
child. She took on the guise of a beautiful woman and, going to the king,
presented the child to him saying: "This is your child."
The king was immensely delighted and handed it
over to his two wives. This child became known as Jarasandha. He grew up in to
a man of immense physical strength. But his body had one weakness namely, that
being made up by the fusion of two separate parts, it could be split again into
two, if sufficient force were used.
This interesting story embodies the important
truth that two sundered parts joined together will still remain weak, with a
tendency to split. When the conquest and slaying of Jarasandha had been
resolved upon, Sri Krishna said: "Hamsa, Hidimbaka, Kamsa, and other
allies of Jarasandha are no more. Now that he is isolated, this is the right
time to kill him. It is useless to fight
with armies. He must be provoked to a single combat and slain."
According to the code of honor of those days, a
kshatriya had to accept the challenge to a duel whether with or without
weapons.
The latter sort was a fight to the death with
weighted gauntlets or a wrestling to the death in catch-as-catch-can style.
This was the kshatriya tradition to which Krishna and the Pandavas had recourse
for slaying Jarasandha.
They disguised themselves as men who had taken
religious vows, clad in robes of bark-fibre and carrying the holy darbha grass
in their hands. Thus they entered the kingdom of Magadha and arrived at the
capital of Jarasandha.
Jarasandha was disturbed by portents of ill
omen. To ward off the threatened danger, he had propitiatory rites performed by
the priests and himself took to fasts and penance.
Krishna, Bhima, and Arjuna entered the palace
unarmed. Jarasandha received them with respect as their noble bearing seemed to
indicate an illustrious origin. Bhima and Arjuna made no reply to his words of
welcome because they wished to avoid having to tell lies.
Krishna spoke on their behalf: "These two
are observing a vow of silence for the present as at part of their austerities.
They can speak only after midnight." Jarasandha entertained them in the
hall of sacrifice and returned to the palace.
It was the practice of Jarasandha to meet noble
guests who had taken vows and talk to them at their leisure and convenience,
and so he called at midnight to see them.
Their conduct made Jarasandha suspicious, and
he also observed that they had on their hands the scars made by the bowstring
and had besides the proud bearing of kshatriyas.
When Jarasandha demanded the truth of them they
said frankly: "We are your foes and seek instant combat. You can choose
one of us at will to fight with you."
After acquainting himself as to who they were,
Jarasandha said: "Krishna, you are a cowherd and Arjuna is a mere boy.
Bhima is famous for his physical strength. So, I wish to fight with him."
Since Bhima was unarmed, Jarasandha chivalrously agreed to fight him without
weapons.
Bhima and Jarasandha were so equally matched in
strength that they fought with each other continuously for thirteen days
without taking rest or refreshments, while Krishna and Arjuna looked on in
alternating hope and anxiety.
On the fourteenth day, Jarasandha showed signs
of exhaustion, and Krishna prompted Bhima that the time had come to make an end
of him.
At once Bhima lifted him and whirling him round
and round a hundred times, dashed him to the earth and seizing his legs tore his
body asunder into two halves.
And Bhima roared in exultation. The two halves
at once joined and Jarasandha, thus made whole, leapt up into vigorous life and
again attacked Bhima.
Bhima aghast at the sight, was at a loss what
to do, when he saw Krishna pick up a straw, tear it into two, and cast the bits
in opposite directions.
Bhima took the hint, and when once again he
tore Jarasandha asunder he threw the two portions in opposite directions, so
that they could not come together and join. Thus did Jarasandha meet his end.
The captive princes were released and
Jarasandha's son was crowned King of Magadha. And Krishna, Bhima and Arjuna
returned to Indraprastha.
With Jarasandha gone, the way was now clear for
the Rajasuya which the Pandavas performed with great pomp and splendor.
Yudhishthira assumed the title of emperor.
The celebrations were marred by only one
incident. Towards the close of the festive celebrations, at the time of paying
the first honor, Sisupala behaved disrespectfully in the assembly of princes
and provoked a fight with Krishna in which he was slain. This story is told in
the next chapter.
THE practice of staging a walkout from an
assembly in protest against something is nothing new. We learn from the
Mahabharata that walkout was resorted to even in ancient times.
The India of those days consisted of a number
of independent states. Though there was one dharma and one culture throughout
the land, the autonomy of each state was scrupulosly respected.
Occasionally, some strong and ambitious monarch
would seek the assent of his fellow kings to his overlordship, which would
sometimes be given without question.
After receiving this assent he would perform a
grand Rajasuya sacrifice, which all the acquiescing kings would attend in token
of acknowledgement of his supremacy.
In accordance with this custom, the Pandavas
invited the other kings after the slaying of Jarasandha and performed the
Rajasuya.
The time came for doing the honors of the
occasion. The custom was to render first honor to the guest who was considered
most worthy of taking precedence over all others.
The question arose as to who should be honored
first. The grandsire was emphatically of the opinion that Sri Krishna, the king
of Dwaraka, should be honored first, which was also Yudhishthira's own opinion.
Yudhishthira followed the advice and under his
instructions Sahadeva offered to Sri Krishna the honors enjoined by tradition.
Sisupala, the king of Chedi, who hated Krishna as wickedness alone can hate
goodness, could not tolerate it.
He laughed aloud in derision and said:
"How ridiculous and unjust, but I am not surprised. The man who sought
advice was born in illegitimacy. (This was an insulting allusion to the sons of
Kunti) The man who gave advice was born of one who ever declines from high to
low. (This is in reference to the fact that Bhishma was born of Ganga, the
river naturally flowing from higher to lower levels.) And he who did the honors
was also born illegitimately. And what shall I say of the man honored! He is a
fool by birth and a cowherd by breeding. Dumb indeed must be the members of
this assembly if they have not a word to say to this! This is no place for
worthy men."
Some of the assembled princes applauded
Sisupala. Encouraged by their applause he addressed Yudhishthira:
"When there are so many kings gathered
here, it is a shame that you paid the first honor to Krishna. Not to render
respect where it is rightly due and to render it where it is not merited are
both equally grave offences. It is a pity that, for all your imperial
pretensions you are ignorant of this."
Getting more and more angry as he spoke, he
continued: "Ignoring the many kings and heroes who are here at your own
invitation and in malicious despise of them, you have paid royal honors to a
cowherd boor, a mere nobody. Vasudeva, the father of Krishna, was but a servant
of Ugrasena. He is not even of royal blood. Is this the place and the occasion
to show your vulgar partiality for Krishna, the son of Devaki? Is this worthy
of the children of Pandu? O sons of Pandu, you are raw, untaught youths,
altogether ignorant of the way to conduct a royal assembly. This dotard Bhishma
guided you foolishly and thus made fools of you. Krishna, why, Krishna is no
ruler at all! O Yudhishthira, why did you dare to do this wretch first honor in
this illustrious assemblage of kings? He has not even the merit of age and if
you admire grey hair, is not his father alive? You could not have honored him
as your preceptor surely, for your preceptor is Drona who is here in this
assembly. Is it as an expert in performing sacrifices that you have honored
him? It cannot be, for Vyasa, the great master, is present. It would have been better
even if you had paid the first honor to Bhishma, for dotard as he be, he has
still the merit of being the oldest man of your house. Your family teacher,
Kripacharya, is also present in this assembly. How could you then pay the first
honor to this cowherd? Ashwatthama, the hero who is expert in all sastras, is
here. How did you choose Krishna, forgetting him? Among the princes assembled
here, there is Duryodhana. And there is also Karna, the disciple of Parasurama.
Leaving him aside, out of childish partiality, you chose Krishna for the first
honor Krishna who is neither royal, nor heroic, nor learned, nor holy, nor even
hoary, who is nothing but a low cowherd! Thus you have dishonored us all, whom
you have invited here. O kings, it is not out of fear that we assented to
Yudhishthira's assuming the title of emperor. We personally do not much care
whether he is friend or foe. But, having heard much prate of his righteousness,
we wanted to see him uphold the flag of dharma. He has now wantonly dishonored us,
after all that talk of virtue and dharma. What virtue or dharma was there in
his giving priority of honor to this villain Krishna who killed Jarasandha in
an unjust manner? You should henceforth
call Yudhishthira an unrighteous person. O Krishna, what impudence on your part
to accept the undeserved honor which these misguided Pandavas did you! Did you
forget yourself? Or did you forget decent tradition? Or was it just a case of a
dog snatching at a remnant of food which nobody cared to claim or guard? Do you
not really see that this farce is a ghastly mockery and disgrace to yourself?
It is like the mockery of showing beautiful things to a blind man or offering a
maiden in marriage to a eunuch. Likewise, these kingly honors are really an
affront to you. It is now evident that the would-be emperor Yudhishthira, the
senile Bhishma, and this fellow Krishna are all made of the same stuff."
After Sisupala had spoken these harsh words, he
rose from his seat and walked out calling upon the other kings to join him in
resenting the insult. Many of them followed him.
Yudhishthira ran after them and tried to
appease them with sweet words of peace but in vain, for they were too angry to
be appeased.
Sisupala's aggressive vanity waxed to fighting
pitch, and there ensued a terrible fight between Krishna and Sisupala, in which
the latter was slain by his discus.
The Rajasuya was duly celebrated and
Yudhishthira recognised emperor.
AT the close of the Rajasuya, the princes,
priests and elders, who had gathered for the purpose, took leave and returned
to their places. Vyasa also came to say farewell. Dharmaputra rose and received
him with due respect and sat by his side.
The sage said: "O son of Kunti, you have
got the title of emperor which you eminently deserve. May the illustrious Kuru
race gain even greater glory through you. Give me leave to return to my
hermitage."
Yudhishthira touched the feet of his progenitor
and guru and said: "O master, you alone can remove my apprehensions. Wise
men have predicted from portents the happenings of catastrophic events. Has
this prediction been fulfilled by the death of Sisupala or is more to
ensue?"
Bhagavan Vyasa replied: "Dear child, much
sorrow and suffering is in store for thirteen years to come. The portents
indicate the destruction of the Kshatriya race and are not exhausted with the
death of Sisupala. It is far from it.
Hundreds of kings will perish, and the old order of things will pass
away. This catastrophe will spring out of the enmity between you and your
brothers on the one side and your cousins, the Dhritarashtras, on the other. It
will culminate in a war resulting in practical annihilation of the Kshatriya
race. No one can go against destiny. Be firm and steadfast in righteousness. Be
vigilant and rule the kingdom, farewell." And Vyasa blessed Yudhishthira.
Vyasa's words filled Yudhishthira with grief and with a great repugnance for
worldly ambition and life itself.
He informed his brothers of the prediction of
unavoidable racial disaster. Life seemed to him a bitter and weary business and
his destiny particularly cruel and unbearable.
Arjuna said: "You are a king and it is not
right for you to be agitated. Let us meet destiny with an undaunted front and
do our duty."
Yudhishthira replied: "Brothers, may God
protect us and give us wisdom. For my part, I take this vow never to speak
harshly to my brothers or to my kinsmen for the next thirteen years. I shall
avoid all pretext for conflict. I shall never give way to anger, which is the
root cause of enmity. It shall be my duty to give no occasion for anger or
pretext for hostility. Thus shall we profit by Bhagavan Vyasa's warning."
His brothers expressed cordial assent.
The first event of the series which culminated
in the devastating slaughter on the blood-sodden field of Kurukshetra and the
event which was the evil root of all, was the gambling match into which
Yudhishthira was inveigled by Sakuni, who was Duryodhana's evil genius.
Why did the wise and good Yudhishthira suffer
himself to be persuaded to this step which he must have known to hold evil
possibilities?
The main cause was his fixed resolve to be on
amicable terms with his cousins by not opposing their wishes. And a friendly
invitation to dice could not be summarily turned down, since the etiquette of
those days made it a point of honor to accept a game of equal hazard.
Out of his very anxiety to foster goodwill, he
laid open the field for the poisonous seed of hatred and death. Here is an
illustration of the futility of human plans, however well meant or wise,
without divine aid. Our best wisdom is vain against fate, and if destiny is
kind, our very follies turn to our advantage.
While Dharmaputra was care-worn with solicitude
to avoid a quarrel at all costs, Duryodhana was burning with jealousy at the
thought of the prosperity of the Pandavas that he had witnessed in their
capital during the Rajasuya sacrifice.
Duryodhana saw unprecedented wealth, attractive
and sight eluding crystal doors and many pieces of exquisite artistry in the
court-hall of Yudhishthira, all suggestive of great prosperity.
He also saw how glad the kings of many
countries were to become the allies of the Pandavas. This gave him unbearable
grief. He was so absorbed in sorrow at the prosperity of the Pandavas that he
did not at first hear Sakuni who was by his side, speaking to him.
Sakuni asked: "Why are you sighing? Why
are you tormented with sorrow?"
Duryodhana replied: "Yudhishthira,
surrounded by his brothers, is like Indra, the king of gods. Before the very
eyes of the assembled kings Sisupala was slain and not one of them had the
courage to come forward to avenge him. Like the vaisyas who live by trade, they
bartered their honor and jewels and riches for Yudhishthira's goodwill. How can
I avoid giving way to grief after seeing all this? What is the good of
living?"
Sakuni said: "O Duryodhana, the Pandavas
are your brothers. It is not right on your part to be jealous of their
prosperity. They are but enjoying their legitimate inheritance. By their good
fortune they have prospered and flourished without doing any injury to others.
Why should you be jealous? How can their strength and happiness diminish your
greatness? Your brothers and relations stand by you and obey you. Drona,
Ashwatthama and Karna are on your side. Why do you grieve when Bhishma, Kripa,
Jayadratha, Somadatta and myself are your supporters? You can conquer even the
whole world. Do not give way to grief."
At these words, Duryodhana said: "O
Sakuni, it is true that I have so many to support me. Why should we not wage
war and drive the Pandavas out of Indraprastha?"
But Sakuni said: "No. That will not be
easy, but I know a way to drive Yudhishthira out of Indraprastha without a
fight or the shedding of blood."
The eyes of Duryodhana lighted up, but it seemed
too good to be true. He asked incredulously: "Uncle, is it possible to
overcome the Pandavas without sacrificing any life? What is your plan?"
Sakuni replied: "Yudhishthira is fond of
the game of dice and being unskillful is altogether ignorant of its tricks and
the opportunity it offers to cleverer people. If we invite him to a game, he
would accept, following the tradition of the kshatriyas. I know the tricks of
the game and I shall play on your behalf. Yudhishthira will be helpless as a
child against me. I shall win his kingdom and wealth for you without shedding a
drop of blood."
DURYODHANA and Sakuni went to Dhritarashtra.
Sakuni opened the conversation. He said: "O king, Duryodhana is wan with
grief and anxiety. You are paying no attention to his unbearable sorrow. Why
this unconcern?"
Dhritarashtra who doted on his son embraced
Duryodhana and said: "I do not see why you should be disconsolate. What is
here that you already do not enjoy? The whole world is at your feet. When you
are surrounded by all kinds of pleasures like the very gods, why should you
pine in sorrow? You have learnt the Vedas, archery, and other sciences from the
best of masters. As my first born, you have inherited the throne. What is left
you to wish for? Tell me."
Duryodhana replied: "Father, like anybody
else, rich or poor, I eat and cover my nakedness, but I find life unbearable.
What is the use of leading such a life?"
And then he revealed in detail the envy and
hatred that were eating into his vitals and depriving life of its savour. He
referred to the prosperity he had seen in the capital of the Pandavas that to
him was bitterer than loss of his all would have been.
He burst out: "Contentment with one's lot
is not characteristic of a kshatriya. Fear and pity lower the dignity of kings.
My wealth and pleasures do not give me any satisfaction since I have witnessed
the greater prosperity of Yudhishthira. O king, the Pandavas have grown, while
we have shrunk."
Dhritarashtra said: "Beloved child, you
are the eldest son of my royal spouse and me and heir to the glory and
greatness of our renowned race. Do not cherish any hatred towards the Pandavas.
Sorrow and death will be the sole result of hatred of kith and kin, especially
when they are blameless. Tell me, why do you hate the guileless Yudhishthira?
Is not his prosperity ours too? Our friends are his friends. He has not the
least jealousy or hatred towards us. You are equal to him in heroism and
ancestry. Why should you be jealous of your brother? No. You should not be
jealous." Thus said the old king who, though overfond of his son, did not
occasionally hesitate to say what he felt to be just.
Duryodhana did not at all like the advice of
his father, and his reply was not very respectful.
He replied: "The man without common sense,
but immersed in learning, is like a wooden ladle immersed in savoury food which
it neither tastes nor benefits from. You have much learning of statecraft but
have no state wisdom at all, as your advice to me clearly shows. The way of the
world is one thing and the administration of a state is quite another. Thus has
Brihaspati said: 'Forbearance and contentment, though the duties of ordinary
men, are not virtues in kings.' The kshatriya's duty is a constant seeking of
victory."
Duryodhana spoke thus quoting maxims of
politics and citing examples and making the worse appear the better reason.
Then Sakuni intervened and set forth in detail
his infallible plan of inviting Yudhishthira to play the game of dice,
defeating him utterly and divesting him of his all without recourse to arms.
The wicked Sakuni wound up with saying:
"It is enough if you merely send for the son of Kunti to play the game of
dice. Leave the rest to me."
Duryodhana added: "Sakuni will win for me
the riches of the Pandavas without a fight, if you would only agree to invite
Yudhishthira."
Dhritarashtra said: "Your suggestion does
not seem proper. Let us ask Vidura about it. He will advise us rightly."
But Duryodhana would not hear of consulting
Vidura. He said to his father: "Vidura will only give us the platitudes of
ordinary morality, which will not help us to our object. The policy of kings
must be very different from the goody maxims of textbooks, and is sterner stuff
of which the test is success. Moreover, Vidura does not like me and is partial
to the Pandavas. You know this as well as I do."
Dhritarashtra said: "The Pandavas are
strong. I do not think it wise to antagonize them. The game of dice will only
lead to enmity. The passions resulting from the game will know no bounds. We
should not do it."
But Duryodhana was importunate: "Wise
statesmanship lies in casting off all fear and protecting oneself by one's own
efforts. Should we not force the issue while yet we are more powerful than they
are? That will be real foresight. A lost opportunity may never come again, and
it is not as though we invented the game of dice to injure the Pandavas. It is
an ancient pastime which kshatriyas have always indulged in, and if it will now
serve us to win our cause without bloodshed, where is the harm?"
Dhritarashtra replied: "Dear son, I have
grown old. Do as you like. But the line that you are taking does not appeal to
me. I am sure you will repent later. This is the work of destiny."
In the end, out-argued and through sheer
fatigue and hopelessness of dissuading his son, Dhritarashtra assented, and
ordered the servants to prepare a hall of games. Yet he could not forbear
consulting Vidura in secret about the matter.
Vidura said: "O king, this will
undoubtedly bring about the ruin of our race by raising up unquenchable
hate."
Dhritarashtra, who could not oppose the demand
of his son, said: "If fortune favors us I have no fear regarding this
game. If on the contrary, fortune goes against us, how could we help it? For,
destiny is all-powerful. Go and invite Yudhishthira on my behalf to come and
play dice." Thus commanded, Vidura went to Yudhishthira with an
invitation.
The weak-witted Dhritarashtra, over-persuaded,
yielded to the desire of his son through his attachment to him in spite of the
fact that he knew this was the way that destiny was working itself out.
AT THE sight of Vidura, Yudhishthira anxiously
inquired: "Why are you so cheerless? Is it well with all our relations in
Hastinapura? Are the king and the princes well?"
Vidura acquainted him with his mission:
"Everyone in Hastinapura is well. How fares it with you all? I have come
to invite you on behalf of King Dhritarashtra to come and see the newly erected
hall of games. A beautiful hall has been erected there even like yours. The
king would like you to come with your brothers, see everything, have a game of
dice and return to your capital."
Yudhishthira seemed to ask counsel of Vidura:
"Wagering games create quarrels among kshatriyas. A wise man will avoid
them if he can. We are ever abiding by your advice. What would you have us
do?"
Vidura replied: "Everyone is aware that
the playing of dice is the root of many evils. I did my best to oppose this
idea. Still the king has commanded me to invite you and I have come. You may do
as you like."
Despite this warning, Yudhishthira went to
Hastinapura with his brothers and retinue. It may be asked why the wise
Yudhishthira responded to the invitation.
Three reasons may be given. Men rush
consciously on their ruin impelled by lust, gambling and drink. Yudhishthira
was fond of gambling. The kshatriya tradition made it a matter of etiquette and
honor not to refuse an invitation to a game of dice.
There is a third reason too. True to the vow he
took at the time Vyasa had warned him of the quarrels that would arise leading
to destruction of the race. Yudhishthira would not give any occasion for
displeasure or complaint by refusing the invitation of Dhritarashtra.
These causes conspired with his natural
inclination to make Yudhishthira accept the invitation and go to Hastinapura.
The Pandavas and their retinue stopped in the magnificent palace reserved for
them.
Yudhishthira rested on the day of arrival, and
after the daily routine of duties, went to the hall of games the next morning.
After the exchange of customary greetings,
Sakuni announced to Yudhishthira that the cloth for playing the game had been
spread and invited him to it.
Yudhishthira at first said: "O king,
gambling is bad. It is not through heroism or merit that one succeeds in a game
of chance. Asita, Devala and other wise rishis who were well-versed in worldly
affairs have declared that gambling should be avoided since it offers scope for
deceit. They have also said that conquest in battle is the proper path for the
kshatriyas. You are not unaware of it."
But a part of himself, weakened by addiction to
gambling, was at war with his judgment and in his heart of hearts Yudhishthira
desired to play.
In his discussion with Sakuni, we see this
inner conflict. The keen-witted Sakuni
spotted this weakness at once and said: "What is wrong with the game?
What, in fact, is a battle? What is even a discussion between Vedic scholars?
The learned man wins victory over the ignorant. The better man wins in every
case. It is just a test of strength or skill, that is all, and there is nothing
wrong in it. As for the result, in every field of activity, the expert defeats
the beginner, and that is what happens in a game of dice also. But if you are
afraid, you need not play. But do not come out with this worn excuse of right
and wrong."
Yudhishthira replied: "Well, who is to
play with me?"
Duryodhana said: "Mine is the
responsibility for finding the stakes in the form of wealth and gems to play
the game. My uncle Sakuni will actually cast the dice in my stead."
Yudhishthira had thought himself secure of
defeating Duryodhana in play but Sakuni was a different matter, for Sakuni was
a recognised expert. So he hesitated and said: "It is not, I think,
customary for one man to play on behalf of another."
Sakuni retorted tauntingly: "I see that
you are forging another excuse."
Yudhishthira flushed and, casting caution to
the winds, replied: "Well, I shall play."
The hall was fully crowded. Drona, Kripa,
Bhishma, Vidura, and Dhritarashtra were seated there. They knew that the game
would end viciously and sat unhappily witnessing what they could not prevent.
The assembled princes watched the game with
great interest and enthusiasm. At first they wagered jewels and later gold,
silver and then chariots and horses. Yudhishthira lost continually.
When he lost all these, Yudhishthira staked his
servants and lost them also. He pledged his elephants and armies and lost them
too. The dice thrown by Sakuni seemed at every time to obey his will.
Cows, sheep, cities, villages and citizens and
all other possessions were lost by Yudhishthira. Still, drugged with
misfortune, he would not stop.
He lost the ornaments of his brothers and himself
as well as the very clothes they wore. Still bad luck dogged him, or rather the
trickery of Sakuni was too much for him.
Sakuni asked: "Is there anything else that
you can offer as wager?"
Yudhishthira said: "Here is the beautiful
sky-complexioned Nakula. He is one of my riches. I place him as a wager."
Sakuni replied: "Is it so? We shall be
glad to win your beloved prince." With these words Sakuni cast the dice
and the result was what he had foretold.
The assembly trembled.
Yudhishthira said: "Here is my brother
Sahadeva. He is famous for his infinite knowledge in all the arts. It is wrong
to bet him, still I do so. Let us play."
Sakuni cast the dice with the words:
"Here, I have played and I have won."Yudhishthira lost Sahadeva too.
The wicked Sakuni was afraid that Yudhishthira
might stop there. So be lashed Yudhishthira with these words: "To you,
Bhima and Arjuna, being your full brothers, are no doubt dearer than the sons
of Madri. You will not offer them, I know."
Yudhishthira, now thoroughly reckless and stung
to the quick by the sneering imputation that he held his step-brothers cheap,
replied: "Fool, do you seek to divide us? How can you, living an evil
life, understand the righteous life we lead?"
He continued: "I offer as wager the
ever-victorious Arjuna who successfully voyages across oceans of battle. Let us
play."
Sakuni answered: "I cast the dice"
and he played. Yudhishthira lost Arjuna also.
The stubborn madness of unbroken misfortune
carried Yudhishthira further and deeper. With tears in his eyes, he said:
"O king, Bhima, my brother, is our leader in battle. He strikes terror
into the heart of demons and is equal to Indra; he can never suffer the least
dishonor and he is peerless throughout the world in physical strength. I offer
him as a bet" and he played again and lost Bhima too.
The wicked Sakuni asked: "Is there any
thing else you can offer?"
Dharmaputra replied: "Yes. Here is myself.
If you win, I shall be your slave."
"Look. I win." Thus saying, Sakuni
cast the dice and won. After that Sakuni stood up in the assembly and shouted
the names of each of the five Pandavas and loudly proclaimed that they had all
become his lawful slaves.
The assembly looked on in stunned silence.
Sakuni alone turned toYudhishthira and said: "There is one jewel still in
your possession by staking which you can yet free yourself. Can you not
continue the game cffering your wife Draupadi as wager?"
Yudhishthira despairingly said: "I pledge
her," and he trembled unwittingly.
There was audible distress and agitation in
that part of the assembly where the elders sat. Soon great shouts of 'Fie!
Fie!' arose from all sides. The more emotional wept. Others perspired, and felt
the end of the world was come.
Duryodhana, his brothers and Karna shouted with
exultation. In that group Yuyutsu alone bent his head in shame and sorrow and
heaved a deep sigh. Sakuni cast the dice and shouted again: "I have
won."
At once Duryodhana turned to Vidura and said:
"Go and fetch Draupadi, the beloved wife of the Pandavas. She must hence
forward sweep and clean our house. Let her come without delay."
Vidura exclaimed: "Are you mad that you
rush to certain destruction? You are hanging by a slender thread over a
bottomless abyss! Drunk with success, you do not see it, but it will engulf
you!"
Having thus reprimanded Duryodhana, Vidura
turned to the assembly and said: "Yudhishthira had no right to stake
Panchali as by then he had himself already lost his freedom and lost all
rights. I see that the ruin of the Kauravas is imminent, and that, regardless
of the advice of their friends and well-wishers, the sons of Dhritarashtra are
on the path to hell."
Duryodhana was angry at these words of Vidura
and told Prathikami, his charioteer: "Vidura is jealous of us and he is
afraid of the Pandavas. But you are different. Go forth and bring Draupadi
immediately."
PRATHIKAMI went to Draupadi as ordered by his
master. He said to her: "O revered princess, Yudhishthira fell under the
spell of the game of dice and has wagered and lost even you. Now you belong to
Duryodhana. I have come by Duryodhana's command to take you to serve in his
household as maid servant, which will hereafter be your office."
Draupadi, the spouse of the emperor who had
performed Rajasuya, was dumbfounded, at this strange message. She asked:
"Prathikami, what do you say? Which prince would pledge his wife? Had he
nothing else to pawn?"
Prathikami answered: "It is because he had
already lost all other possessions and had nothing else left that he played
offering you as a stake."
Then he told her the whole story of how
Yudhishthira had lost all his wealth and had finally betted her, after having
first forfeited his brothers and himself.
Though the news was such as to break the heart
and kill the soul, still, Draupadi soon regained her fortitude and, with anger
blazing from her eyes, said: "O charioteer, return. Ask of him who played
the game whether in it he first lost himself, or his wife. Ask this question in
the open assembly. Bring me his answer and then you can take me."
Prathikami went to the assembly and, turning to Yudhishthira, asked of him the
question put by Draupadi.
Yudhishthira remained speechless.
Then Duryodhana bade Prathikami bring Panchali
herself there to question her husband. Prathikami went again to Draupadi and
humbly said: "Princess, the mean-minded Duryodhana desires you to go to
the assembly and ask your question yourself."
Draupadi answered: "No. Return to the
assembly and put the question and demand an answer."
Prathikami did so.
Enraged, Duryodhana turned to his brother
Duhsasana and said: "This man is a fool and is afraid of Bhima. Go and
fetch Draupadi even if you have to drag her here."
Thus commanded, the wicked Duhsasana at once
sped with joy on his errand. He proceeded to the place where Draupadi was,
shouting: "Come, why do you delay? You are now ours. Be not shy, beautiful
lady. Make yourself agreeable to us, now that you have been won by us. Come to
the assembly" and in his impatience, he bade as though to take her thither
by force.
Panchali rose trembling, heart-stricken with
sorrow and started to fly for refuge to the inner apartments of Dhritarashtra's
queen. Duhsasana darted after her, caught her by the hair and dragged her to
the assembly.
It is with a shudder of repugnance that we
relate how the sons of Dhritarashtra stooped to commit this vilest of deeds.
As soon as she came to the assembly, Draupadi
controlled her anguish and appealed to the elders gathered there:
"How could you consent to my being staked
by the king who was himself trapped into the game and cheated by wicked
persons, expert in the art? Since he was no longer a free man, how could he
stake anything at all?"
Then, stretching out her arms and raising her
flowing eyes in agonised supplication she cried in a voice broken with sobs:
"If you have loved and revered the mothers
who bore you and gave you suck, if the honor of wife or sister or daughter has
been dear to you, if you believe in God and dharma, forsake me not in this horror
more cruel than death"'
At this heart-broken cry, as of a poor fawn
stricken to death, the elders hung their heads in grief and shame. Bhima could
hold himself no longer. His swelling heart found relief in a roar of wrath that
shook the very walls, and turning to Yudhishthira he said bitterly:
"Even abandoned professional gamblers
would not stake the harlots who live with them, and you, worse than they, have
left the daughter of Drupada to the mercy of these ruffians. I cannot bear this
injustice. You are the cause of this great crime. Brother Sahadeva, bring fire.
I am going to set fire to those hands of his which cast the dice."
Arjuna however remonstrated gently with Bhima:
"You have never before spoken thus. The plot devised by our enemies is
entangling us also in its meshes and inciting us to wicked action. We should
not succumb and play their game. Beware."
With a superhuman effort, Bhima controlled his
anger.
Vikarna, the son of Dhritarashtra, could not
bear the sight of the agony of Panchali. He rose up and said: "O Kshatriya
heroes, why are you silent? I am a mere youth, I know, but your silence compels
me to speak. Listen. Yudhishthira was enticed to this game by a deeply plotted
invitation and he pledged this lady when he had no right to do so, because she
does not belong to Yudhishthira alone. For that reason alone the wager is
illegal. Besides, Yudhishthira had already lost his freedom, and being no
longer a free man, how could he have a right to offer her as a stake? And there
is this further objection. It was Sakuni who suggested her as a pledge, which
is against the rules of the game, under which neither player may demand a
specific bet. If we consider all these points, we must admit that Panchali has
not been legally won by us. This is my opinion."
When the young Vikarna spoke thus courageously,
the wisdom given by God to the members of the assembly suddenly illumined their
minds. There were great shouts of applause. They shouted: "Dharma has been
saved. Dharma has been saved."
At that moment Karna rose up and said:
"O Vikarna, forgetting that there are
elders in this assembly, you lay down the law though you are but a stripling.
By your ignorance and rashness you are injuring the very family which gave you
birth, just as the flame generated by the arani destroys its source, the stick.
It is an ill bird that fouls its own nest. At the very beginning, when
Yudhishthira was a free man, he forfeited all he possessed and that, of course,
included Draupadi. Hence, Draupadi had already come into Sakuni's possession.
There is nothing more to be said in the matter. Even the clothes they have on
are now Sakuni's property. O Duhsasana, seize the garments of the Pandavas and
the robes of Draupadi and hand them over to Sakuni."
As soon as they heard the cruel words of Karna,
the Pandavas, feeling that they had to stand the test of dharma to the bitter
end, flung off their upper garments to show that they were ready to follow the
path of honor and right at any cost.
Seeing this, Duhsasana went to Draupadi and
made ready to seize her clothes by force. All earthly aid had failed, and in
the anguish of utter helplessness, she implored divine mercy and succour:
"O Lord of the World," she wailed,
"God whom I adore and trust, abandon me not in this dire plight. You are
my sole refuge. Protect me." And she fainted away.
Then, as the wicked Duhsasana started his
shameful work of pulling at Panchali's robes and good men shuddered and averted
their eyes, even then, in the mercy of God a miracle occurred.
In vain Duhsasana toiled to strip off her
garments, for as he pulled off each, ever fresh garments were seen to clothe
her body, and soon a great heap of resplendent clothes was piled up before the
assembly till Duhsasana desisted and sat down in sheer fatigue.
The assembly trembled at this marvel and good
men praised God and wept. Bhima with quivering lips, loudly uttered this
terrible oath: "May I never go to the blest abode of my ancestors if I do
not rend the breast and drink the heart's blood of this sinful Duhsasana, this
shame of the Bharata race."
Suddenly, the howling of jackals could be
heard. Donkeys and carnivorous birds began to send forth weird dissonant cries
from all sides, portending calamities to come.
Dhritarashtra who realised that this incident would
be the cause of the destruction of his race, for once acted with wisdom and
courage. He called Draupadi to his side and attempted to soothe her with words
of gentleness and affection.
Then he turned to Yudhishthira and said:
"You are so blameless that you can have no enemies. Forgive in your
magnanimity the evil done by Duryodhana and dismiss all memory of it from your
mind. Take back your kingdom and riches and everything else and be free and
prosperous. Return to Indraprastha." And the Pandavas left that accursed
hall, bewildered and stunned, and seeing a miracle in this sudden release from
calamity. But it was too good to endure.
After Yudhishthira and his brothers had
departed, there was a long and angry discussion in the palace of the Kauravas.
Incited by Duhsasana, Sakuni and others, Duryodhana upbraided his father with
having frustrated their well-laid plans on the very threshold of success.
He quoted Brihaspati's aphorism that no device
could be considered wrong which had as its object the destruction of formidable
enemies.
He spoke in detail on the prowess of the
Pandavas and expressed his conviction that the only hope of overcoming the
Pandavas lay in guile and taking advantage of their pride and sense of honor.
No self-respecting kshatriya could decline an
invitation to a game of dice. Duryodhana secured his doting father's reluctant
and ominous approval to a plan to entice Yudhishthira once again to a game of
dice.
A messenger was accordingly dispatched after
Yudhisthira who had taken his departure for Indraprastha. He came up with
Yudhishthira before the latter had reached his destination and invited him on
behalf of king Dhritarashtra to come back.
On hearing this invitation, Yudhishthira said:
"Good and evil come from destiny and cannot be avoided. If we must play
again we must, that is all. A challenge to dice cannot in honor be refused. I
must accept it." Truly, as Sri Vyasa says: "There never was and never
can be an antelope of gold! Yet, Rama went in vain pursuit of what seemed one.
Surely, when calamities are imminent, the judgment is first destroyed."
Dharmaputra returned to Hastinapura and set
again for a game with Sakuni, though everyone in the assembly tried to dissuade
him.
He seemed a mere pawn moved by Kali to relieve
the burden of the world.
The stake played for was that the defeated
party should go with his brothers into exile to the forest and remain there for
twelve years and spend the thirteenth year incognito. If they were recognised
in the thirteenth year, they should go again into exile for twelve years.
Needless to say, Yudhishthira met with defeat
on this occasion also, and the Pandavas took the vows of those who are to go to
the forest.
All the members of the assembly bent down their
heads in shame.
WHEN the Pandavas set out for the forest, there
arose a great clamor of lamentation from people who thronged the streets and
climbed the roofs and towers and trees to see them go.
The princes, who, of yore, rode in jewelled
chariots or on lordly elephants to strains of auspicious music, now walked away
from their birthright on weary feet, accompanied by weeping crowds. On all
sides cries arose of: "Fie and Alas! Does not God see this from His
heaven?"
The blind Dhritarashtra sent for Vidura and
asked him to describe the departure of the Pandavas into exile. Vidura replied:
"Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti, went with his face covered with a cloth.
Bhima went behind with his eyes lowered on his arms. Arjuna proceeded
scattering sand on his path. Nakula and Sahadeva besmeared their bodies with
dust and closely followed Yudhishthira. Draupadi accompanied Dharmaputra, her
dishevelled hair covering her face and her eyes streaming with tears. Dhaumya,
the priest, went along with them singing the Sama hymns, addressed to Yama, the
Lord of Death."
When he heard these words, Dhritarashtra was
filled with ever-greater fear and anxiety than before. He asked: "What do
the citizens say?"
Vidura answered: "O great king, I shall
tell you in their own words what the citizens of all castes and creeds say:
'Our leaders have left us. Fie on the elders of the Kuru race who have suffered
such things to happen! The covetous Dhritarashtra and his sons have driven away
the sons of Pandu to the forest.' While the citizens blame us thus, the heavens
are vexed with cloudless lightning, and the distressed earth quakes, and there
are other evil portents."
While Dhritarashtra and Vidura were conversing
thus, the sage Narada suddenly appeared before them. Narada declared:
"Fourteen years from this day the Kauravas will become extinct as the
result of the crime committed by Duryodhana" and vanished from sight.
Duryodhana and his companions were filled with
fear and approached Drona with a prayer never to abandon them, whatever
happened.
Drona answered gravely: "I believe with
the wise that the Pandavas are of divine birth and unconquerable. Yet my duty
is to fight for the sons of Dhritarashtra who rely on me and whose salt I eat.
I shall strive for them, heart and soul. But destiny is all-powerful. The
Pandavas will surely return from exile, burning with anger. I should know what
anger is, for I dethroned and dishonored Drupada on account of my anger towards
him. Implacably revengeful, he has performed a sacrifice so that he might be
blessed with a son who would kill me. It is said Dhrishtadyumna is that son. As
destiny would have it, he is the brother-in-law and fast friend of the
Pandavas. And things are moving as foreordained. Your actions tend in the same
direction and your days are numbered. Lose no time in doing good while you may;
perform great sacrifice, enjoy sinless pleasures, give alms to the needy. Nemesis
will overtake you in the fourteenth year. Duryodhana, make peace
withYudhishthira this is my counsel to you. But, of course, you will do what
you like."
Duryodhana was not at all pleased with these
words of Drona.
Sanjaya asked Dhritarashtra: "O king, why
are you worried?"
The blind king replied: "How can I know
peace after having injured the Pandavas?"
Sanjaya said: "What you say is quite true.
The victim of adverse fate will first become perverted, utterly losing his
sense of right and wrong. Time, the all destroyer, does not take a club and
break the head of a man but by destroying his judgment, makes him act madly to
his own ruin. Your sons have grossly insulted Panchali and put themselves on
the path of destruction."
Dhritarashtra said: "I did not follow the
wise path of dharma and statesmanship but suffered myself to be misled by my
foolish son and, as you say, we are fast hastening towards the abyss."
Vidura used to advise Dhritarashtra earnestly.
He would often tell him: "Your son has committed a great wrong.
Dharmaputra has been cheated. Was it not your duty to turn your children to the
path of virtue and pull them away from vice? You should order even now that the
Pandavas get back the kingdom granted to them by you. Recall Yudhishthira from
the forest and make peace with him. You should even restrain Duryodhana by
force if he will not listen to reason."
At first Dhritarashtra would listen in sad
silence when Vidura spoke thus, for he knew Vidura to be a wiser man than
himself who wished him well. But gradually his patience wore thin with repeated
homilies.
One day, Dhritarashtra could stand it no
longer. "O Vidura," he burst out, "you are always speaking for
the Pandavas and against my sons. You do not seek our good. Duryodhana was born
of my loins. How can I give him up? What is the use of advising such an unnatural
course? I have lost my faith in you and do not need you anymore. You are free
to go to the Pandavas if you like." Then, turning his back on Vidura, he
retired to the inner apartments.
Vidura sorrowfully felt that the destruction of
the Kuru race was certain and, taking Dhritarashtra at his word, drove in a
chariot with fleet horses to the forest where the Pandavas lived.
Dhritarashtra was filled with anxious remorse.
He reflected thin himself: "What have I done? I have only strengthened
Duryodhana, while driving the wise Vidura to the Pandavas."
But later he called for Sanjaya and asked him
to bear a repentant message to Vidura imploring him to forgive the thoughtless
words of an unhappy father and to return.
Sanjaya hurried to the hermitage where the
Pandavas were staying and found them clad in deer-skin and surrounded by sages.
He also saw Vidura there and conveyed
Dhritarashtra's message adding that the
blind king would die broken-hearted if he did not return.
The soft-hearted Vidura, who was dharma
incarnate, was greatly moved and returned to Hastinapura.
Dhritarashtra embraced Vidura and the
difference between them was washed away in tears of mutual affection.
One day, the sage Maitreya came to the court of
Dhritarashtra and was welcomed with great respect.
Dhritarashtra craved his blessing and asked
him: "Revered sir, you have certainly met my beloved children, the
Pandavas, in Kurujangala. Are they well? Will mutual affection abide in our
family without any diminution?"
Maitreya said: "I accidentally met
Yudhishthira in the Kamyaka forest. The sages of the place had come to see him.
I learnt of the events that took place in Hastinapura, and I marvelled that
such things should have been permitted while Bhishma and yourself were alive."
Later, Maitreya saw Duryodhana who was also in
the court and advised him, for his own
good, not to injure but to make peace with the Pandavas who were not only
mighty themselves but related to Krishna and Drupada.
The obstinate and foolish Duryodhana merely
laughed, slapping his thighs in derision and, tearing the ground with his feet
and without granting an answer, turned away.
Maitreya grew angry and looking at Duryodhana
said: "Are you so arrogant and do you slap your thighs in derision of one
who wishes you well? Your thighs will be broken by a Bhima's mace and you will
die on the battlefield." At this Dhritarashtra jumped up, fell at the feet
of the sage and begged forgiveness.
Maitreya said: "My curse will not work if
your son makes peace with the Pandavas. Otherwise it will have effect,"
and strode indignantly out of the assembly.
As SOON as the news of the slaying of Sisupala
by Krishna reached his friend Salva, he became very angry and besieged Dwaraka
with a mighty force.
Krishna having not yet returned to Dwaraka, old
Ugrasena was in charge of the defence of the city. The sieges described in the
Mahabharata seem very much like those in wars of the present day.
Dwaraka was a strongly garrisoned fortress
built on an island and well provided with means of defence. Ample barracks had
been provided and there was an abundant supply of food and weapons and the
garrison included many illustrious warriors.
Ugrasena imposed a stringent ban upon drinking
and amusements generally for the period of the siege. All the bridges were
demolished and ships were forbidd enentry into ports in the realm.
Iron spikes were planted in the moats around
the fortress and the city walls kept in good repair.
All entrances to the city were guarded with
barbed wire and permits and passwords strictly controlled ingress and egress.
Thus no arrangements were neglected that could further strengthen the city
which nature had already made impregnable.
The pay of the soldiers was increased.
Volunteers for service were rigidly tested before being accepted as soldiers.
The siege was so rigorously pushed that the
garrison suffered great privations. Krishna, when he returned, was struck to
the heart at the sufferings of his beloved city and he compelled Salva immediately
to raise the siege, by attacking and defeating him.
It was only afterwards that Krishna learnt for
the first time of the events at Hastinapura, the game of dice and the exile of
the Pandavas. At once be set out for the forest where the Pandavas were living.
Along with Krishna went many, including men of
the Bhoja and Vrishni tribes, Dhrishtaketu, the king of the Chedi country, and
the Kekayas who were all devoted to the Pandavas.
They were filled with righteous indignation
when they heard of Duryodhana's perfidy and cried out that surely the earth
would drink the blood of such wicked people.
Draupadi approached Sri Krishna and, in a voice
drowned in tears and broken with sobs, told the story of her wrongs. She said:
"I was dragged to the assembly when I had but a single garment on my body.
The sons of Dhritarashtra insulted me most outrageously and gloated over my
agony. They thought that I had become their slave and accosted me and treated
me as one. Even Bhishma and Dhritarashtra forgot my birth and breeding and my
relationship to them. O Janardhana, even my husbands did not protect me from
the jeers and the ribald insults of those foul ruffians. Bhima's bodily
strength and Arjuna's Gandiva bow were alike of no avail. Under such supreme
provocation even weaklings would have found strength and courage to strike the
vile insulter dead. The Pandavas are renowned heroes and yet Duryodhana lives!
I, the daughter-in-law of the emperor Pandu, was dragged by my hair. I, the
wife of five heroes, was dishonored. O Madhusudana, even you had deserted
me." She stood trembling, utterly unable to continue, for the grief
convulsed her.
Krishna was deeply moved and he consoled the
weeping Draupadi. He said: "Those who tormented you will be stricken to
death in the bloody quagmire of a lost battle. Wipe your eyes. I solemnly
promise that your grievous wrongs shall be amply avenged. I shall help the
Pandavas in every way. You will become an empress. The heavens may fall, the
Himalayas may split in twain, the earth may crumble or the boundless sea may
dry up, but, I tell you verily, my words shall stand. I swear this," and
Krishna took a solemn vow before Draupadi.
This vow, it will be seen, was in perfect
accord with the purpose of the Lord's avatars, as declared in scriptures:
"For protecting the righteous, for
destroying the wicked and for firmly upholding the law, I am born on earth age
after age."
Dhrishtadyumna also consoled his sister and
told her how nemesis would overtake the Kauravas.
He said: "I will kill Drona, Sikhandin
will cause Bhishma's fall. Bhima will take the lives of the wicked Duryodhana
and his brothers. Arjuna will slay Karna, the charioteer's son."
Sri Krishna said: "When this calamity
befell you, I was in Dwaraka. Had I been in Hastinapur, I would never have
allowed this fraudulent game of dice to take place. Uninvited, I would have
gone there and stirred up Drona, Kripa and the other elders to a sense of duty.
I would, at all costs, have prevented this destructive play of dice. When
Sakuni was cheating you, I was fighting King Salva who had besieged my city. It
was only after I had defeated him that I came to know of the game of dice and
the subsequent sordid story. It grieves me that I am not able to remove your
sorrows immediately but you know, some water must be lost before a broken dam
is restored."
Then Krishna took leave
and returned to Dwaraka with Subhadra, the wife of Arjuna, and their child,
Abhimanyu.
Dhrishtadyumna went back to Panchala taking
with him the sons of Draupadi.
IN the beginning of their stay in the forest,
Bhima and Draupadi used, on occasions, to argue with Yudhishthira.
They would plead that only righteous anger
befitted a kshatriya and that patience and forbearance under slights and
insults were not worthy of him.
They would quote weighty authorities and argue
vehemently in support of their contention. Yudhishthira would firmly reply that
they should abide by the promise they had made and that forbearance was the
highest virtue of all.
Bhima was burning with impatience to attack and
kill Duryodhana immediately and win back the kingdom. He thought it unworthy of
warriors to continue to dwell tamely in the forest.
Bhima said to Yudhishthira: "You speak
like those who repeat Vedic mantras and are satisfied with the sound of the
words though ignorant of their meaning.
Your intellect has become confused. You are born as a kshatriya and yet
you do not think or behave like one. You have become a brahmana by temperament.
You know, the scriptures enjoin on a kshatriya sternness and enterprise. We
should not let the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra have their way. Vain is the
birth of a kshatriya who does not conquer his deceitful enemies. This is my
opinion, and to me, if we go to hell by killing a deceitful foe, such hell is
heaven. Your forbearance burns us worse than fire. It scorches Arjuna and
myself day and night, making us sleepless. Those miscreants have seized our
kingdom by fraud and are enjoying it, while you lie torpid like a gorged
python. You say that we should abide by our promise. How can the world-renowned
Arjuna live incognito? Can the Himalayas be hidden under a handful of grass?
How can the lion-hearted Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva live in hiding? Can the
famous Draupadi walk about unrecognized by others? Even if we do these
impossible things, the son of Dhritarashtra will find out through his spies.
Hence, this promise of ours is impossible of performance and has been put on us
merely to thrust us out again for another thirteen years. The sastras too
support me when I say that a filched promise is no promise. A handful of grass
thrown to a tired bull ought to be enough as expiation for breaking such a
promise. You should resolve to kill our enemies immediately. There is no higher
duty for a kshatriya."
Bhima was never tired of pressing his view.
Draupadi also would refer to the dishonor she had suffered at the hands of
Duryodhana, Karna and Duhsasana and would quote authorities from the scriptures
that would give Yudhishthira anxiety to think.
He would sometimes answer with common maxims of
politics and refer to the relative strength of the parties. He would say: "Our enemy has such
adherents as Bhurisravas, Bhishma, Drona, Karna and Aswatthama. Duryodhana and
his brothers are expert in warfare. Many feudatory princes, as well as mighty
monarchs, are now on their side. Bhishma and Drona, indeed, have no respect for
Duryodhana's character, but will not give him up and are prepared to sacrifice
their lives on his side in the battlefield. Karna is a brave and skilful
fighter, well versed in the use of all the weapons. The course of war is
unpredictable and success is uncertain. There is no use in being hasty."
Thus Yudhishthira managed with difficulty to restrain the impatience of the
younger Pandavas.
Later, as advised by Vyasa, Arjuna went to the
Himalayas to practise austerities for the purpose of getting new weapons from
the devas. Arjuna took leave of his brothers and went to Panchali to bid her
farewell.
She said: "O Dhananjaya, may you prosper
in your mission. May God give you all that Kuntidevi hoped and wished for when
you were born. The happiness, life, honor and prosperity of us all depend on
you. Return after acquiring new weapons." Thus Panchali sent him forth
with auspicious words.
It is noteworthy that though the voice was
Draupadi the wife's, yet the benediction was Kunti the mother's for the words
were: "May God give all that Kuntidevi wished and hoped for when you were
born."
Arjuna passed through dense forests and reached
the mountain of Indrakila, where he met an old brahmana. The ascetic smiled and
spoke affectionately to Arjuna:
"Child, you are clad in armor and carry
weapons. Who are you? Weapons are of no use here. What do you seek in this garb
of a kshatriya in this abode of ascetics and saints who have conquered anger
and passion?" That was Indra, the king of gods, who came to have the
pleasure of meeting his son.
Arjuna bowed to his father and said: "I
seek arms. Bless me with weapons." Indra replied: "O Dhananjaya, what
is the use of weapons? Ask for pleasures or seek to go to higher worlds for
enjoyment."
Arjuna answered: "O king of gods, I do not
seek pleasures of higher worlds. I have come here after leaving Panchali and my
brothers in the forest. I seek but weapons."
The thousand-eyed said: "If you be blessed
by the vision of god Siva, the three-eyed god, and obtain his grace, you will
receive divine weapons. Do penance unto Siva."
Thus saying Indra disappeared. Then, Arjuna
went to the Himalayas and did penance to obtain the grace of Siva.
Siva under the guise of a hunter and
accompanied by his divine spouse Umadevi, entered the forest in pursuit of
game.
The chase grew fast and furious, and presently
a wild boar started charging Arjuna, who shot an arrow into it with his Gandiva
bow at the same moment that the hunter Siva transfixed it with a shaft from his
Pinaka bow.
Arjuna shouted in loud voice: "Who are
you? Why are you ranging in this forest with your wife? How dare you shoot at
the game I had aimed at?"
The hunter replied as though in contempt:
"This forest, full of game, belongs to us, who live in it. You do not look
tough enough to be a forester. Your limbs and bearing bespeak a soft luxurious
life. It is rather for me to ask what you are doing here." He also added
that it was his shaft that had killed the boar, and that if Arjuna thought
differently be was welcome to fight about it.
Nothing could please Arjuna better. He jumped
up and showered snake-like arrows at Siva. To his amazement, they seemed to
have no effect on the hunter and fell back hurtless like storm-driven rain from
a mountain peak.
When he had no more arrows, he started to
strike Siva with his bow. But the hunter seemed not to heed it and wrenched
with ease the bow out of Arjuna's hand and burst into laughter.
Arjuna, who had been disarmed with humiliating
ease by one who seemed an ordinary hunter of the forest, was struck with
amazement, almost amounting to doubt. But undaunted, he drew his sword and
continued the combat.
The sword was split into pieces on the hunter's
adamantine frame. There was now nothing to do but to grapple with the
formidable unknown. But here again he was outmatched.
The hunter caught him in an iron clasp so close
that Arjuna was quite helpless. Worsted
and overmastered, Arjuna humbly sought divine aid and meditated on Siva. As he
did so, a light broke on his troubled mind, and at once he knew who the hunter
really was.
He fell at the feet of the Lord and, in a
broken voice of repentance and adoration he prayed for forgiveness. "I
forgive you," said Siva smilingly and gave him back his Gandiva bow, as
well as the other weapons, of which he had been deprived. He also bestowed on
Arjuna the marvellous Pasupata weapon.
Arjuna's body, battered in the unequal combat,
was made whole and perfect by the divine touch of the three-eyed god and became
a hundred fold stronger and more brilliant than before.
"Go to heaven and render dutiful respect
to your father Indra," said Siva and vanished from view like the setting
sun.
Arjuna was overcome with joy and exclaimed:
"Have I really seen the Lord face to face and have I been blessed with his
divine touch? What more do I need?"
At that moment, Matali, the charioteer of
Indra, came there with his chariot and took Arjuna to the kingdom of the gods.
BALARAMA and Krishna came with their retinue to
the abode of the Pandavas in the forest. Deeply distressed by what he saw,
Balarama said to Krishna:
"O Krishna, it would seem that virtue and
wickedness bear contrary fruit in this life. For see, the wicked Duryodhana is
ruling his kingdom clad in silk and gold, while the virtuous Yudhishthira lives
in the forest wearing the bark of trees. Seeing such unmerited prosperity and
undeserved privation, men have lost their faith in God. The praise of virtue in
the sastras seems mere mummery when we see the actual results of good and evil
in this world. How will Dhritarashtra justify his conduct and defend himself
when he is face to face with the god of death? Even the mountains and the earth
weep at the sight of the blameless Pandavas dwelling in the forests with the
blessed Draupadi, born from the sacrificial fire."
Satyaki, who was seated near, said: "O
Balarama, this is no time for lamenting. Should we wait till Yudhishthira asks
us to do our duty for the Pandavas? While you and Krishna and all other
relations are living, why should the Pandavas waste their precious years in the
forest? Let us collect our forces and attack Duryodhana. With the army of the
Vrishnis, we are surely strong enough to destroy the Kauravas. Why, where is
the need to foil Karna's vaunted archery and cut off his head. Let us kill
Duryodhana and his adherents in the battlefield and hand over the kingdom to
Abhimanyu if the Pandavas wish to keep their word and stay in the forest. This
is good for them and befits us as men of valor."
Vasudeva, who was listening carefully to this
speech, said: "What you say is true. But the Pandavas would not like to
receive from the hands of others what they have not won by their own efforts.
Draupadi for one, born of a heroic race as she is, would not hear of it.
Yudhishthira will never give up the path of righteousness for love or fear.
When the stipulated period of exile is over the kings of Panchala, Kekaya and
Chedi and ourselves will unite our forces to help the Pandavas to conquer their
enemies."
Yudhishthira was delighted at these words of
Krishna. "Sri Krishna knows my mind," said he. "Truth is greater
than power or prosperity and has to be guarded at all costs and not the
kingdom. When he wants us to fight, he shall find us ready. The heroes of the
Vrishni race may now return with the certainty that we shall meet again when
the time is ripe." With these words Yudhishthira gave them leave to
return.
Arjuna was still away in the Himalayas and
Bhima's anxiety and impatience became well nigh insupportable. He said to
Yudhishthira:
"You know that our life depends on Arjuna.
He has been away very long, and we have had no tidings of him. If he should be
lost to us, then neither the king of Panchala, nor Satyaki nor even Sri Krishna
can save us, and I for one cannot survive that loss. All this we owe to that
mad game of dice, our sorrows and sufferings, as well as the growing strength
of our foes. To be dwelling in the forest is not the duty enjoined on a
kshatriya. We should immediately recall Arjuna and wage war with the sons of
Dhritarashtra, with the help of Sri Krishna. I shall be satisfied only when the
wicked Sakuni, Karna and Duryodhana are slain. After this clear duty is done,
you may, if you like, return to the forest and live a life of asceticism. It is
not a sin to kill by stratagem an enemy who has resorted to stratagem. I have
heard that the Atharva Veda has incantations, which can compress time and
reduce its span. If we could, by such means, squeeze thirteen years into
thirteen days, we would be perfectly justified in doing so, and you will permit
me on the fourteenth day to kill Duryodhana."
Hearing these words of Bhima, Dharmaputra
affectionately embraced him and sought to restrain his impetuosity.
"Beloved brother, as soon as the period of thirteen years is over, Arjuna,
the hero, with the Gandiva bow, and yourself will fight and kill Duryodhana. Be
patient till then. Duryodhana and his followers, who are sunk in sin, cannot
escape. Be assured of it." While the sorrow-stricken brothers were thus
engaged in debate, the great sage Brihadaswa came to the hermitage of the
Pandavas and was received with the customary honors.
After a while, Yudhishthira said to him:
"Revered sage, our deceitful enemies, drew us into this game of dice and
cheated us of our kingdom and riches, and drove my heroic brothers, as well as
Panchali and myself, to the forest. Arjuna, who left us a long time ago to get
divine weapons, has not returned as yet and we miss him sorely. Will he return
with divine arms? And when will he be back? Surely never was there in this
world a man who suffered so much sorrow as myself."
The great sage replied: "Do not let your
mind dwell on sorrow. Arjuna will return with divine weapons and you will
conquer your enemies in the fitness of time. You say that there is no one in
this world that is as unfortunate as you. Now, that is not true, though
everyone, tried by adversity, is inclined to claim pre-eminence in sorrow,
because things felt are more than things heard or seen. Have you heard of king
Nala of Nishadha? He suffered more sorrows than yourself even in the forest. He
was deceived by Pushkara at a game of dice. He lost his wealth and kingdom and
had to go in exile to the forest. Less fortunate than you, he had not with him
his brothers or brahmanas. The influence of Kali, the spirit of the dark age,
deprived him of his discrimination and good sense. And not knowing what he was
doing, he deserted his wife who had accompanied him, and wandered about in the
forest, solitary and almost mad. Now, compare your state with his. You have the
company of your heroic brothers and devoted wife and are supported by a few
learned brahmanas in your adversity. Your mind is sound and steady. Self-pity
is natural, but you are really not so badly off."
The sage then narrated the life of Nala which
constitutes twenty-eight chapters of the great epic. The sage concluded with
these words:
"O Pandava, Nala was tried by sorrows more
agonising than yours, yet he triumphed over them all and his life ended
happily. You have the alleviations of unclouded intellect and the society of
your nearest and dearest. You spend much of your time in exalted contemplation
of dharma and in holy converse with brahmanas who are learned in the Vedas and
Vedantas. Bear your trials and tribulations with fortitude, for they are the
lot of man and not peculiar to you."
Thus did the sage Brihadaswa console
Yudhishthira.
THE brahmanas, who had been with Yudhishthira
in Indraprastha, had followed him to the forest. It was difficult to maintain
such a large establishment.
Some time after Arjuna had gone on his quest of
Pasupata, a brahmana sage named Lomasa came to the abode of the Pandavas.
He advised Yudhishthira to minimize his retinue
before going on pilgrimage as it would be difficult to move freely from place
to place with a large following.
Yudhishthira, who had long felt that
difficulty, announced to his followers that such of them, as were unaccustomed
to hardship and to hard and scanty fare and those who had followed merely in
token of loyalty, might return to Dhritarashtra or, if they preferred it, go to
Drupada, the King of Panchala.
Later, with a greatly reduced retinue, the
Pandavas started on a pilgrimage to holy places, acquainting themselves with
the stories and traditions relating to each. The story of Agastya was one such.
Agastya, it is said, once saw some ancestral
spirits dangling head down and asked them who they were and how they had come
to be in that unpleasant plight.
They replied: "Dear child, we are your
ancestors. If you discharge not your debt to us by marrying and begetting
progeny, there will be no one after you to offer us oblations. We have,
therefore, resorted to this austerity, in order to persuade you to save us from
this peril."
When Agastya heard this, he decided to marry.
The king of the country of Vidarbha was
childless and, so, careworn. He repaired to Agastya to get his blessing. In
granting him the boon, Agastya announced that the king would be the father of a
beautiful girl, who, he stipulated should be given in marriage to him.
Soon the queen gave birth to a girl who was
named Lopamudra. She grew with years into a maiden of such rare beauty and
charm that she became celebrated in the kshatriya world. But no prince dared to
woo her for fear of Agastya.
Later, the sage Agastya came to Vidarbha and
demanded the hand of the king's daughter. The king was reluctant to give the
delicately nurtured princess in marriage to a sage leading the primitive life
of a forester but he also feared the anger of the sage if he said nay, and was
plunged in sorrow.
Lopamudra, greatly concerned, discovered the
cause of her parent's unhappiness and expressed her readiness, nay her desire,
to marry the sage.
The king was relieved, and the marriage of
Agastya and Lopamudra was celebrated in due course. When the princess set out
to accompany the sage, he bade her give up her costly garments and valuable jewels.
Unquestioningly Lopamudra distributed her
priceless jewels and garments amongst her companions and attendants, and
covering herself in deerskin and garments of bark, she joyfully accompanied the
sage.
During the time Lopamudra and Agastya spent in
tapas and meditation at Gangadwara, a strong and abiding love sprang up between
them. For conjugal life, Lopamudra's modesty shrank from the lack of privacy in
a forest hermitage. And one day, with blushing and humbleness she expressed her
mind to her husband.
She said: "My desire is that I may have
the royal bedding, the beautiful robes and the valuable jewels I had when I was
in my father's place and that you too may have splendid garments and ornaments.
And then we shall enjoy life to our heart's content."
Agastya smilingly replied: "I have neither
the wealth nor the facilities to provide what you want. Are we not beggars
living in the forest?"
But Lopamudra knew her lord's yogic power, and
said: "Lord, you are all-powerful by the strength of your austerities. You
can get the wealth of the whole world in a moment if you but will."
Agastya said that no doubt that was so, but, if
he spent his austerities in gaining things of such little moment as riches,
they would soon dwindle to nothing.
She replied: "I do not wish that. What I
desire is that you should earn in the ordinary way sufficient wealth for us to
live in ease and comfort."
Agastya consented and set out as an ordinary
brahmana to beg of various kings. Agastya went to a king who was reputed to be
very wealthy. The sage told the king: "I have come in quest of wealth.
Give me what I seek, without causing any loss or injury to others."
The king presented a true picture of the income
and expenditure of the State and told him he was free to take what he deemed
fit. The sage found from the accounts that there was no balance left.
The expenditure of a State turns out always to
be at least equal to its income. This seems to have been the case in ancient
times also.
Seeing this, Agastya said: "To accept any gift
from this king, will be a hardship to the citizens. So, I shall seek
elsewhere," and the sage was about to leave. The king said that he would
also accompany him and both of them went to another State where also they found
the same state of affairs.
Vyasa thus lays down and illustrates the maxim
that a king should not tax his subjects more than necessary for rightful public
expenditure and that if one accepts as gift anything from the public revenues,
one adds to the burden of the subjects to that extent.
Agastya thought he had better go to the wicked
asura Ilvala and try his luck. Ilvala
and his brother Vatapi cherished an implacable hatred towards brahmanas. They
had curious plan for killing them. Ilvala would, with effective hospitality,
invite a brahmana to a feast.
By the power of his magic he would transform
his brother Vatapi into a goat and he would kill this pseudo-goat for food and
serve its meat to the guest. In those days, the brahmanas used to eat meat. The
feast over, Ilvala would invoke his brother Vatapi to come out, for he had the
art of bringing back to life those whom he had killed.
And Vatapi, who as food had entered the vitals
of the unlucky brahmana, would spring up sound and whole and rend his way out
with fiendish laughter, of course killing the guest in doing so.
In this manner, many brahmanas had died. Ilvala
was very happy when he learnt that Agastya was in the neighborhood, since he
felt that here was a good brahmana delivered into his hands.
So, he welcomed him and prepared the usual
feast. The sage ate heartily of Vatapi transformed into a goat, and it only
remained for Ilvala to call out Vatapi for the rending scene. And, as usual,
Ilvala repeated the magic formula and shouted: "Vatapi come out!"
Agastya smiled and, gently rubbing his stomach,
said: "O Vatapi, be digested in my stomach for the peace and good of the
world." Ilvala shouted again and again in frantic fear: "O Vatapi,
come forth."
There was no response and the sage explained
the reason. Vatapi had been digested. The trick had been tried once too often.
The asura bowed to Agastya and surrendered to
him the riches he sought. Thus was the sage able to satisfy Lopamudra's desire.
Agastya asked her what she would prefer whether ten ordinarily good sons or one
super-good son with the strength of ten.
Lopamudra replied she would like to have one
exceptionally virtuous and learned son. The story goes that she was blessed
with such a gifted son.
Once the Vindhyas became jealous of the Meru
Mountain and tried to grow in stature, obstructing the sun, the moon and the
planets. Unable to prevent this danger, the gods sought aid from Agastya. The
sage went to the Vindhya Mountain and said:
"Best of mountains, stop you’re growing
till I cross you on my way to the south and return north again. After my
return, you can grow, as you like. Wait till then." Since the Vindhya
Mountain respected Agastya, it bowed to his request.
Agastya did not return north at all, but
settled in the south and so the Vindhyas remain arrested in growth to this day.
Such is the story as narrated in the Mahabharata.
IT is an error to think that it is easy for a
person to lead a life of chastity if he is brought up in complete ignorance of
sensual pleasures. Virtue guarded only by ignorance is very insecure as
illustrated by the following story. It is told in the Ramayana also, but not in
the same detail.
Vibhandaka who was resplendent like Brahma, the
Creator, lived with his son Rishyasringa in a forest. The latter had not come
across any mortal, man or woman, except his father.
The country of Anga was once afflicted with a
dire famine. Crops had withered for want of rain and men perished for lack of
food. All living things were in distress. Romapada, the king of the country,
approached the brahmanas to advise him of some means of saving the kingdom from
famine.
The brahmanas replied: "Best of kings,
there is a young sage called Rishyasringa who lives a life of perfect chastity.
Invite him to our kingdom. He has won the power, by his austerities, of
bringing rain and plenty wherever he goes."
The king discussed with his courtiers the means
by which Rishyasringa could be brought from the hermitage of the sage
Vibhandaka. In accordance with their advice, he called together the most
charming courtesans of the city and entrusted them with the mission of bringing
Rishyasringa to Anga.
The damsels were in a quandary. On the one
hand, they feared to disobey the king. On the other, they also feared the
sage's wrath. Finally, they made up their minds to go, relying on Providence to
help them, in achieving the good work of rescuing the stricken land from
famine.
They were suitably equipped for their
enterprise before being sent to the hermitage.
The leader of this band of courtesans made a beautiful garden of a big
boat, with artificial trees and creepers, with an imitation ashrama in the
center.
She had the boat moored in the river near
Vibhandaka's hermitage, and the courtesans visited the hermitage with quaking
hearts. Luckily for them, the sage was not at home. Feeling that this was the
opportune moment, one of the beautiful damsels went to the sage's son.
She thus addressed Rishyasringa: "Great
sage, are you well? Have you sufficient roots and fruits? Are the penances of
the rishis of the forest proceeding satisfactorily? Is your father's glory
constantly growing? Is your own study of the Vedas progressing?" This was
how rishis used to accost one another in those days.
The youthful anchorite had never before seen
such a beautiful human form or heard such a sweet voice.
The instinctive yearning for society,
especially of the opposite sex, though he had never seen a woman before, began
to work on his mind from the moment he beheld that graceful form.
He thought that she was a young sage like himself,
and felt a strange irrepressible joy surging up in his soul. He answered,
fixing eyes on his interlocutor:
"You seem to be a bright brahmacharin. Who
are you? I bow to you. Where is your hermitage? What are the austerities you
are practising?" and he rendered her the customary offerings.
She said to him: "At a distance of three
yojanas from here is my ashrama. I have brought fruits for you. I am not fit to
receive your prostration, but I shall return your greetings and salutation in
the way customary with us." She embraced him warmly, fed him with the
sweets she had brought, decorated him with perfumed garlands, and served him
with drinks.
She embraced him again, saying that that was
their way of salutation to honored guests. He thought it a very agreeable way.
Shortly after, fearing the return of the sage
Vibhandaka, the courtesan took her leave of Rishyasringa saying it was time for
her to perform the agnihotra sacrifice and gently slipped out of the hermitage.
When Vibhandaka returned to the hermitage, he
was shocked to see the place so untidy with sweet meats scattered all over, for
the hermitage had not been cleansed. The shrubs and creepers looked draggled
and untidy.
His son's face had not its usual lustre but
seemed clouded and disturbed as by a storm of passion. The usual simple duties
of the hermitage had been neglected.
Vibhandaka was troubled and asked his son:
"Dear boy, why have you not yet gathered the sacred firewood? Who has
broken these nice plants and shrubs? Has the cow been milked? Has anyone been
here to serve you? Who gave you this strange garland? Why do you appear
worried?"
The simple and ingenuous Rishyasringa replied:
"A brahmacharin of wonderful form was here. I cannot describe his
brightness and beauty or the sweetness of his voice. My inner being has been
filled with indescribable happiness and affection by listening to his voice and
looking at his eyes. When he embraced me, which it seems is his customary
greeting, I experienced a joy which I have never felt before, no, not even when
eating the sweetest fruits," and then he described to his father the form,
beauty and the doings of his fair visitor.
Rishyasringa added wistfully: "My body
seems to burn with desire for the company of that brahmacharin and I should
like to go and find him and bring him here somehow. How can I give you any idea
about his devotion and brightness? My heart pants to see him."
When Rishyasringa had thus brokenly expressed
yearnings and disturbances to which he had hitherto been a stranger, Vibhandaka
knew what had occurred. He said: "Child, this was no brahmacharin that you
saw, but a malignant demon who sought, as demons do, to beguile us and hinder
our penances and austerities. They take recourse to many kinds of tricks and
stratagems for the purpose. Do not let them come near you."
After that Vibhandaka searched in vain for
three days in the forest to find out the wretches who had done this injury, and
returned baffled it his purpose.
On another occasion, when Vibhandaka had gone
out of the hermitage to bring roots and fruits, the courtesan again came softly
to the place where Rishyasringa was seated. As soon as he saw her at a
distance, Rishyasringa jumped up and ran to greet her gushingly, as pent up
water surges out of a reservoir that has sprung a leak.
Even without waiting for prompting this time,
Rishyasringa went near her and after the customary salutation said: "O shining brahmacharin, before my
father returns let us go to your hermitage."
This was just what she had hoped and worked for.
And together they entered the boat, which had been made to look like a
hermitage. As soon as the young sage had entered, the boat was freed from its
moorings and floated easily down with its welcome freight to the kingdom of
Anga.
As might be expected, the young sage had a
pleasant and interesting journey and when he reached Anga, he certainly knew
more about the world and its ways than he had done in the forest.
The coming of Rishyasringa delighted Romapada
infinitely and he took his welcome guest to the luxuriously provided inner
apartments specially prepared for him.
As foretold by the brahmanas, rain began to
pour the instant Rishyasringa set his foot in the country. The rivers and the
lakes were full and the people rejoiced. Romapada gave his daughter Shanta in
marriage to Rishyasringa.
Though all ended as he had planned, the king
was uneasy in his mind, for he was afraid that Vibhandaka might come in search
of his son and pronounce a curse on him.
So, he sought to mollify Vibhandaka by lining
the route he would take with cattle and kind and by instructing the cowherds in
charge to say that they were Rishyasringa's servants and had come to welcome
and honor their master's father and place themselves at his service.
Not finding his son anywhere in the hermitage,
the enraged Vibhandaka thought that this might be the work of the king of Anga.
He crossed intervening rivers and villages and
marched to the capital of the king as if to burn him in his anger. But as at
each stage of the journey he saw magnificent cattle which belonged to his son
and was respectfully welcomed by his son's servants, his angry mood passed
gradually as he approached the capital.
When he came to the capital, he was received
with great honor and taken to the king's palace where he saw his son sitting in
state like the king of the gods in heaven. He saw by his side his wife, the
princess Shanta, whose great beauty soothed and pleased him.
Vibhandaka blessed the king. He laid this
injunction on his son: "Do all that will please this king. After the birth
of a son, come and join me in the forest." Rishyasringa did as his father
bade him.
Lomasa concluded the story with these words
addressed to Yudhishthira: "Like Damayanti and Nala, Sita and Rama,
Arundhati and Vasishtha, Lopamudra and Agastya, and Draupadi and yourself,
Shanta and Rishyasringa repaired to the forest in the fullness of time and
spent their lives in mutual love and the worship of God. This is the hermitage
where Rishyasringa. lived. Bathe in these waters and be purified." The
Pandavas bathed there and performed their devotions.
IN the course of their wanderings, the Pandavas
reached the hermitage of Raibhya on the banks of the Ganga.
Lomasa told them the story of the place:
"This is the ghat where Bharata, the son of Dasaratha, bathed. These
waters cleansed Indra of the sin of killing Vritra unfairly. Here also
Sanatkumara became one with God. Aditi, the mother of the gods, offered
oblations on this mountain and prayed to be blessed with a son. O Yudhishthira,
ascend this holy mountain and the misfortunes, which have cast a cloud on your
life, will vanish. Anger and passion will be washed off if you bathe in the
running waters of this river."
Then Lomasa expatiated in greater detail on the
sanctity of the place.
He began the story thus: "Yavakrida, the
son of a sage, met with destruction in this very place."
He continued: "There lived in their
hermitages two eminent brahmanas, named Bharadwaja and Raibhya, who were dear
friends. Raibhya and his two sons, Paravasu and Arvavasu, learnt the Vedas and
became famed scholars. Bharadwaja devoted himself wholly to the worship of God.
He had a son named Yavakrida who saw with jealousy and hatred that the
brahmanas did not respect his ascetic father as they did the learned Raibhya.
Yavakrida practised hard penance to gain the grace of Indra. He tortured his
body with austerities and thus awakened the compassion of Indra, who appeared
and asked him why he so mortified his flesh."
Yavakrida replied: "I wish to be more
learned in the Vedas than any has ever been before. I wish to be a great
scholar. I am performing these austerities to realise that desire. It takes a
long time and involves much hardship to learn the Vedas from a teacher. I am
practising austerities to acquire that knowledge directly. Bless me."
Indra smiled and said: "O brahmana, you
are on the wrong path. Return home, seek a proper preceptor and learn the Vedas
from him. Austerity is not the way to learning. The path is study and study
alone." With these words Indra vanished. But the son of Bharadwaja would
not give up.
He pursued his course of austerities with even
greater rigor, to the horror and the distress of the gods. Indra again
manifested himself before Yavakrida and warned him again:
"You have taken the wrong path to acquire
knowledge. You can acquire knowledge only by study. Your father learnt the
Vedas by patient study and so can you. Go and study the Vedas. Desist from this
vain mortification of the body."
Yavakrida did not heed even this second warning
of Indra and announced defiantly that if his prayer were not granted, he would
cut off his limbs one by one and offer them as oblations to the fire. No, he
would never give up.
He continued his penance. One morning, during
his austerities, when he went to bathe in the Ganga, be saw a gaunt old
brahmana on the bank, laboriously throwing handfuls of sand into the water.
Yavakrida asked: "Old man, what are you
doing?" The old man replied: "I am going to build a dam across this
river. When, with handful after handful, I have built a dam of sand here,
people can cross the river with ease. See how very difficult it is at present
to cross it. Useful work, isn't it?"
Yavakrida laughed and said: "What a fool
you must be to think you can build a dam across this mighty river with your
silly handfuls of sand! Arise and take to some more useful work."
The old man said: "Is my project more
foolish than yours of mastering the Vedas not by study but by
austerities?" Yavakrida now knew that the old man was Indra. More humble
this time, Yavakrida earnestly begged Indra to grant him learning as a personal
boon.
Indra blessed, and comforted Yavakrida with the
following words:
"Well, I grant you the boon you seek. Go
and study the Vedas; you will become learned."
YAVAKRIDA studied the Vedas and became learned.
He grew vain with the thought that he had acquired the knowledge of the Vedas
through the boon of Indra and not through human tutelage.
Bharadwaja did not like this and feared that
his son might ruin himself by slighting Raibhya. He thought it necessary to
warm him. "The gods," he said, "grant boons to foolish people
who persistently practise penances, as intoxicants are sold to fools for money.
They lead to loss of self-control, and this leads to the warping of the mind
and utter destruction." He illustrated his advice by the ancient tale, which
is given below.
In olden times there was a celebrated sage
named Baladhi. He had a son whose untimely death plunged him into grief. So, be
practised rigorous penance to get a son who would never meet with death.
The gods told the sage that this could never
be, for the human race was necessarily mortal, and there need must be a limit
to human life. They asked him to name his own limit.
The sage replied: "In that case grant that
the life of my son may persist as long as that mountain lasts." The boon
was granted to him and he was duly blessed with a son named Medhavi.
Medhavi grew conceited at the thought that he
was safe from death forever, since he would live as long as the mountain
existed, and he behaved with arrogance towards all.
One day, this vain man showed disrespect to a
great sage named Dhanushaksha. At once that sage cursed that he might be turned
to ashes, but the curse took no effect on Medhavi who remained in perfect
health.
Seeing this, the high-souled sage was puzzled
and then remembered the gift Medhavi had been endowed with at birth. Dhanushaksha took the form of a wild buffalo
and by the power of his penances butted at the mountain and broke it to pieces
and Medhavi fell down dead.
Bharadwaja concluded the story with this solemn
warning to his son: "Learn wisdom from this old story. Be not ruined by
vanity. Cultivate self-restraint. Do not transgress the limits of good conduct
and do not be disrespectful to the great Raibhya."
It was springtime. The trees and creepers were
beautiful with flowers and the whole forest was gorgeous with color and sweet
with the song of birds.
The very earth seemed to be under the spell of
the god of love. Paravasu's wife was strolling alone in the garden near the
hermitage of Raibhya. She appeared more than human, in the sweet union in her
of beauty, courage and purity.
At that time Yavakrida came there and was so
overwhelmed by her loveliness that he completely lost his sense and
self-control and became as a ravening beast with lust.
He accosted her and taking brutal advantage of
her fear and shame and bewilderment, he dragged her to a lonely pot and
violated her person.
Raibhya returned to his hermitage. He saw his
daughter in-law weeping, broken-hearted and inconsolable and learning of the
shameful outrage perpetrated on her, he was seized with implacable anger. He
plucked a hair from his bead and offered it to the fire reciting a mantra.
At once, a maiden, as beautiful as his
daughter-in-law, emerged from the sacrificial fire.
The sage plucked another hair from his knotted
lock and offered it as oblation. A terrible ghost rose from the fire. The sage
commanded them to kill Yavakrida. Both of them bowed to the order.
While Yavakrida was performing the morning
rites, the female spirit went near him and with smiles and allurements put him
off his guard and as she ran away with his water-jug, the male ghost rushed on
him with uplifted spear.
Yavakrida stood up in fear. Knowing that his
mantras would be of no avail until he cleansed himself with water, he looked
for his water-jug. When he found it missing, he rushed to a pond for water but
the pond was dry. He went to nearby stream, which also dried up at his
approach.
There was no water for him anywhere. The
terrible fiend pursued him everywhere and Yavakrida fled for his life, with the
demon hot on his heels. His sin had consumed the power of his vigils and fasts.
At last, he sought refuge in the sacrificial hall of his father.
The half-blind man who was guarding the
hermitage stopped him as be could not recognise Yavakrida as, distorted with
mortal fear, he sought to force his way in. Meanwhile, the fiend overtook him
and killed him with his spear.
When Bharadvaja returned to his hermitage, he
came upon his son's corpse and concluded that disrespect to Raibhya must have
led to this cruel fate.
"Alas! My child, you died of your pride
and vanity. Was it not a great mistake that you tried to learn the Vedas in a
way not resorted to by any brahmana? Why did you behave so as to be cursed
thus? May Raibhya, who caused the death of my only son, be himself killed by
one of his sons!" Thus, carried away by rage and grief the sage cursed
Raibhya.
Regaining control soon, he exclaimed in
anguish: "Alas! They alone are blessed who have no sons. I have not only
lost my only son, but in the madness of my grief I have also cursed my friend
and companion. What is the use of continuing my life?" He cremated his
son's body and died by throwing himself on the funeral pyre.
35. Mere Learning Is Not Enough
KING Brihadyumna, a disciple of the sage
Raibhya, performed a great sacrifice at which he requested his teacher to let
his two sons Paravasu and Arvavasu officiate. With the permission of their
father, both of them went joyfully to the capital of the king.
While arrangements were being made for the
sacrifice, Paravasu desired one day to go and see his wife and, walking alone
all night, he reached his hermitage before dawn. Near the hermitage, he saw in
the twilight, what seemed to him a beast of prey crouching for a spring and,
hurling his weapon at it, killed it.
But to his horror and grief, he discovered that
he had killed his own father clad in skins, mistaking him for a wild denizen of
the forest. He realised that the fatal mistake was the effect of the curse of
Bharadwaja.
When he had hastily performed the funeral rites
of his father, he went to Arvavasu and told him the doleful tale. He said:
"But this mishap should not interfere with the sacrifice of the king.
Please do the rites on my behalf in expiation of the sin I have unwittingly
committed. There is, mercifully, atonement for sins committed in ignorance. If
you can be my substitute here for undergoing the expiation I shall be able to
go and assist in conducting the king's sacrifice. I can officiate unaided,
which is a thing you cannot do as yet."
The virtuous brother agreed and said: "You
may attend to the king's sacrifice. I shall do penance to free you from the
terrible taint of having killed a father and a brahmana."
The virtuous Arvavasu, accordingly, took upon
himself the expiatory rites on behalf of his brother. That done, he came to the
court of the king to join his brother and assist in the sacrifice.
The sin of Paravasu was not washed off, since
expiation cannot be by proxy. It tainted his mind with wicked designs.
Becoming jealous of the radiance on his
brother's face, Paravasu decided to dishonor him by casting on him an unjustice
as a person and accordingly, when Arvavasu entered the hall, Paravasu loudly
exclaimed so that the king might hear:
"This man has committed the sin of killing
a brahmana and how can he enter this holy sacrificial place?"
Arvavasu indignantly denied the accusation but
none heeded him, and he was ignominiously expelled from that hall of sacrifice
by the orders of the king.
Arvavasu repeatedly protested his innocence.
"It is my brother who has committed the sin and even then it was through a
mistake. I have saved him by performing expiatory rites."
This made matters worse for him for nobody
believed that the expiation he had undergone was not for his own crime and
everyone thought that he was adding false accusation against a blameless
brother, to his other sins.
The virtuous Arvavasu who, besides being
falsely accused of a monstrous crime, was also slandered as a liar, retreated
to the forest in despair of finding justice in the world and betook himself to
rigorous austerities.
The gods were gracious and asked him: "O
virtuous soul, what is the boon you seek?" High thinking and deep
meditation had in the meantime cleansed his heart of all anger at his brother's
conduct; and so, he only prayed that his father might be restored to life and
that his brother might be freed from wickedness and the sins that he had
committed.
The gods granted his prayer.
Lomasa narrated this story to Yudhishthira at a
place near Raibhya's hermitage and said: "O Pandavas, bathe here and wash
off your passions in this holy river."
Arvavasu and Paravasu were both sons of a great
scholar. Both of them learnt at his feet and became eminent scholars
themselves.
But learning is one thing and virtue is quite
another. It is true that one should know the difference between good and evil,
if one is to seek good and shun evil. But this knowledge should soak into every
thought and influence every act in one's life.
Then indeed knowledge becomes virtue. The
knowledge that is merely so much undigested information crammed into the mind,
cannot instill virtue.
It is just an outward show like our clothes and
is no real part of us.
WHILE the Pandavas were wandering among holy
places in the forest, they came one day to the hermitage of the personages
immortalized in the Upanishads. Lomasa told Yudhishthira the story of that
place.
Udalaka, a great sage and teacher of Vedanta,
had a disciple named Kagola, who was virtuous and devoted but had no great
learning. So, the other disciples used to laugh and mock at him.
Uddalaka, however, attached no great weight to
his disciple's lack of erudition but really appreciated his virtues, devotion
and good conduct and gave his daughter Sujata in marriage to him.
The couple was blessed with a son. A child
generally inherits the characteristics of both the parents. But fortunately the
grandson of Uddalaka took after his grandfather rather than his father and knew
the Vedas even while he was in his mother's womb.
When Kagola made mistakes, as he often did in
reciting the Vedas, the child in the womb would twist his body with pain, and
so it came to pass that he had eight crooked bends in his body when he was
born.
These crooked bends earned him the name of
Ashtavakra, which means "Eight crooked bends." Kagola, one ill-fated
day, provoked a polemical contest with Vandi, the court scholar of Mithila,
and, having been defeated, was made to drown himself.
Meanwhile Ashtavakra grew up to be a towering
scholar even in his boyhood, and at the age of twelve he had already completed
his study of the Vedas and the Vedanta.
One day, Ashtavakra learnt that Janaka, the
king of Mithila was performing a great sacrifice in the course of which the
assembled scholars would, as usual, debate on the sastras.
Ashtavakra set out for Mithila, accompanied by
his uncle Svetaketu. On their way to the place of sacrifice at Mithila, they
came across the king and his retinue.
The attendants of the king marched in front
shouting: "Move away. Make way for the King." Ashtavakra instead of
moving out of the way said to the retainers:
"O royal attendants, even the king, if he
is righteous, has to move and make way for the blind, the deformed, the fair
sex, persons bearing loads and brahmanas learned in the Vedas. This is the rule
enjoined by the scriptures."
The king, surprised at these wise words of the
brahmana boy, accepted the justness of the rebuke and made way, observing to
his attendants: "What this brahmana stripling says is true. Fire is fire
whether it is tiny or big and it has the power to burn."
Ashtavakra and Svetaketu entered the
sacrificial hall. The gatekeeper stopped them and said: "Boys cannot go
in. Only old men learned in the Vedas may go into the sacrificial hall."
Ashtavakra replied: "We are not mere boys.
We have observed the necessary vows and have learnt the Vedas. Those who have
mastered the truths of the Vedanta will not judge another on mere
considerations of age or appearance."
The gatekeeper said: "Stop. Have done with
your idle brag. How can you, a mere boy, have learnt and realised the
Vedanta?"
The boy said: "You mean I am not big like
an over-grown gourd with no substance in it? Size is no indication of knowledge
or worth, nor is age. A very tall old man may be a tall old fool. Let me
pass."
The gatekeeper said: "You are certainly
not old, nor tall, though you talk like all the hoary sages. Get out."
Ashtavakra replied: "Gatekeeper, Grey
hairs do not prove the ripeness of the soul. The really mature man is the one
who has learnt the Vedas and the Vedangas, mastered their gist and realised
their essence. I am here to meet the court pandit Vandi. Inform King Janaka of
my desire."
At that moment the king himself came there and
easily recognized Ashtavakra, the precociously wise boy he had met before.
The king asked: "Do you know that my court
pandit Vandi has overthrown in argument many great scholars in the past and
caused them to be cast into the ocean? Does that not deter you from this
dangerous adventure?"
Ashtavakra replied: "Your eminent scholar
has not hitherto encountered men like me who are proficient in the Vedas on
Vedanta. He has become arrogant and vain with easy victories over good men who
were not real scholars. I have come here to repay the debt due on account of my
father, who was defeated by this man and made to drown himself, as I have heard
from my mother. I have no doubt I shall vanquish Vandi, whom you will see
crumple up like a broken-wheeled cart. Please summon him."
Ashtavakra met Vandi. They took up a debatable
thesis and started an argument, each employing his utmost learning and wits to
confound the other. And in the end the assembly unanimously declared the
victory of Ashtavakra and the defeat of Vandi.
The court pandit of Mithila bowed his head and
paid the forfeit by drowning himself in the ocean and going to the abode of
Varuna.Then the spirit of Kagola, the father of Ashtavakra, gained peace and
joy in the glory of his son.
The author of the epic instructs us through
these words put in Kagola's mouth: "A son need not be like his father. A
father who is physically weak may have a very strong son and an ignorant father
may have a scholarly son. It is wrong to acesess the greatness of a man on his
physical appearance or age. External appearances are deceptive." Which shows that the unlearned Kagola was not
devoid of common sense.
DRAUPADI used to complain frequently:
"This Kamyaka forest is not beautiful without Arjuna. I find no joy in
life in the absence of Arjuna."
The other Pandavas shared Draupadi's
wretchedness at separation from Arjuna, who had gone to the Himalayas in quest
of divine weapons.
Bhimasena told Draupadi: "Blessed lady, I
myself feel the same about Arjuna and what you say makes me thrill with love
and sympathy. Bereft of Arjuna, this beautiful forest seems desolate. My mind
can know no peace without seeing Arjuna. Sahadeva, how do you feel?"
Sahadeva said: "This hermitage seems to be
empty without Arjuna. We shall try whether a change of scene will help us to
bear the pain of separation better."
Yudhishthira addressing his priest Dhaumya
said: "I have sent my younger brother Arjuna to win divine weapons. That
dauntless and dexterous hero has not yet returned. We have sent him to the
Himalayas to get from Indra, the king of gods, weapons with which we could
conquer Bhishma, Drona, Kripa and Aswatthama, since it is certain that these
heroes will fight on the side of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Karna knows the
secret of divine weapons, and his supreme wish is to fight with Arjuna. I have
sent Arjuna to gain Indra's grace and get weapons from him as the Kaurava
heroes can be defeated by no other means. Having sent him on a very difficult
errand, we cannot live here happily, for we miss him in all our accustomed
haunts. I wish to go elsewhere, for that may enable us to bear the separation
better. Can you suggest where we could go?"
Dhaumya described many forests and holy places.
The Pandavas went the round of those places to relieve themselves to some
extent from the pangs of separation.
They spent many years in this pilgrimage and in
listening to the traditions, which sanctified each shrine. Draupadi would often
feel exhausted by having to traverse mountains and forests. Bhima, sometimes
helped by his son Ghalotkacha, would serve and encourage them and make their
labors easy.
In the course of their wanderings through the
Himalayan regions they came to a terrible forest where the path was rugged and
steep.
Yudhishthira was worried and told Bhima that
the way would greatly distress Draupadi but that he himself would go on
accompanied by Nakula and the sage Lomasa.
He suggested that Bhima and Sahadeva should
stay behind at Gangadwara with Draupadi. Bhima would not agree. He said that
the pain of separation from Arjuna ought to have taught his brother how much he
would suffer if he were parted from Sahadeva, Draupadi and Bhima.
Besides, Bhima could not leave Yudhishthira
alone in this forest infested with Rakshasas, demons and wild animals. The way
was hard, but he could easily carry Draupadi across the most difficult parts of
it. He could carry Nakula and Sahadeva also.
When Bhima said these words, Yudhishthira
embraced him and blessed him and wished him an increase of physical strength.
Draupadi smiled and said, addressing Yudhishthira: "No one need carry me.
I can walk. Do not be anxious about me."
They reached Kulinda, the kingdom of Subahu, on
the Himalayas. They accepted the honors rendered to them by that king and
rested there awhile. Later on, they went to the charming forest of
Narayanasrama and halted there.
One day, a breeze that blew from the northeast
wafted a beautiful flower near Draupadi. Draupadi took it in her hands and was
so charmed with its fragrance and beauty that she showed it rapturously to
Bhima.
"Come and see this flower. What a sweet
fragrance! How charming! I shall hand this over to Yudhishthira. Bring some
flowers of this kind. We should grow this plant in our Kamyaka forest."
Draupadi ran to give the flower to Yudhishthira.
Anxious to please his beloved Draupadi, Bhima
went in quest of that plant. He went alone in the direction from which the
fragrance seemed to be borne by the breeze, without wasting a thought on the
wild beasts that crossed his path.
He presently came to a garden of plantain trees
at the foot of a mountain, and there he saw a huge monkey shining like blazing
fire, which lay right across his path blocking it.
He tried to frighten the animal out of his way
by shouting at it. It only half opened its eyes lazily and drawled: "I am
indisposed and so I am lying here. Why lid you wake me? You are a wise human
being and I am mere animal. It is proper that the rational man should show
mercy to animals as interior creatures. I am afraid you are ignorant of right
and wrong. Who are you? Whither are you bound? It is not possible to go further
along this mountain path which is the path of the gods. Men cannot cross this
limit. Eat what you like of the fruits of this place and if you are wise, go
back in peace."
Bhima, unused to being taken so lightly, grew
angry and shouted: "Who are you, yourself, you monkey, that indulges in
such tall talk? I am a kshatriya hero, a descendant of the Kuru race and a son
of Kunti. Know that I am the son of the Wind god. Now move away from the path
or stop me at your peril."
Hearing these words the monkey merely smiled
and said: "I am, as you say, a monkey, but you will come to destruction if
you try to force a way."
Bhima said: "I do not want your advice and
it is no concern of yours if I go to destruction. Get up and move out of the
way or I will make you."
The monkey replied: "I have no strength to
stand up, being but a very old monkey. If you have to go at any cost, jump over
me."
Bhima said: "Nothing could be easier but
the scriptures forbid it. Otherwise I should jump over you and the mountain in
one bound, like Hanuman crossing the ocean."
The monkey remarked as though in surprise:
"O best of men, who is that Hanuman who crossed the ocean? If you know his
story, enlighten me."
Bhima roared and said: "Have you not heard
of Hanuman, my elder brother, who crossed the ocean, a hundred yojanas in
breadth, to seek and find Sita, the wife of Rama? I am equal to him in strength
and heroism. Well, that is enough talk, now get up and make way and do not
provoke me to do you some harm."
The monkey answered: "O mighty hero, be
patient. Be gentle as you are strong, and have mercy on the old and weak. I
have no strength to rise up as I am decrepit with age. Since you have scruples
in jumping over me, kindly move aside my tail and make a path for
yourself."
Proud of his immense strength, Bhima thought to
pull the monkey out of the way by its tail. But, to his amazement he could not
move it in the least, though he exerted all his strength.
He set his jaws and strained every muscle till
the very sinews cracked and he was covered with perspiration. But, still, could
not move that tail the least, a little bit up or down or sideways. In shame, he
bent down his head, and then asked in a chastened mood:
"Who are you? Forgive me and reveal to me
whether you are a Siddha, god or Gandharva." Bhima like most strong men,
was all respect when he saw one stronger than himself, and spoke like a pupil
addressing his master.
Hanuman replied: "O mighty-armed Pandava,
know that I am your brother, even that Hanuman, the son of the Wind god, whom
you mentioned a little while ago. If you go on this path, which is the road to
the spirit-world where the Yakshas and the Rakshasas abide, you will meet with
danger and that is why I stop you. No man can go beyond this and live. But here
is the stream with its depths where you can find the Saugandhika plant you came
to seek."
Bhima was transported with delight: "I count
myself the most fortunate of men in that I have been blessed to meet my
brother. I wish to see the form in which you crossed the ocean," and he
prostrated before Hanuman.
Hanuman smiled and began to increase the size
of his body and stood forth firmly to the world like a mountain seeming to fill the landscape.
Bhima was thrilled at actually seeing that
divine form of this elder brother, the mere description of which had till then
filled him with wonder. He covered his eyes, unable to bear the dazzling light
radiating from that figure.
Hanuman said: "Bhima, in the presence of
my enemies, my body can grow still more." And Hanuman contracted his body,
resuming his former size. He tenderly embraced Bhimasena.
Bhagavan Vyasa says that Bhima felt completely
refreshed and became much stronger than before by the embrace of Hanuman.
Hanuman said: "O hero, go to your abode.
Think of me whenever you are in need. I felt the same delight when I embraced
you that I had in times of yore when I was fortunate enough to touch the divine
body of Sri Rama. Ask any boon that you like."
Bhima said: "Blessed are the Pandavas for
I have had the good fortune to see you. Inspired with your strength we are sure
to conquer our enemies."
Hanuman gave this parting blessing to his brother:
"While you roar like a lion in the
battlefield, my voice shall join yours and strike terror into the hearts of
your enemies. I shall be present on the flag of the chariot of your brother
Arjuna. You will be victorious."
Hanuman pointed out to Bhima the stream nearby,
where grew the Saugandhika flowers he had come to seek.
This put Bhima at once in mind of Draupadi who
was waiting for his return, and he collected the flowers and returned to her
without delay.
ONCE the sage Markandeya came to see the
Pandavas. Yudhishthira happened to talk of the virtues of the fair sex and
said:
"What greater wonder is there in this
world than the patience and the chastity of woman? She gives birth to a child
after cherishing it in her womb as dearer than life itself. She brings it into
the world inpain and anxiety and thence forward her one thought is for its
health and happiness. Large hearted and forgiving, a woman forgives and
continues to love even a wicked husband who neglects and hates and subjects her
to all sorts of miseries. How strange!"
Hearing this Markandeya told him a sacred
story.
There was once a brahmana, named Kausika who
observed his vow of brahmacharya. with great steadfastness and devotion.
One day, he sat under a tree reciting the
Vedas. A crane, perched on the top of the tree, defiled his head with its
droppings. He looked up at it, and his angry look killed the bird and it fell
down dead.
The brahmana was pained when he saw the dead
bird lying on the ground.
How frightful it would be if wishes fulfilled
themselves, if each hasty or angry wish took effect at once! How much there
would be to regret or repent afterwards! It is lucky for us that wishes depend
onoutward circumstances for accomplishment, since that saves us from much sin
and sorrow.
Kausika sorrowed that the evil thought that
passed in his mind in a moment of anger had killed an innocent bird. Some time
later, he went as usual to beg alms.
He stood before the door of a house to receive
his dole. The housewife was cleansing utensils at that time. Kausika waited in
the hope that she would attend to him after her work was over.
In the meantime the master of the house
returned, tired and hungry, and the wife had to attend to his wants, wash and
dry his feet and serve him with food.
In this preoccupation she seemed to have
forgotten the mendicant waiting outside. After her husband had been cared for
and fed, she came out with alms to the mendicant.
She said: "I am sorry to have kept you
waiting long. Pardon me."
Kausika, burning with anger, said: "Lady,
you have made me wait for such a long time. This indifference is not
fair."
The woman told the brahmana: "Best of
brahmanas, kindly do forgive me. I was serving my husband and hence the
delay."
The brahmana remarked: "It is right and proper
to attend on the husband, but the brahmana also should not be disregarded. You
seem an arrogant woman."
She said: "Be not angry with me and
remember that I kept you waiting only because I was dutifully serving my
husband. I am no crane to be killed by a violent thought and your rage can do
no harm to the woman who devotes herself to the service of her husband."
The brahmana was taken aback. He wondered how
the woman knew of the crane incident.
She continued: "O great one, you do not
know the secret of duty, and you are also not aware that anger is the greatest
enemy that dwells in man. Forgive the delay in attending to you. Go to Mithila
and be instructed in the secret of good life by Dharmavyadha living in that
city."
The brahmana was amazed. He said: "I
deserve your just admonition and it will do me good. May all good attend
you." With these words he went to Mithila.
Kausika reached Mithila and looked for
Dharmavyadha's residence, which he thought would be some lonely hermitage far
from the noise and bustle of common life.
He walked along magnificent roads between
beautiful houses and gardens in that great city and finally reached a butcher's
shop, in which was a man selling meat. His amazement was great when he learnt
that this man was Dharmavyadha.
The brahmana was shocked beyond measure and
stood at a distance in disgust. The butcher suddenly rose from his seat, came
to the brahmana and inquired: "Revered sir, are you well? Did that chaste
brahmana lady send you to me?"
The brahmana was stupefied.
"Revered sir, I know why you have come.
Let us go home," said the butcher and he took the brahmana to his house
where he saw a happy family and was greatly struck by the devotion with which
the butcher served his parents.
Kausika took his lessons from that butcher on
dharma, man's calling and duty. Afterwards, the brahmana returned to his house
and began to tend his parents, a duty, which he had rather neglected before.
The moral of this striking story of
Dharmavyadha so skillfully woven by Vedavyasa into the Mahabharata, is the same
as the teaching of the Gita. Man reaches perfection by the honest pursuit of
whatever calling falls to his lot in life, and that this is really worship of
God who created and pervades all. (Bhagavad Gita, XVIII, 45-46)
The occupation may be one he is born to in
society or it may have been forced on him by circumstances or be may have taken
it up by choice. But what really matters is the spirit of sincerity and
faithfulness with which be does his life's work.
Vedavyasa emphasizes this great truth by making
a scholarly brahmana, who did not know it, learn it from a butcher, who lived
it in his humble and despised life.
39. The Wicked Are Never Satisfied
MANY brahmanas visited the Pandavas during
their exile. And one such, returning to Hastinapura, went to see Dhritarashtra,
who received him with due honor.
The brahmana told him how the Pandavas, born
princes, were, by unkind destiny, at the mercy of the wind and the sun and
suffered great privations.
Dhritarashtra was probably sorry to hear this.
But what troubled him most were the consequences to his own sons. Could
Yudhishthira continue to hold the justly wrathful Bhima in check?
Dhritarashtra feared that the anger of the
Pandavas, long pent up, might one day break its bounds and overflow in a
devastating flood.
The king anxiously pondered thus: "Arjuna
and Bhima will certainly try to punish us. Sakuni, Karna, Duryodhana and the
short-sighted Duhsasana are perched precariously up a tree in search of a
honeycomb while below is the abyss of Bhima's anger yawning to receive them to
their destruction."
The blind king pursued his thought: "Alas,
why did we become a prey to covetousness? It is not as though poverty drove us
to it! Why did we take to the path of injustice? Instead of enjoying our
boundless wealth in contentment we succumbed to lust of power and possession
and coveted what was not ours. Wrong cannot but yield its bitter harvest!
Arjuna has returned from heaven with divine weapons. What could tempt one back
to earth from heaven but the craving for vengeance? And we have earned
it!" These thoughts would haunt and give him no peace.
Though Dhritarashtra was thus worried, Sakuni,
Karna and Duryodhana were giddily happy and found much pleasure in exulting
congratulation of one another on their prosperity.
Karna and Sakuni said to Duryodhana: "The
kingdom which was in the hands of Yudhishthira has become ours. We need no
longer burn with jealousy."
Duryodhana replied: "O Karna, all that is
true, but would it not be a joy of joys to see with my own eyes the sufferings
of the Pandavas and bring their sorrow to a climax by a display of our
happiness? The only way to perfect our happiness is to go to the forest and see
the distress of the Pandavas, but my father will refuse permission," and
Duryodhana shed tears at his father's cruelty in denying him this pleasure.
He said again: "The king fears the
Pandavas, as he thinks that they are endowed with the power of austerities. He
forbids us to go to the forest and meet them, lest danger should befall us. But
I tell you, all we have done so far is labor lost, without a sight of the
sufferings of Draupadi, Bhima and Arjuna in the forest. This life of idle ease
is torment to me without that great joy. Sakuni and yourself must seek a way of
obtaining the king's consent for us to go to the forest and see the Pandavas in
their misery."
Early next morning, Karna went to Duryodhana
with a cheerful face and announced that he had found a way out of the
difficulty.
He said: "What do you think of going to
our ranches at Dwaitavana for the annual stock-taking of the cows? The king
certainly cannot object to that." Sakuni and Duryodhana applauded this
bright idea and sent the leader of the cowherds to the king to secure his
permission.
But the king would not assent. He said:
"Hunting is indeed beneficial to the princes. It is also desirable to take
stock of the cows. But I learn that the Pandavas are dwelling in that forest.
It is not advisable for you to go there. I cannot agree to send you to a place
near the abode of Bhima and Arjuna while there is still occasion for anger and
strife."
Duryodhana said: "We shall not go near
them. On the contrary we shall be very careful and avoid them." The king
answered:
"However careful you may be, there is danger
in mere nearness. Also, it is not right to intrude on the sorrows of the
Pandavas in their forest life. Anyone of your soldiers might trespass and give
offence, which may lead to trouble. Someone else can go in your stead to count
the cattle."
Sakuni said: "O king, Yudhishthira knows
and follows the path of dharma. He has given his promise in the open assembly
and the Pandavas will follow his bidding. The sons of Kunti will not show any
enmity towards us. Do not oppose Duryodhana who is fond of hunting. Let him
return after taking stock of the cows. I shall also accompany him and see to it
that none of us go anywhere near the Pandavas."
The king, over-persuaded as usual, said:
"Well, please yourselves." A heart full of hate can know no
contentment. Hate is a cruel fire, which extorts the fuel, on which it lives
and grows.
THE Kauravas reached Dwaitavana with a great
army and many followers. Duryodhana and Karna went with unconcealed joy at the
very thought of being able to gloat on the sad plight of the Pandavas.
They themselves camped in luxurious rest houses
in a place four miles off the abode of the Pandavas. They inspected the herds
of cows and took stock of them.
After counting the cows, bulls and calves, they
enjoyed the dance, the hunt, the sylvan sports and other entertainment’s
arranged for them.
While hunting, Duryodhana and his party reached
an attractive pond near the hermitage of the Pandavas and ordered a camp to be
put on its bank.
Chitrasena, the king of the Gandharvas, and his
attendants had already encamped in the neighborhood of the pool and they
prevented Duryodhana's men from putting up their camp.
They returned to Duryodhana and represented
that some petty prince who was there with his followers was giving them
trouble.
Duryodhana was annoyed at this presumption and
directed his men to turn the Gandharva prince out and put up the tents. The
attendants returned to the lake and tried to carry out their orders but found
the Gandharvas too many for them and had to retreat in precipitation.
When Duryodhana came to know of this, he grew
very angry and with a large army marched to destroy the audacious enemies who
had dared to resist his pleasure. A great fight ensued between the Gandharvas
and Duryodhana's army.
At first the fight went in favor of the
Kauravas. But the tables were quickly turned when Chitrasena, the king of the
Gandharvas, rallied his troops and began using his magic weapons.
Karna and the other Kaurava heroes lost their
chariots and weapons and had to retreat in haste and ignominy. Duryodhana alone
remained in the battlefield but he was soon seized by Chitrasena, who placed
him in his chariot bound hand and foot, and blew his conch in token of victory.
The Gandharvas took many of the prominent
Kauravas captive. The Kaurava army fled in all directions and some of the
fugitives took refuge in the hermitage of the Pandavas.
Bhima heard the news of Duryodhana's defeat and
capture with delight and amusement. He said to Yudhishthira: "These
Gandharvas have done our job for us. Duryodhana, who must have come here to
mock at us, has got what he deserved. I feel like thanking our Gandharva
friend!"
But Yudhishthira reproved him: "Dear
brother, this is not the time for you to rejoice. The Kauravas are our kith and
kin and their humiliation, at the hands of strangers, is ours. We cannot hold
back and take this lying down. We must rescue them."
Bhima did not think this very reasonable. He
said: "Why should we save this sinner who tried to burn us alive in the
wax house? Why should you feel sorry for the fellow who poisoned my food, bound
me hand and foot and wanted to drown me in the river? What brotherly feeling
can we really have towards these vile wretches who hauled Draupadi by the hair
to theassembly and disgraced her?"
At that moment a cry of agony from Duryodhana
reached them faintly from the distance and Yudhishthira, greatly moved,
overruled Bhima's objection and bade his brothers go to the rescue of the
Kauravas.
Obedient to his behest, Bhima and Arjuna
rallied the routed Kaurava forces and offered battle to the Gandharvas. But
Chitrasena had no wish to fight with the Pandavas and at their approach,
released Duryodhana and the other prisoners saying that all he wanted was to
teach a lesson to these arrogant Kauravas.
The dishonored Kauravas returned in haste to
Hastinapura, with Karna, who, having been, driven off the battlefield, joined
them on the way.
Duryodhana, in great shame and dejection, felt
it would have been far better if be had been killed by Chitrasena and announced
his wish to fast unto death.
He said to Duhsasana: "Be crowned and rule
the kingdom. I can no longer continue to live after having become a laughing
stock to my enemies."
Duhsasana protested his unworthiness to be king
and caught hold of his brother's feet and wept. Karna could not bear the sight
of the brother's sorrow.
Karna said: "This does not befit heroes of
the Kuru race. What is the use of just collapsing under sorrow? It will but
make your enemies happy. Look at the Pandavas. They have not taken to fasts in
spite of the disgrace they have suffered."
Sakuni interposed and said: "Listen to
Karna's words. Why do you say that you would give up your life when the kingdom
seized from the Pandavas is yours to enjoy? Fasting serves no purpose, for if
you really repent of what you have done till now, you should make friends with
the Pandavas and give them back their kingdom."
When Duryodhana heard this speech, his evil
nature regained ascendancy, for giving back the kingdom to the Pandavas was to
him a hundred times worse than defeat or disgrace. He shouted: "I shall
conquer the Pandavas."
Karna said: "That is the way for a king to
talk."
And he added: "What sense is there in
dying? You can do something worthwhile only if you are alive."
While returning home, Karna said: "I swear
to you by all that is holy that, when the stipulated period of thirteen years
is over, I will kill Arjuna in battle." And then he touched his sword in
token of the oath.
WHILE the Pandavas were dwelling in the forest,
Duryodhana celebrated a great sacrifice with much pomp and splendor.
He wanted to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice,
but the brahmanas told him that he could not do that while Yudhishthira and
Dhritarashtra were alive and advised him to perform the sacrifice known as the
Vaishnava instead.
He accepted this advice and celebrated the
Vaishnava with great splendor. But when the ceremony was over, the citizens
began to talk among themselves that Duryodhana's sacrifice had not come up to
even a sixteenth part of Yudhishthira's Rajasuya in magnificence.
The friends of Duryodhana, on the other hand,
praised him and the sacrifice he had celebrated and likened it to those
performed by Yayati, Mandhata, Bharata and others.
Court flatterers were not sparing with their
praise. Karna told Duryodhana that his Rajasuya had been only postponed till
the Pandavas should be defeated and slain in battle and repeated that his part
would be the slaying of Arjuna.
"Till I have slain Arjuna," said he,
"I shall not take meat or wine, nor will I refuse the prayer of anyone who
asks me for anything." Such was the solemn vow taken by Karna in the
assembly.
The sons of Dhritarashtra were delighted to
hear this vow of the great hero Karna and shouted in joy. They felt as if the
Pandavas had been slain already.
Spies conveyed to the Pandavas in the forest
the news of the oath taken by Karna. Yudhishthira was greatly concerned, for he
had a great opinion of Karna's prowess.
Karna had been born with divine armor and was
undoubtedly a mighty hero. One morning, just before the hour of awakening, Yudhishthira
had a dream.
Many of our dreams come either in the beginning
or at the end of our sleep. He dreamt that the wild beasts of the forest came
and appealed to him piteously not to destroy them altogether, but to move on to
some other forest.
Duryodhana felt sure that the Pandavas, who
themselves lived from hand to mouth in the forest, would be unable to feed or
entertain the sage and his following, and would incur some dreadful curse from
that too hasty visitor for their want of hospitality. This would give him
greater joy than any benefit he could have asked for himself when the sage
offered a boon. Durvasa went with his disciples to the Pandavas as was desired
by Duryodhana, as the latter were resting after their midday meal.
The brothers welcomed the sage, saluted and
honored him. Then the sage said: "We shall be back soon. Our meals must be
ready then, for we are hungry," and hurried off with his disciples to the
river.
As a result of the austerities of Yudhishthira
at the beginning of their stay in the forest, the Sun god had given him the
Akshayapatra, a wonderful vessel that held a never-failing supply of food.
In making the gift, the god had said,
"Through this I shall place at your disposal for twelve years as much food
as is required for your daily consumption.
Not till everyone has been served and Draupadi
herself has taken her share will the vessel become empty for the day."
Accordingly, the brahmanas and other guests
would be served first. Afterwards the Pandava brothers would take their meals.
Finally, Draupadi would have her share.
When Durvasa reached the place, all of them,
including Draupadi, had eaten their meals and so the vessel was empty and
denuded of its power for the day.
Draupadi was greatly troubled and perfectly at
a loss to find food when the sage and his disciples should return after their
ablutions. In the kitchen, she prayed earnestly to Sri Krishna to come to her
aid in this hopeless predicament and deliver her from the wrath of the sage.
At once Sri Krishna appeared before her.
"I am very hungry," he said, "bring without delay something to
eat and we shall speak of other things afterwards."
Here was a pretty pass. It looked as though the
ally from whom she hoped for relief had gone over to the foe! She cried out in
great confusion: "Alas! Why do you try me thus, O Krishna? The power of
the vessel given by the Sun is exhausted for the day. And the sage Durvasa has
come. What shall I do? The sage and his disciples will soon be here and as
though this were not enough, you have also come at this juncture saying that
you are hungry."
Sri Krishna said: "I am terribly hungry
and want food, not excuses. Fetch the vessel and let me see for myself."
Draupadi brought it to him. A tiny bit of cooked vegetable and a grain of rice
were sticking to the rim of the vessel.
Sri Krishna ate them with satisfaction,
accepting them as Sri Hari, the Soul of the Universe. Draupadi was filled with
shame at her slovenliness in not having cleaned the vessel free of all
remnants. A bit had been left which had been partaken by Vasudeva!
Sri Krishna seemed replete with satisfaction
after eating his solitary grain and calling Bhima, told him to go to the river
and intimate to the revered sage that food was ready and waiting for them.
Bhimasena, greatly puzzled, but full of faith
in Sri Krishna, hastened to the river where Durvasa and his followers were
bathing.
They were in great surprise to find that their
ravenous hunger had given place to a pleased satiety. They had all the
comfortable cheerfulness of people who had feasted well.
The disciples told the sage: "We have come
here after asking Yudhishthira to prepare food for us, but we feel well-fed and
full and cannot eat anything more."
Durvasa knew what it was and he told Bhima:
"We have taken our meals. Tell Yudhishthira to forgive us." Then the
party went away.
The explanation is that as the whole universe
is contained in Sri Krishna, his satisfaction with a single grain of rice
satisfied for the time the hunger of all beings including the sage.
THE stipulated period of twelve years was
drawing to a close.
One day, a deer was rubbing itself against a
poor brahmana's fire-kindling mortar and as it turned to go, the mortar got
entangled in its horns and the affrighted animal fled wildly with it into the
forest.
In those days matches were unknown and fire was
kindled with pieces of wood by mechanical friction.
"Alas! The deer is running away with my
fire-kindler. How can I perform the fire sacrifice?" shouted the brahmana
and rushed towards the Pandavas for help in his extremity.
The Pandavas pursued the animal but it was a
magic deer, which sped in great leaps and bounds, decoying the Pandavas far
into the forest and then disappeared. Worn out by the futile chase, the
Pandavas sat in great dejection under a banyan tree.
Nakula sighed: "We cannot render even this
trifling service to the brahmana. How we have degenerated!" said he sadly.
Bhima said: "Quite so. When Draupadi was
dragged into the assembly, we should have killed those wretches. Is it not
because we did not do so that we have had to suffer all these sorrows?"
and he looked at Arjuna sadly.
Arjuna agreed. "I bore in silence the
vulgar and insulting brag of that son of the charioteer, doing nothing. So we
have deservedly fallen into this pitiable state."
Yudhishthira noticed with sorrow that all of
them had lost their cheerfulness and courage. He thought they would be more
cheerful with something to do. He was tormented with thirst and so he said to
Nakula: "Brother, climb that tree and see whether there is any pool or
river nearby."
Nakula climbed the tree, looked around and
said: "At a little distance I see water plants and cranes. There must
certainly be water there."
Yudhishthira sent him to fetch some to drink.
Nakula was glad when he got to the place and
saw there was a pool. He was very thirsty himself and so thought of quenching
his thirst first before taking water in his quiver for his brother. But no
sooner did he dip his hand in the transparent water than he heard a voice,
which said:
"Do not be rash. This pool belongs to me.
O son of Madri, answer my questions and then drink the water."
Nakula was surprised, but carried away by his
intense thirst and heedless of the warning, he drank the water. At once,
overcome by irresistible drowsiness, he fell down, to all appearance dead.
Surprised that Nakula had not returned, Yudhishthira
sent Sahadeva to see what the matter was.
When Sahadeva reached the pool and saw his brother lying on the ground,
he wondered whether any harm had come to him. But before looking into the
matter further, rushed irresistibly to the water to quench his burning thirst.
The voice was heard again: "O Sahadeva,
this is my pool. Answer my questions and then only may you quench your
thirst."
Like Nakula, Sahadeva also did not heed the
warning. He drank the water and at once dropped down.
Puzzled and worried that Sahadeva also did not
return, Yudhishthira sent Arjuna to see whether the brothers had met with any
danger. "And bring water," he added, for he was very thirsty.
Arjuna went swiftly. He saw both his brothers
lying dead near the pool. He was shocked at the sight and felt that they must
have been killed by some lurking foe.
Though heart-broken with grief and burning with
the desire for revenge, he felt all feelings submerged in a monstrous thirst,
which irresistibly impelled him to the fatal pool. Again, a voice was heard:
"Answer my question before you drink the water. This pool is mine. If you
disobey me, you will follow your brothers."
Arjuna's anger knew no bounds. He cried:
"Who are you? Come and stand up to me, and I will kill you," and he shot
keen-edged arrows in the direction of the voice. The invisible being laughed in
scorn: "Your arrows do but wound the air. Answer my questions and then you
can satisfy your thirst. If you drink the water without doing so, you will
die."
Greatly vexed, Arjuna made up his mind to seek
out and grapple with this elusive foe. But first he had to quench his terrible
thirst. Yes, thirst was the enemy he must kill first. So he drank the water and
also fell down dead.
After anxious waiting Yudhishthira turned to
Bhima: "Dear brother, Arjuna, the great hero, has also not yet returned.
Something terrible must have happened to our brothers, for our stars are bad.
Please seek them out and be quick about it. Also bring water, for I die of
thirst." Bhima, racked with anxiety, hurried away without a word.
His grief and rage can be imagined when he saw
his three brothers lying there dead. He thought: "This is certainly the
work of the Yakshas. I will hunt them down and kill them. But O! I am so
thirsty, I shall first drink water the better to fight them." And then he
descended into the pool.
The voice shouted: "Bhimasena, beware. You
may drink only after answering my questions. You will die if you disregard my
words."
"Who are you to dictate to me?" cried
Bhima, and he drank the water avidly, glaring around in defiance. And as he did
so, his great strength seemed to slip from him like a garment. And he also fell
dead among his brothers.
Alone, Yudhishthira wailed full of anxiety and
thirst. "Have they been subjected to a curse or are they wandering about
in the forest in a vain search for water or have they fainted or died of
thirst?"
Unable to bear these thoughts and driven desperate by an overpowering
thirst, he started out to look for his brothers and the pool.
Yudhishthira proceeded in the direction his
brothers had taken through tracts infested with wild boar and abounding in
spotted dear and huge forest birds. Presently he came upon a beautiful green
meadow, girdling a pool of pellucid water, nectar to his eyes.
But when he saw his brothers lying there like
sacred flagpoles thrown pell-mell after a festival, unable to restrain his
grief, he lifted his voice and wept. He stroked the faces of Bhima and Arjuna
as they lay so still and silent there and mourned:
"Was this to be the end of all our vows?
Just when our exile is about to end, you have been snatched away. Even the gods
have forsaken me in my misfortune!"
As he looked at their mighty limbs, now so
helpless, he sadly wondered who could have been powerful enough to kill them.
Brokenly, he reflected: "Surely my heart must be made of steel not to
break even after seeing Nakula and Sahadeva dead. For what purpose should I
continue to live in this world?"
Then a sense of mystery overcame him, for this
could be no ordinary occurrence. The world held no warriors who could overcome
his brothers. Besides, there were no wounds on their bodies which could have
let out life and their faces were faces of men who slept in peace and not of
those who died in wrath.
There was also no trace of the footprints of an
enemy. There was surely some magic about it. Or, could it be a trick played by
Duryodhana? Might he not have poisoned the water? Then Yudhishthira also
descended into the pool, in his turn drawn to the water by a consuming thirst.
At once the voice without form warned as
before: "Your brothers died because they did not heed my words. Do not
follow them. Answer my questions first and then quench your thirst. This pool
is mine."
Yudhishthira knew that these could be none
other than the words of a Yaksha and guessed what had happened to his brothers.
He saw a possible way of redeeming the situation.
He said to the bodiless voice: "Please ask
your questions." The voice put questions rapidly one after another.
The Yaksha asked: "What makes sun shine
every day?"
Yudhishthira replied: "The power of
Brahman."
The Yaksha asked: "What rescues man in
danger?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Courage is man's
salvation in danger."
The Yaksha asked: "By the study of which
science does man become wise?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Not by studying any
sastra does man become wise. It is by association with the great in wisdom that
he gets wisdom."
The Yaksha asked: "What is more nobly
sustaining than the earth?"
Yudhishthira replied: "The mother who
brings up the children she has borne is nobler and more sustaining than the
earth."
The Yaksha asked: "What is higher than the
sky?"
Yudhishthira replied: "The father."
The Yaksha asked: "What is fleeter than
wind?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Mind."
The Yaksha asked: "What is more blighted
than withered straw?"
Yudhishthira replied: "A sorrow-stricken
heart."
The Yaksha asked: "What befriends a
traveller?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Learning."
The Yaksha asked: "Who is the friend of
one who stays at home?"
Yudhishthira replied: "The wife."
The Yaksha asked: "Who accompanies a man
in death?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Dharma. That alone
accompanies the soul in its solitary journey after death."
The Yaksha asked: "Which is the biggest
vessel?"
Yudhishthira replied: "The earth, which
contains all within itself is the greatest vessel."
The Yaksha asked: "What is
happiness?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Happiness is the
result of good conduct."
The Yaksha asked: "What is that,
abandoning which man becomes loved by all?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Pride, for
abandoning that man will be loved by all."
The Yaksha asked: "What is the loss which
yields joy and not sorrow?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Anger, giving it
up, we will no longer subject to sorrow."
The Yaksha asked: "What is that, by giving
up which, man becomes rich?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Desire, getting rid
of it, man becomes wealthy."
The Yaksha asked: "What makes one a real
brahmana? Is it birth, good conduct or learning? Answer decisively."
Yudhishthira replied: "Birth and learning
do not make one a brahmana. Good conduct alone does. However learned a person
may be he will not be a brahmana if he is a slave to bad habits. Even though he
may be learned in the four Vedas, a man of bad conduct falls to a lower
class."
The Yaksha asked: "What is the greatest
wonder in the world?"
Yudhishthira replied: "Every day, men see
creatures depart to Yama's abode and yet, those who remain seek to live
forever. This verily is the greatest wonder."
Thus, the Yaksha posed many questions and Yudhishthira
answered them all.
In the end the Yaksha asked: "O king, one
of your dead brothers can now be revived. Whom do you want revived? He shall
come back to life."
Yudhishthira thought for a moment and then
replied: "May the cloud-complexioned, lotus-eyed, broad-chested and
long-armed Nakula, lying like a fallen ebony tree, arise."
The Yaksha was pleased at this and asked
Yudhishthira: "Why did you choose Nakula in preference to Bhima who has
the strength of sixteen thousand elephants? I have heard that Bhima is most
dear to you. And why not Arjuna, whose prowess in arms is your protection? Tell
me why you chose Nakula rather than either of these two."
Yudhishthira replied: "O Yaksha, dharma is
the only shield of man and not Bhima or Arjuna. If dharma is set at naught, man
will be ruined. Kunti and Madri were the two wives of my father. I am
surviving, a son of Kunti, and so, she is not completely bereaved. In order
that the scales of justice may be even, I ask that Madri's son Nakula may
revive." The Yaksha was pleased with Yudhishthira's impartiality and
granted that all his brothers would come back to life.
It was Yama, the Lord of Death, who had taken
the form of the deer and the Yaksha so that he might see his son Yudhishthira
and test him. He embraced Yudhishthira and blessed him.
Yama said: "Only a few days remain to
complete the stipulated period of your exile in the forest. The thirteenth year
will also pass by. None of your enemies will be able to discover you. You will
successfully fulfil your undertaking," and saying this he disappeared.
The Pandavas had, no doubt, to pass through all
sorts of troubles during their exile, but the gains too were not
inconsiderable. It was a period of hard discipline and searching probation
through which they emerged stronger and nobler men.
Arjuna returned from tapas with divine weapons
and strengthened by contact with Indra. Bhima also met his elder brother
Hanuman near the lake where the Saugandhika flowers bloomed and got tenfold
strength from his embrace. Having met, at the enchanted pool, his father Yama,
the Lord of Dharma, Yudhishthira shone with tenfold lustre.
"The minds of those who listen to the
sacred story of Yudhishthira's meeting with his father, will never go after
evil. They will never seek to create quarrels among friends or covet the wealth
of others. They will never fall victims to lust. They will never be unduly
attached to transitory things." Thus said Vaisampayana to Janamejaya as he
related this story of the Yaksha. May the same good attend the readers of this
story as retold by us.
"O BRAHMANAS, we have been deceived by the
sons of Dhritarashtra, cheated out of our kingdom and reduced to poverty. Still
we have passed these years cheerfully with joy in the forest. The thirteenth
year of exile has come, and with it the time for us to part from you. For we
have to spend the next twelve months undiscovered by the spies of Duryodhana.
God knows when the day will dawn which will see us together again, without fear
or concealment. Now, bless us before we go. And may we escape the notice of
those who may wish to betray us to the sons of Dhritarashtra, either through
fear or hope of reward."
So spoke Yudhishthira to the brahmanas who were
living with the Pandavas till then. His voice shook with emotion as he spoke
these words.
Dhaumya consoled him. He said: "Parting,
is hard, and the dangers are many and great. But you are too wise and learned
to be shaken or daunted. You must disguise yourselves. Indra, the Lord of gods,
when pested by the demons, disguised himself as a brahmana and lived unknown in
the country of Nishadha. Safely concealed thus, he managed to destroy his
enemies. You must also do likewise. Did not Mahavishnu, the Lord of the
Universe, become a child in the womb of Aditi, suffer human birth, and take
away from Emperor Bali his kingdom for the salvation of the world? Did not Lord
Narayana, the refuge of men, enter into the weapon of Indra to defeat Vritra,
the asura king? Did not the Fire god hide himself in the waters for the sake of
the gods? Does not the moon keep out of sight every day? Did not Lord Vishnu,
the all-pervading God, descend as the son of Dasaratha and spend long years,
suffering many sorrows for the sake of killing Ravana? The greatest souls in
the past have sanctified disguise for a good purpose. You will, likewise,
conquer your enemies and win prosperity."
Yudhishthira took leave of the brahmanas and
gave the members of his retinue leave to go home. The Pandavas retired to a
secluded spot in the forest and discussed their future line of action.
Yudhishthira sadly asked Arjuna: "You are well conversant with the ways of
the world. Where would it be best for us to spend the thirteenth year?"
Arjuna replied:
"O great king, you know Yama, the Lord of Death, has blessed us. We
can easily pass the twelve months together without being discovered. There are
many charming states for us to choose from for our sojourn, states like
Panchala, Matsya, Salva, Videha, Bahlika, Dasharna, Surasena, Kalinga, and Magadha.
It is, of course, for you to choose. But if I may venture an opinion, the
Matsya country of king Virata is the best, prosperous and charming as it
is."
Yudhishthira answered: "Virata, the king
of Matsya, is very strong and he loves us much. He is of mature judgment and is
devoted to the practice of virtue. He will not be won over or frightened by
Duryodhana. I agree that it would be best to live incognito in Virata's
kingdom."
Arjuna said: "Well then, O king, what work
would you seek in the court of Virata?"
When he asked this question, Arjuna was full of
sorrow at the thought of Yudhishthira, the great and guileless king, who had
performed the Rajasuya sacrifice, having to disguise himself and take service.
Yudhishthira answered: "I am thinking of asking
Virata to take me in his service as a courtier. I could delight him with my
conversation and my dexterity at dice. I shall take the garb of a sanyasin and
shall keep him agreeably engaged by my skill in reading omens and knowledge
ofastrology as well as of the Vedas, Vedangas, ethics, politics and other
sciences. I shall have to be careful of course, but be not anxious about me. I
shall tell him that I was an intimate friend of Yudhishthira and learnt these
things while I was privileged to be with him. O Bhima, what works will you, who
conquered and slew Baka and Hidimba, take up under Virata? You saved us by
killing Jatasura. Valor and strength are over-flowing from you. What disguise
can hide your mighty personality and enable you to live unknown in the country
of Mastya?" Yudhishthira was in tears as he put this question to Bhima.
Bhima laughingly replied: "O king, I think of taking service as a
cook in the court of Virata. You know that I have a great appetite and that I
am also an expert in cooking. I shall please Virata by preparing such dainty
food as he has never tasted. I shall chop the trees of the forest and bring
heaps of fuel. I shall also delight the king by contending with and defeating
the wrestlers who come to his court."
This made Yudhishthira anxious for he feared
that danger might befall them if Bhima engaged himself in wrestling bouts. At
once Bhima spoke thus to calm his fears:
"I shall not kill anyone. I may give a bad
jolt to any wrestler who deserves it but I shall not kill anyone. I shall
restrain mad bulls, buffaloes and other wild animals and thus entertain king
Virata."
Afterwards Yudhishthira addressed Arjuna:
"What profession do you propose to take up? How can you hide your towering
valor?"
When he asked this question Yudhishthira could
not restrain him from narrating the brilliant exploits of Arjuna. He spoke of
his brother's glory in twenty verses. Well, who deserves praise if not Arjuna?
Arjuna replied: "Revered brother, I shall
hide myself in the guise of a eunuch and serve the ladies of the court. I shall
hide under a jacket the scars on my arms made by the constant chafing of the
bowstring. When I rejected Urvasi's amorous overtures on the ground that she
was like a mother unto me, she cursed me with loss of manhood. But through
Indra's grace the curse would hold good only for a year, and the time would be
mine to choose. I shall serve out that year of loss of manhood now. Wearing
bangles made of white conchs, braiding my hair like a woman, and clothing
myself in female attire, I shall engage myself in menial work in the inner
apartments of Virata's queen. I shall teach the women singing and dancing. And
I shall seek service saying that I used to serve Draupadi in Yudhishthira's
court." Saying this, Arjuna turned to Draupadi and smiled.
Yudhishthira was in tears. "Alas! Have the
fates decreed that he, who is the equal of Sri Krishna himself in fame and
valor, a scion of Bharata's line, who stands high like the great golden Mount
Meru, must go and seek employment of Virata as a eunuch in the queen's inner
apartments?" he said brokenly.
Yudhishthira then turned to Nakula and asked
him what work he would engage in and, as he thought of Madri, the mother of
Nakula, tears rolled down his eyes.
Nakula replied: "I shall work in King
Virata's stables. My mind delights in training and looking after horses. For I
know the heart of horses and have knowledge of their ailments and cure. I can
not only ride and break horses but also harness and drive them in a chariot. I
shall say that I had looked after the horses of the Pandavas and I have no
doubt Virata will take me in his service."
Yudhishthira asked Sahadeva: "You, with
the intelligence of Brihaspati, the priest and the preceptor of the gods, and
the knowledge of Sukra, the teacher of the asuras, what work will you take
up?"
Sahadeva replied: "Let Nakula look after
horses. I shall tend the cows. I shall guard Virata's cattle from the ravages
of disease and the attacks of wild beasts."
"O Draupadi," but Yudhishthira could
not find words to ask her what she proposed to do. She was dearer to him than
life itself, worthy of all reverence and protection, and it seemed sacrilege to
talk of service. She was a princess, the daughter of a king, nobly born,
tenderly nurtured. Yudhishthira felt choked by shame and despair.
Draupadi saw his grief and spoke these brave
words: "O best of kings, do not grieve or suffer anxiety on my account. I
shall be a sairandhri in the court of the queen of Virata, the companion and
attendant of the princess. I shall preserve my freedom and chastity, for the
attendant and companion of a princess has this right and can exercise it. I
shall pass my days in such light tasks as braiding the hair and entertaining
the women of the court with small talk. I shall represent that I had thus
served princess Draupadi in Yudhishthira's court and seek employment from the
queen. Thus shall I remain unknown to others."
Yudhishthira praised Draupadi's courage and
said: "O auspicious one, you speak as befits one of your family."
When the Pandavas thus decided, Dhaumya blessed
them and advised them thus: "Those who are engaged in service under a king
should always be vigilant. They must serve without talking too much. They may
give their counsel only when asked, and never obtrude it. They should praise
the king on befitting occasions. All things, no matter how small, may be done
only after informing the king, who is a veritable fire in human form. Do not go
too near him, nor yet appear to avoid him. Even though a person may be trusted
by the king and have great authority, still be should always behave as if he
would be dismissed immediately, It would be foolishness to place too much
confidence in a king. One may not sit in the conveyance, seat or chariot of the
king, presuming on his affection. A servant of the king should ever be active
and self-restrained. He should not be excessively elated, nor unduly depressed,
by being honored or dishonored by the king. He may not reveal the secrets
confided to him, nor may he receive anything in the form of gift from the
citizens. He should not be jealous of other servants. The king may place fools in positions of
authority, leaving aside the wise. Such waywardness should be ignored. One
cannot be too careful with the ladies of the court. There should not be the
faintest suggestion of indelicacy in one's conduct towards them."
Dhaumya then blessed the Pandavas: "Live
thus in patience for one year, serving the king Virata, and then, you will pass
the rest of your days in happiness, regaining your lost throne."
YUDHISHTHIRA
put on the garb of a sanyasin. Arjuna transformed himself into a eunuch. Others
also disguised themselves. But no disguise could take away their natural charm,
grace and nobility of appearance.
When
they went to King Virata seeking service, they seemed to him born to command
and rule rather than to serve. He hesitated, at first, to engage them in
service but yielding to their urgent solicitations, he finally appointed them
to the places they sought of him.
Yudhishthira
became the king's companion and spent his days in playing dice with him. Bhima
worked as the chief of the cooks. He also entertained the king by wrestling
with the reputed men of might whom came to the court, and by controlling wild
animals.
Arjuna
assumed the name of Brihannala and taught dancing, singing and instrumental
music to Princess Uttara, the daughter of Virata, and the ladies. Nakula looked
after the horses and Sahadeva looked after the cows and the bulls.
The
princess Draupadi who, if fate had been less cruel, should herself have been
served by many maids, had now to pass her days in serving Sudeshna, Virata's
queen. She lived in the inner apartments of the palace as maid and companion,
engaging herself in uncongenial tasks.
Kichaka,
the brother of Sudeshna, was the commander-in-chief of Virata's army and it was
to him that the old king Virata owed his power and prestige. Kichaka wielded
such vast influence that people used to say that Kichaka was the real king of
the Matsya country and old Virata king only in name.
Kichaka
was inordinately vain of his strength and his influence over the king. He was
so smitten with Draupadi's beauty that he conceived an uncontrollable passion
for her. And he was so sure of his own attractions and power that it never
occurred to him that she, though a mere maidservant could resist his will. He
made amorous overtures to her, which greatly vexed her.
Draupadi
was too shy to speak of this to Sudeshna or to others. She gave out that her
husbands were Gandharvas who would mysteriously kill those who tried to
dishonor her.
Her
good conduct and lustre made every one believe in her story about the
Gandharvas. But Kichaka was not to be frightened so easily and he sought
persistently to seduce Draupadi.
His
persecution became so intolerable that at last she complained of it to Queen
Sudeshna, and implored her protection. Kichaka, of course, had greater
influence over his sister, and he shamelessly confided to her his unlawful
passion for her maid and sought her aid to compass his wish.
He
represented himself as dying of desire. "I am so full of torment," he
said, "that from the time I met your maid, I do not get any sleep or rest.
You must save my life by managing somehow to make her receive my advances
favorably." The queen tried to dissuade him but Kichaka would not listen.
And finally Sudeshna yielded. Both of them decided upon a plan to entrap
Draupadi.
One
night, many sweetmeats and intoxicating drinks were prepared in the house of
Kichaka and a great feast was arranged. Sudeshna called Sairandhri to her side
and handing her a beautiful golden jug bade her go and bring her a jug of wine
from Kichaka's house.
Draupadi
hesitated to go to the house of the infatuated Kichaka at that hour and begged
hard that someone else of her many attendants might be sent, but Sudeshna did
not listen. She pretended to be angry and said sharply: "Go, you must. I
can not send anyone else," and poor Draupadi had to obey.
Draupadi's
fears were justified. When she reached Kichaka's house, that wretch, maddened
with lust and wine, began to pester her with urgent entreaties and
solicitations.
She
rejected his prayers and said: "Why do you, who belong to a noble royal
family, seek me, born of a low caste? Why do you take to the wrong path? Why do
you approach me, a married lady? You will perish. My protectors, the
Gandharvas, will kill you in their anger."
When
Draupadi would not yield to his entreaties, Kichaka seized her by the arm and
pulled her about. But putting down the vessel she carried, she wrenched herself
free and fled, hotly pursued by the maddened Kichaka.
She
fled to the court wailing loudly. But even there, intoxicated not only with
wine, but even more by his power and influence, Kichaka followed her and kicked
her in the presence of all with abusive words.
Everyone
was afraid of the all-powerful commander-in-chief and no one was bold enough to
oppose him.
Draupadi
could not bear the sorrow and anger she felt at the thought of her helplessness
under the intolerable insult offered to her.
Her
deep distress made her forget the danger that would befall the Pandavas if they
were discovered prematurely. She went that night to Bhima and waking him up,
gave vent to her agonized sense of wrong.
After
telling him how brutally Kichaka had pursued and insulted her, she appealed
piteously to Bhima for protection and revenge. She said in a voice choked with
sobs:
"I
cannot bear this any longer. You must kill this wretch at once. For your sake,
to help you keep your promise, I serve in a menial office and even prepare
sandal paste for Virata. I have not minded it, I, who have till now served only
you or Mother Kunti, whom I love and honor. But now, I have to serve these
wretches, fearful every moment of some disgraceful outrage. Not that I mind
hard work, see my hands." And she showed her hands, which were cracked and
stained with menial tasks.
Bhima
respectfully carried her hands to his face and eyes, and speechless with sorrow
and pity and love, he dried her tears. Finally he found his voice, and said
thickly:
"I
care not for the promise of Yudhishthira or the advice of Arjuna. I care not
what may happen but I will do as you say. I will kill Kichaka and his gang here
and now!" and he rose.
But
Draupadi warned Bhima not to be hasty. They talked it over and finally decided
that Kichaka should be beguiled to come alone at night to a retired spot in the
dancing hall where he should find waiting for him Bhima disguised as a woman,
instead of Draupadi.
Next
morning, Kichaka renewed his hateful attentions and vaingloriously said to
Draupadi: "O Sairandhri, I threw you down and kicked you in the presence
of the king. Did any one there come forward to help you? Virata is only king in
name of this Matsya country. But I, the commander-in-chief, am the real
sovereign. Now, do not be a fool, but come and enjoy life with me, with all
royal honors. I shall be your devoted servant." And he begged and bullied
and cringed, devouring her the while with lust-reddened eyes.
Draupadi
pretended to yield and said: "Kichaka, believe me, I can no longer resist
your solicitations. But none of your companions or brothers should know of our
relations. If you swear that you will faithfully keep the secret from others, I
shall yield to your wish."
Kichaka
delightedly agreed to the condition and he promised to go alone to a place of
assignation that very night.
She
said: "The women have their dancing lessons during daytime in the dancing
hall and return to their own quarters at nightfall. None will be in the dancing
hall at night. Come there tonight. I shall be waiting for you there. You can
have your will of me."
Kichaka
reveled in happiness. That night, Kichaka took his bath, perfumed and decked
himself, went to the dancing hall and finding with joy that the doors were
open, gently entered the place.
In
the very dim light, he saw someone lying there on a couch, no doubt Sairandhri.
He groped his way in the dark, and gently laid his hands on the person of the
sleeper.
Alas!
It was not the soft form of Sairandhri that he touched but the iron frame of
Bhima who lept forth on him like a lion on its prey and hurled him to the
ground. But surprised as he was, Kichaka was no coward, and he was now fighting
for dear life.
Grimly
they wrestled, Kichaka no doubt thinking he had to do with one of the Gandharva
husbands. They were not ill matched, for at that time Bhima, Balarama and
Kichaka were reputed to be in the same class in strength and wrestling skill.
The
struggle between Bhima and Kichaka was like that between Vali and Sugriva. In
the end Bhima killed Kichaka, pounding and kneading his body into a shapeless
lump of flesh.
Then
he gave the glad news of Kichaka's punishment to Draupadi and went in haste to
his kitchen, bathed, rubbed sandal paste over his body and slept with
satisfaction.
Draupadi
awoke the guards of the court and said to them: "Kichaka came to molest
me, but as I had warned him, the Gandharvas, my husbands, made short work of
him. Your commander-in-chief, who fell a prey to lust, has been killed. Look at
him." And she showed them the corpse of Kichaka, which had been reduced to
such a shapeless mass that it had no human semblance.
THE
fate of Kichaka made Draupadi an object of fear to the people of Virata.
"This woman, so beautiful that she captures all hearts, is as dangerous as
she is lovely, for the Gandharvas guard her. She is a great danger to the
people of the city and the members of the royal household, for the Gandharvas
may stop at nothing in their jealous anger. It would be best to send her out of
the city." Reflecting thus, the citizens went to Sudeshna and prayed to
her to expel Draupadi.
Sudeshna
told Draupadi: "You are, no doubt, a very virtuous lady, but kindly leave
our city. I have had enough of you."
There
was only one month more to complete the stipulated period of living incognito
and Draupadi begged earnestly to be permitted to stay just another month by
when, she said, her Gandharva husbands would have realised their objects and
would be ready to take her away with them.
The
Gandharvas would be very grateful to King Virata and his kingdom. Whether
grateful or not, the Gandharvas could be deadly if irritated and Sudeshna was
too afraid of Draupadi to refuse her request.
From
the beginning of the thirteenth year, the spies of Duryodhana, under his
express orders, had searched for the Pandavas in all possible places of hiding.
After
several months of futile search, they reported their failure to Duryodhana and
added that probably the Pandavas had perished of privations.
Then
came the news that the powerful Kichaka had been killed in single combat by
some Gandharva on account of a woman.
There
were only two persons who could kill Kichaka, and Bhima was one of them. And so
they suspected that Bhima might have been the vengeful Gandharva who had killed
Kichaka. Duryodhana also felt that the lady who was the cause of the killing might
be Draupadi. He expressed his doubts in the open assembly.
He
said: "I suspect that the Pandavas are in Virata's city. Now, he is one of
the kings who are too stiff-necked to court our friendship. It would be a good
thing to invade his country and carry away his cows. If the Pandavas are hiding
there, they will certainly come out to fight with us to repay Virata's
hospitality and we can easily spot them. If we discover them there and we can
sure before the stipulated time, they will have to go to the forest again for
another twelve, years. If, on the other hand, the Pandavas are not there, there
is nothing lost."
King
Susarma, the ruler of Trigarta heartily supported him. "The king of Matsya
is my enemy." he said, "and Kichaka has given me a lot of trouble.
Kichaka's death must have weakened Virata considerably. Give me leave to attack
Virata now."
Karna
seconded this proposition. They unanimously came to the decision that Susarma
should attack Matsya from the south and draw off the army of Virata to the
south for defence. Duryodhana, with the Kaurava army, would then launch a
surprise attack on Virata from the northern side, which would be relatively
undefended.
Susarma
invaded Matsya from the south seized the cattle and laid waste the gardens and
fields on the way. The cowherds ran in great distress to Virata, who now very
much wished that Kichaka were alive, for he surely would have made short work
of the raiders. When he said so to Kanka (the assumed name by which
Yudhishthira was known in Virata's court) the latter said: "O king, be not
worried. Even though I am a hermit, I am an expert in warfare. I shall put on
armor and go in a chariot and drive away your enemies. Please instruct that
your horse keeper Dharmagranthi, your chief cook Valala, and your stable herd
Tantripala may also get into chariots and help us. I have heard that they are
great fighters. Kindly give orders that the necessary chariots and the weapons
may be given to us."
Delighted,
Virata was only too willing to accept the offer. The chariots were ready. All
the Pandavas excepting Arjuna went out with the army of Virata to oppose
Susarma and his men.
A
fierce fight ensued between the armies of Virata and Susarma, with much loss of
life on both sides. Susarma attacked Virata and surrounded his chariot,
compelling him to get down and fight on foot.
Susarma
captured Virata and held him captive in his chariot. With the capture of
Virata, the army of Matsya lost heart and began to scatter in all directions,
when Yudhishthira commanded Bhima to attack Susarma and release Virata and
rally the scattered Matsya forces.
At
these words of Yudhishthira, Bhima was about to uproot a tree, but Yudhishthira
stopped him and said: "No such tricks, please, and no battle cry or your
identity will be revealed. Fight like anybody else from the chariot with your
bows and arrows."
Bhima
accordingly got into the chariot attacked the enemy, set Virata free and
captured Susarma. The dispersed forces of Matsya rallied into new formations
charged and defeated the army of Susarma.
As
soon as the news of Susarma's defeat reached the city, the people were
extremely jubilant. They decorated the city and went forth to welcome their
victorious king back home.
When
they were thus making preparations to receive king Virata, the big army of
Duryodhana came down on them from the north, and began despoiling the cattle
ranches on the outskirts of the city.
The
Kaurava army marched in force and rounded up the countless cows that were
there. The leader of the cowherds ran to the city and said to the prince
Uttara: "O prince, the Kauravas are marching on, robbing us of our cows.
King Virata has gone south to fight against the Trigarta. We are in
consternation as there is no one to protect us. You are the king's son and we look
to you for protection. Pray, come and recover the cows for the honor of your
family."
When
the leader of the cowherds made this complaint to Uttara in the presence of the
people and especially of the women of the palace, the prince felt flushed with
valor and proudly said:
"If
only I can get someone to be my charioteer I will recover the cows
single-handed. Well, my feats of arms will be worth seeing and people will know
there is little to choose between Arjuna and myself."
When
Uttara said these words Draupadi was in the inner apartments and must have
laughed within herself.
She
ran to princess Uttara and said: "O princess, great danger has be fallen
the country. The cowherds have complained to the young that the Kaurava army is
advancing on our city from the north and has captured cattle ranches and cows
on the outskirts. The prince is eager to fight them and is in need of a
charioteer. Should such a small thing as that stand in the way of victory and
glory? I tell you that Brihannala has been Arjuna's charioteer. When I was in
the service of the queen of the Pandavas, I heard of this fact and I also know
that Brihannala learnt archery from Arjuna. Order Brihannala immediately to go
and drive the prince's chariot."
Arjuna
as Brihannala pretended to be unfamiliar with armor and raised a laugh at his
awkwardness in wearing it.
The
women of the palace laughed at his fears and told him again not to be afraid
for Uttara would look after him.
Arjuna
spent some time in such fun but, when he harnessed the horses, it could be seen
that, at least, he was an expert charioteer. And when he held the reins, the
horses seemed to love and obey him.
"The
prince will be victorious. We shall despoil the enemy of their embroidered
robes and distribute them to you as the prize of victory" were the last
words of Brihannala to the women of the palace, as the chariot rapidly bore the
prince outwards to battle.
UTTARA,
the son of Virata, set off with enthusiasm from the city in his chariot with
Brihannala as his charioteer and commanded the latter to drive quickly to the
place where the Kauravas had rounded up the cows.
Willingly,
the horses were put to their best speed. And presently the Kaurava army was
sighted, at first a gleaming, line, enveloped in a cloud of dust that seemed to
go up to the skies.
Going
nearer, Uttara saw the great army drew in battle by Bhishma, Drona, Kripa,
Duryodhana and Karna. At that sight, his courage, which had been gradually
drying up during the rapid rush to the field, was quite gone. His mouth went
dry and his hair stood on end.
His
limbs were all in a tremble. He shut his eyes with both his hands to keep out
the fearsome sight. He said:"How can I, single-handed, attack an army? I
have no troops, since the king, my father, has taken all available forces,
leaving the city unprotected. It is absurd to think that one man can alone fight
a well-equipped army, led by world-renowned warrior! Oh Brihannala, turn back
the chariot."
Brihannala
laughed and said: "O prince, you started from the city, full of fierce
determination and the ladies expect great things of you. The citizens also have
put their trust in you. Sairandhri praised me and I have come at your request.
If we return without recovering the cows, we shall become the laughing-stock of
all. I will not turn back the chariot. Let us stand firm and fight. Have no
fear." With these words Brihannala began to drive the chariot towards the
enemy and they approached quite close to them.
Uttara's
distress was pitiable. He said in a quaking voice: "I cannot do it, I
simply cannot. Let the Kauravas march off with the cows and if the women laugh,
let them. I do not care. What sense is there in fighting people who are
immeasurably stronger than we fight? Do not be a fool! Turn back the chariot.
Otherwise, I shall jump out and walk back." With these words Uttara cast
off his bows and arrows, got down from the chariot and began to fly towards the
city, mad with panic.
This
should not be taken as something that has never happened in life. Nor is
Uttara's panic during his first battle, by any means, singular.
Fear
is a strong instinctive feeling, though it can be overcome by will-power or
strong motives like love, shame or hate, or more usually, by discipline.
Even
men who have afterwards distinguished themselves by heroic deeds have confessed
to having felt something like panic fear, the first time they came under fire.
Uttara was by no means an exceptional coward, for he fought and fell gauntly at
Kurukshetra.
Arjuna
pursued the running prince, shouting to him to stop and behave like a
Kshatriya. The braided hair of the charioteer began to dance and his clothes
began to wave as he ran in pursuit of Uttara. The prince fled hither and
thither, trying to dodge the hands that would stop him.
Those
of the Kaurava army, who could see this spectacle, found it amusing. Drona was
puzzled at the sight of Brihannala who, albeit dressed fantastically, seemed a
man rigged out as a woman and to remind him curiously of Arjuna.
When
he remarked about this, Karna said: "How can this be Arjuna? What does it
matter even if he is? What can Arjuna alone do against us in the absence of the
other Pandavas? The king has left his son alone in the city and gone with his
whole army to fight against Susarma. The young prince has brought the attendant
of the ladies of the palace as his charioteer. That is all."
Poor
Uttara was imploring Brihannala to let him go, promising untold wealth if he
did so. He appealed to his pity: "I am the only son of my mother. I am a
child grown up on my mother's lap. I am full of fear."
But,
Brihannala wanted to save him from himself, and would not let him go. He
pursued him, seized him and dragged him to the chariot by force.
Uttara
began to sob and said: "What a fool I was to brag! Alas! What will happen
to me?"
Arjuna
said kindly, soothing the prince's fears: "Be not afraid. I shall fight
with the Kauravas. Help me by looking after the horses and driving the chariot,
and I shall do the rest. Believe me, no good ever came of flight. We will rout
the enemy and recover your cows. You will have all the glory." With these
words Arjuna lifted the prince on to the chariot and, putting the reins in his
hands, asked him to drive towards a tree near the burial ground.
Drona,
who was watching all this intently, knew that the fantastically dressed
charioteer was Arjuna and shared his knowledge with Bhishma.
Duryodhana
turned to Karna and said: "Why should we worry who he is? Even if he is
Arjuna, he will be only playing into our hands, for his being discovered will send the Pandavas to
the forest for another twelve years."
As
soon as they came near the tree Brihannala bade the prince get down, climb the
tree and take down the arms hidden there. The prince said in alarm and grief:
"People say that what hangs on this tree is the corpse of an old huntress.
How can I touch a dead body? How can you ask me to do such a thing?"
Arjuna
said: "It is not a corpse, prince. I know that it contains the weapons of
the Pandavas. Climb up the tree bravely and bring them down. Do not
delay."
Seeing
that resistance was of no avail Uttara climbed up the tree as Brihannala had
asked him to and took, in great disgust, the bag tied up there and came down.
When
the leather bag was opened, he saw weapons as bright as the sun. Uttara stood
amazed at the sight of the gleaming weapons and covered his eyes.
He
mustered courage and touched them. The touch seemed to send a stream of hope
and high courage into him. He asked with ardor: "O charioteer, what a
wonder! You say that these bows, arrows and swords belong to the Pandavas. They
have been deprived of their kingdom and they have retired to the forest. Do you
know them? Where are they?"
Then
Arjuna told him briefly how they were all in Virata's court. He said:
"Kanka, who serves the king, is Yudhishthira. Valala, the cook who
prepares such nice dishes for your father, is none other than Bhima.
Sairandhri, for insulting whom Kichaka was killed, is Draupadi. Dharmagranthi,
who looks after the horses and Tantripala, the keeper of the cows, are Nakula
and Sahadeva respectively. I am Arjuna. Be not afraid. O prince, you will soon
see me defeat the Kauravas even in the sight of Bhishma, Drona and Aswatthama
and recover the cows. You will also gain renown and it will be a lesson to
you."
Then
Uttara folded his hands and said: "O Arjuna, how fortunate I am to see you
with my own eyes! So, Arjuna is the victorious hero whose very contact has put
heart and courage into me. Forgive the wrongs I have done through
ignorance."
As
they approached the Kaurava host, Arjuna recounted some of his heroic deeds, so
that Uttara might not lose grip of his newly awakened courage. Arriving in
front of the Kauravas, he got down, prayed to God, removed the conch-bangles
from his hands and put on leather gauntlets.
He
then tied a cloth on his flowing hair, stood facing the east, meditated on his
armor, got into the chariot and gloried in the familiar feel of his famous
Gandiva bow. He stringed it and thrice twanged the string whose shrill note
raised an echo from all sides.
Hearing
the sound, the heroes of the Kaurava army said to one another: "This
surely is Gandiva's voice." When Arjuna stood on the chariot in all his
godlike stature and blew his conch Devadatta, the Kaurava army was alarmed and
a frenzied shout arose that the Pandavas had come.
The
story of Uttara, who spoke boastfully in the ladies' boudoirs and fled in panic
at the sight of the hostile array, his not been introduced in the Mahabharata,
merely as a comic interlude.
It
is in ordinary human nature to look with contempt on lower levels of conduct in
ability. The rich scorn the poor, the beautiful scorn the plain, and the strong
scorn the weak. Brave men despise cowards. But Arjuna was no ordinary man. He
was a great soul and a true hero who felt that his duty as a strong, brave man
was to help others to rise above their weakness.
Knowing
that nature had endowed him with courage and bravery at birth, and that he owed
them to no special exertions on his part, he had the true humility of the
really great. And he did what he could to put courage into Uttara and make him
worthy of his lineage. This was Arjuna's characteristic nobility. He never
abused his strength and power. One of his many names is Bibhatsu, which means
one who shrank from doing an unworthy act, and he lived up to it.
THE
chariot of Arjuna thundered on its way, seeming to shake the earth. The hearts
of the Kauravas quaked when they heard the twang of the Gandiva bow.
"Our
army must be arrayed well and with care. Arjuna, has come," said Drona
anxiously. Duryodhana did not at all like the honor Drona did Arjuna by this
anxiety.
He
said to Karna: "The Pandavas' pledge was that they would spend twelve
years in the forest and the following year undiscovered. The thirteenth year
has not ended yet. Arjuna has revealed himself before the time. Why then should
we give way to fear? The Pandavas will have to go again to the forest for
another twelve years. Drona is suffering from the cold feet of the too learned.
Let us leave him in the rear and advance to the battle."
Karna
assented and said: "Our soldiers' heart is not in the fight and they are
trembling with fear. They say that the man, who stands so proudly, bow in hand,
on the chariot, speeding towards us, is Arjuna. But why need we fear even if it
were Parasurama? I will myself stop the advancing warrior and redeem my word to
you, and fight him, aye, even if all the others stand back. They may drive away
the cows of the Matsya king while, single handed, I shall give them cover,
engaging Arjuna in battle," and Karna, as usual, began to blow his own
trumpet.
When
Kripa heard these words of Karna, he said: "This is pure tomfoolery. We
must all make a combined attack on Arjuna. That would be our one chance of
success. Do not therefore, brag about your opposing him alone and
unaided."
Karna
grew angry. He said: "The acharya ever delights in singing Arjuna's
praises and in magnifying his prowess. Whether he does so from fear or
excessive fondness for the Pandavas, I do not know. Those, who are afraid, need
not fight, but may simply look on, while others, who are true to the salt they
have eaten, engage in battle. I, for one, a mere soldier who loves my friends
and hates my enemies, will stand here and fight. What business have men learned
in the Vedas, who love and praise their enemies, got here?" said he
sneeringly.
Aswatthama,
Drona's son and Kripa's nephew, could not hear unmoved this sneer at the
venerable teachers. He said sternly to Karna: "We have not yet taken the
king back to Hastinapura, and the battle is yet to be won. Your brag is idle
vainglory. It may be that we are not kshatriyas and that we belong to the class
that recites the Vedas and the sastras. But I have not been able to find in any
sastra that it is honor able for kings to seize kingdoms by cheating at dice.
Even those, who fight and conquer kingdoms, do not crow too loudly about it.
And I cannot see what you have done to be proud of. The fire is silent and yet
cooks the food. The sun shines but not on him. Likewise, Mother earth sustains
all things, movable and immovable, and supports her burden without so much as a
whisper. What claim to praise has a kshatriya who has unlawfully seized
another's kingdom at a game of dice? To have cheated the Pandavas of their
kingdom is no more a matter of glory than to have spread traps for unsuspecting
birds. O Duryodhana, O Karna, in what battle did your heroes defeat the
Pandavas? You dragged Draupadi to the assembly. Are you proud of it? You have
destroyed the Kaurava race like an empty-headed clod that fells a big sandal
tree for love of its fragrance. A fight with Arjuna, you will find, is a very
different thing from a throw of the dice. The Gandiva will send forth sharp
arrows and not fours and twos as in the game of dice. Vain fools, do you think
that Sakuni can, by mere cheating, sneak a victory in battle for you?"
The
leaders of the Kaurava army lost their patience and began a loud wordy warfare.
Seeing this, the grandsire was filled with sorrow and said:
"The
wise man does not insult his teachers. One should engage in battle only after a
careful calculation of time, place and circumstance. Even wise people often
lose their balance and good sense over their own affairs. Ruffled by anger,
even the usually so sensible Duryodhana fails to recognise that the warrior who
stands braving our army is Arjuna. His intellect has been clouded by anger. O
Aswatthama, pray do not mind Karna's offensive remarks. You must take them as
intended merely to put the preceptors on their best spirit and sting them into
action. This is not the time to nurse enmity or sow dissension. Drona, Kripa
and Aswatthama should forget and forgive. Where can the Kauravas find in the
whole world, heroes superior to Drona, the preceptor, and his son Aswatthama,
who combine in themselves Vedic scholarship and kshatriya heroism? We know of
none other than Parasurama who can equal Drona. We can conquer Arjuna only if
we all join together and fight him. Let us address ourselves to the task before
us. If we quarrel amongst ourselves we cannot fight Arjuna."
Thus
spoke the grandsire. Soothed by his noble words, angry feelings subsided.
Bhishma turned to Duryodhana and continued:
"Best
of kings, Arjuna has come. The stipulated period of thirteen years terminated
yesterday. Your calculation is wrong, as men learned in the science of
planetary movements will tell you. I knew that the period had ended when Arjuna
blew his conch. Reflect a little before deciding on war. If you wish to make
peace with the Pandavas, now is the time for it. What do you seek, a just and
honorable peace or a mutually destructive war? Ponder well and make your
choice."
Duryodhana
replied: "Revered sire, I have no wish for peace. I shall not give even a
village to the Pandavas. Let us get ready for war."
Then
Drona said: "Let prince Duryodhana take away a fourth of the army to guard
him and return to Hastinapura. Let another surround the cows and seize them. If
we return without seizing the cows it would amount to an acknowledgment of
defeat. With the rest of the army, the five of us will give battle to
Arjuna."
The
Kaurava forces ranged themselves accordingly in battle array. Arjuna said:
"O Uttara, I do not see Duryodhana's chariot or Duryodhana. I see Bhishma
standing, clad in armor. I think Duryodhana is driving away the cows to
Hastinapura. Let us pursue him and recover the cows." With these words Arjuna moved away from the Kaurava
army and went after Duryodhana and the cows.
And
as he was going, he respect fully greeted his teachers and the old grandsire,
by drawing his Gandiva bow and sending arrows so as to fall near their feet.
Reverently
saluting them in this heroic fashion, he left them and pursued Duryodhana.
Arjuna reached the place where the cows were gathered and put to rout the
marauding forces.
He
then turned to the cowherds and asked them to take the cows to the barns, which
they did with great rejoicing. Arjuna then pursued Duryodhana. Seeing this,
Bhishma and the other Kaurava warriors rushed to the rescue and, surrounding
Arjuna, sent forth arrows against him.
Arjuna
carried on a wonderful fight. First, he made at Karna and drove him from the
battlefield. After that, he attacked and defeated Drona. Seeing Drona standing
spent with fatigue, Aswatthama joined in the fight and attacked Arjuna, which
gave Arjuna an opportunity of letting Drona withdraw from the field.
Then,
there ensued a bitter struggle between Aswatthama and Arjuna. When Aswatthama
grew weary, Kripa relieved him and maintained the attack against Arjuna.
But
Kripa also sustained defeat and the whole army was routed and fled in fear.
Though rallied and brought back to the attack by Bhishma, Drona and others,
there was no fight left in them. Finally, they left the field, after a glorious
fight between Bhishma and Arjuna, which, it is said, the gods themselves came
to see.
The
attempt to head off Arjuna’s pursuit of Duryodhana thus failed and soon Arjuna
came up with Duryodhana and strongly attacked him. Duryodhana was defeated and
fled from the battlefield, but not far, because, when Arjuna taunted him with
cowardice, he turned round like a serpent and resumed the fight.
Bhishma
and others surrounded and protected him. Arjuna fought and finally, he employed
a magic weapon that made them all fall down unconscious on the battlefield.
While they were in that condition he snatched away their garments. The seizure
of the clothes of the enemy was the sign of decisive victory in those days.
When
Duryodhana came, Bhishma sent him back to the city. The whole army returned to
Hastinapura after this humiliating defeat.
Arjuna
said: "O Uttara, turn back the horses. Our cows have been regained. Our
enemies have fled. O prince, return to your kingdom, adorning your person with
sandal paste and decked with flowers."
On
the way back, Arjuna deposited the weapons as before on the tree and dressed
himself once more as Brihannala. He sent messengers in advance to proclaim in
the city that Uttara had won a glorious victory.
AFTER
defeating Susarma, king of Trigarta, Virata returned to his capital amidst the acclamations
of the citizens. When he reached his palace, he saw that Uttara was not there
and the womenfolk told him with much elation that Uttara had set out to conquer
the Kauravas.
They
had not a doubt that their hand some prince could conquer the whole world. But
the king's heart sank within him at the news, for he knew the impossible task
which the delicately nurtured prince had taken on himself with no better
following than a eunuch.
"My
dearly loved son must be dead by now," he cried, overwhelmed with anguish.
He then bade his ministers collect and send as strong a force as could be got
together for rescuing Uttara if he was still alive and bring him back. Scouts
also were immediately despatched to find out Uttara's whereabouts and fate.
Dharmaputra,
now disguised as the sanyasin Kanka, tried to comfort Virata by assuring him
that the prince could come to no harm, since Brihannala had gone as his
charioteer. "You do not know about her," said he. "I do.
Whosoever fights from a chariot driven by her, can be sure of victory. Further,
the news of Susarma's defeat must have reached there and the Kauravas must have
retreated."
Meanwhile
courtiers arrived from the field of battle with the glad news that Uttara had
defeated the Kaurava forces and recovered the kine.
This
seemed too good to be true, even to the fond father, but Yudhishthira smilingly
reassured him. Said he: "Have no doubts, O king. What the messengers say
must be true. When Brihannala went out as charioteer, success was certain.
There is nothing extraordinary in your son's victory. I happen to know that
even Indra's charioteer or Krishna's cannot equal Brihannala."
This
seemed absurd to Virata, but he was too happy to resent it. He made large gifts
of precious stones and other wealth to the messengers who brought the good news
and ordered public rejoicing. "My success over Susarma is nothing,"
he proclaimed. "The prince's is the real victory. Let special prayers of
thanksgiving be offered at all places of worship. Let all the principal streets
are decorated with flags and the citizen’s go in procession to strains of
triumphal music. Make all arrangements to receive, in a befitting manner, my
lion-hearted boy."
Virata
sent out ministers, soldiers, and maidens to welcome his son, returning in triumph.
When the king retired to his private apartments, he asked Sairandhri to bring
the dice. He said to Kanka: "I cannot contain my joy. Come, let us
play," and sat down to a game with Yudhishthira.
They
talked while they played and naturally, the king was full of his son's
greatness and prowess. "See the glory of my son, Bhuminjaya. He has put
the famed Kaurava warriors to flight."
"Yes,"
replied Yudhishthira with a smile. "Your son is indeed fortunate for,
without the best of good fortune, how could he have secured Brihannala to drive
his chariot?"
Virata
was angry at this persistent glorification of Brihannala at the expenses of
Uttara. "Why do you, again and again babble about the eunuch?" he
cried.
"While
I am talking about my son's victory, you expatiate on the charioteering skill
of the eunuch, as if that were of any significance." The king's anger only
increased when Kanka remonstrated: "I know what I am talking about.
Brihannala is no ordinary person. The chariot she drives can never see defeat,
and whoever is in it, is sure of success in any undertaking, no matter how
difficult."
Now,
this perverse flouting could not be borne, and Virata in a passion flung the
dice at Yudhishthira's face and followed this up with a blow on Yudhishthira's
cheek. Yudhishthira was hurt and blood flowed down his face.
Sairandhri
who was nearby, wiped the blood with the edge of her garment and squeezed it
into a golden cup. "Why all this fuss? What are you collecting the blood
into a cup for?" demanded the angry king, who was still in a passion.
"A
Sanyasin's blood may not be split on the ground, O king," replied
Sairandhri. "The rains will fail in your land for as many years as there
are drops in the blood that is split on the earth. That was why I collected the
blood in this cup. I fear you do not know Kanka's greatness."
Meanwhile
the gatekeeper announced: "Uttara and Brihannala have arrived. The prince
is waiting for an audience with the king." Virata got up excitedly and
said: "Ask him in, ask him in." And Yudhishthira whispered to the
sentry: "Let Uttara come alone. Brihannala should stay behind."
He
did this to prevent a catastrophe, for he knew Arjuna would be unable to
control his anger when he saw the injury on his brother's face. He could not
bear to see Dharmaputra hurt by anyone except in fair battle.
Uttara
entered and paid due homage to his royal father. When he turned to do obeisance
to Kanka be was horrified to see his bleeding face, for now he knew that Kanka
was the great Yudhishthira.
"O
king," he cried, "who was it that caused hurt to this great
one?"
Virata
looked at his son and said: "Why all this fuss about it? I struck him for
untimely and envious belittling of you when I was in an ocean of delight at the
news of your glorious victory. Each time I mentioned you, this unlucky brahmana
extolled your charioteer, the eunuch, and gave the victory to him. It was too
silly really, and I am sorry I struck him, but it is not worth talking
about."
Uttara
was overwhelmed with fear. "Alas! You have done great wrong. Fall at his
feet right now, father, and pray forforgiveness or we will be destroyed, root
and branch."
Virata,
to whom all this was inexplicable, stood with a puzzled frown not knowing what
to do. But Uttara was so anxious and importunate that he yielded and bowed to
Yudhishthira asking for pardon.
Thereafter,
embracing his son and making him sit, Virata said: "My boy, you are truly
a hero. I am in a fever of impatience to hear all about it. How did you defeat
the Kaurava army? How did you recover the kine?"
Uttara
hung his head down. "I conquered no army," he said, "and rescued
no cows. All that was the work of a god prince. He took up our cause, rescued
me from destruction, put the Kaurava soldiers to flight and brought the herd
back. I did nothing."
The
king could hardly believe his ears. "Where is that god prince?" he
asked. "I must see and thank the hero who rescued my son and beat back my
foes. I will give my daughter, Uttara, in marriage to him. Go and fetch him
in."
"He
has disappeared for the time being," replied the prince, "but I think
he will come again either today or tomorrow." Uttara spoke thus because
Arjuna was indeed a prince of the gods and had also for the time being
disappeared in Brihannala.
In
Virata's hall of assembly, all the leading citizens had gathered to celebrate
the king's victory and the prince's. Kanka, Valala the cook, Brihannala,
Tantripala and Dharmagranthi, who were responsible for the victories, arrived
also and entering the hall, to the surprise of everyone, sat among the princes
unbid.
Some
explained the conduct by saying that, after all, these humbler folk had
rendered invaluable service at a critical time and really deserved recognition.
Virata
entered the court. On seeing Kanka sanyasin and the cook and the others seated
in places reserved for princess and the nobility the king lost his temper and
gave loud vent to his displeasure.
When
they felt they had enough fun, the Pandavas disclosed their identity to the
amazement of all present. Virata was beside himself with joy to think that it
was the Pandava princes and Panchali who had been ministering to him all these
days in disguise. He embraced Kanka in exuberant gratitude and made a formal
surrender of his kingdom and his all to him, of course immediately receiving
them back with thanks. Virata also insisted that he should give his daughter in
marriage to Arjuna.
But
Arjuna said: "No, that would not be proper, for the princess learnt
dancing and music from me. I, as her teacher, am in the position of father to
her." He, however, agreed to accept her for his son Abhimanyu.
Meanwhile,
envoys arrived from the wicked and treacherous Duryodhana with a message for
Yudhishthira. "O son of Kunti," they said, "Duryodhana feels
very sorry that owing to the hasty action of Dhananjaya, you have to go back to
the woods again. He let himself be recognised before the end of the thirteenth
year and so, in accordance with your undertaking, you have to dwell in the
forest for another twelve years."
Dharmaputra
laughed and said: "Messengers, return quickly to Duryodhana and tell him
to make further inquiry. The venerable Bhishma and others learned in the stars
will no doubt tell him that full thirteen years had been completed before your
forces heard again the twang of Dhananjaya's bow and fled in fear."
THE
thirteenth year during which the Pandavas had to remain undiscovered came to an
end.
No
longer obliged to be in disguise, they left Virata's capital as Pandavas and
settled openly in Upaplavya, another place in Matsya territory. From there,
they sent emissaries to summon their friends and relatives.
From
Dwaraka came Balarama and Krishna with Arjuna’s wife Subhadra, and her son,
Abhimanyu and accompanied by many Yadava warriors. Loud and long was the blare
of trumpet-conchs as the Matsya prince and the Pandavas went forth to receive Janardana.
Indrasena
and many others like him, who had at the beginning of the preceding year left
the Pandavas in the forest, rejoined them with their chariots at Upaplavya. The
Kasi prince and Saibya ruler arrived with their forces.
Drupada,
the Panchala prince, was there too with three divisions, bringing with him
Sikhandin and Draupadi's sons and her brother Dhrishtadyumna. There were many
other princes gathered at Upaplavya, well attached to the Pandavas,
Abhimanyu's
marriage to princess Uttara was solemnized according to Vedic rites before that
illustrious gathering of friendly heroes. The wedding celebrations over, they
met in conclave in Virata's hall of assembly.
Krishna
sat next to Yudhishthira and Virata, while Balarama and Satyaki were seated
beside Drupada. As the bustle died down, all eyes were turned on Krishna, who
now rose to speak.
"You
all know," said Krishna to the hushed assembly, "the story of the
great deceit how Yudhishthira was cheated at the game board and deprived of his
kingdom and exiled with his brothers and Draupadi to the forest. For thirteen
years, the sons of Pandu have patiently borne their trouble in redemption of
their pledged word. Ponder well and counsel a course, which will be in
consonance with dharma and contribute to the glory and welfare of both Pandavas
and Kauravas. For, Dharmaputra desires nothing that he cannot justly claim. He
wishes nothing but good even to the sons of Dhritarashtra who deceived him and
did him grievous wrong. In giving your counsel, bear in mind the fraud and
meanness of the Kauravas as well as the honorable magnanimity of the Pandavas.
Devise a just and honorable settlement. We do not know what Duryodhana has in
his mind. I feel we should send an able and upright emissary to him to persuade
him to a peaceful settlement by the restoration of half the kingdom to
Yudhishthira."
Balarama
then rose to address the gathering. "You have just heard Krishna," he
said. "The solution he propounds is wise and just. I endorse it as good
for both Duryodhana and Dharmaputra. If Kunti's sons can get back their kingdom
by a peaceful settlement, nothing could be better for them, the Kauravas and
for all concerned. Only then will there be happiness and peace in the land.
Someone has to go to convey to Duryodhana Yudhishthira's wish for a peaceful
settlement and bring an answer from him, a man who has the weight and the
ability to bring about peace and good understanding. The envoy should get the
cooperation of Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, Drona and Vidura, Kripa and Aswatthama
and even of Karna and Sakuni if possible, and secure support for Kunti's sons.
He should be one who, on no account, would give way to anger. Dharmaputra, with
full knowledge of consequences, staked his kingdom and lost it, obstinately
disregarding the reasoning of friends. Fully aware that he was no match for the
adept Sakuni, he yet played against him. He cannot now complain but can only
supplicate for his rights. A fit envoy would be one who is not a warmonger but
is dead set, in spite of every difficulty, on achieving a peaceful settlement.
Princes, I desire you to approach Duryodhana tactfully and make peace with him.
Let us avoid an armed conflict by all the means in our power. Only that which
accrues in peace is worth while. Out of war, nothing but wrong can issue."
Balarama's
position was that Yudhishthira knew what he was doing when he gambled away his
kingdom and could not now claim it as of right.
The
fulfilment of the conditions of exile could only give the Pandavas their
personal freedom and not their kingdom, that is to say, they need not serve
another term of exile in the forest. But it gave them no right to the return of
their kingdom.
Dharmaputra
could only supplicate for the return of what he had lost and not claim it as of
right. Balarama did not relish an armed conflict among scions of the same
family and rightly held that war would lead only to disaster.
The
poet puts an eternal truth in Balarama's mouth.
Satyaki,
the Yadava warrior, who heard Balarama speak thus, could not contain himself.
He rose in anger and spoke indignantly:
"Balarama's
words do not strike me as in the least degree just. One can, if skilful enough,
make out a plausible plea for any case, but not all the skill in the world can
convert wrong into right or injustice into justice. I must protest against Balarama's
stand, which fills me with disgust. Do we not see in one and the same tree, one
branch bowed with fruit and another sticking out gaunt and useless? So, of
these brothers, Krishna speaks words that breathe the spirit of dharma while
Balarama's attitude is unworthy. And if you grant what cannot be doubted that
the Kauravas cheated Yudhishthira of his share of the kingdom, why then,
allowing them to keep it is as unjust as confirming a thief in the possession
of his booty! Anyone, who finds fault with Dharmaputra, does so in cowardly
fear of Duryodhana, not for any sound reason. O princes, forgive my harsh
speech. Not of his own volition but because the Kauravas pressed and invited
him to do so, did the novice and unwilling Dharmaputra play with a dishonest gambler
that game so fraught with disaster. Why should he bow and supplicate before
Duryodhana, now that he has fulfilled his pledges? Yudhishthira is not a
mendicant and need not beg. He has kept his word and so have his brothers
twelve years in exile in the forest and twelve months there after in disguise
according to their pledge. And yet, Duryodhana and his associates, most
shamelessly and dishonestly, question the performance. I shall defeat these
impudent villains in battle and they shall either seek Yudhishthira's pardon or
meet their doom. How can a righteous war be wrong in any case? There is no sin
in slaying enemies who take up arms and fight. To supplicate before the enemy,
is to incur disgrace. If Duryodhana desires war, he can have it and we shall be
quite ready for it. Let there be no delay and let us get on with the
preparations. Duryodhana is not going to part with territory without a war and
it would be folly to waste time."
Drupada's
heart was gladdened by Satyaki's resolute words. He rose and said:
"Satyaki is right and I support him. Soft words will not bring Duryodhana
round to reason. Let us continue our preparations for war and let our friends
be warned without loss of time to bring up their forces. Send word instantly to
Salya, Dhrishtaketu, Jayatsena and Kekaya. We must, of course, send a suitable
envoy to Dhritarashtra. The learned brahmana, who conducts the religious
ceremonies in my court, can be sent to Hastinapura, with confidence. Instruct
him well as to what he should say to Duryodhana and how he should convey the
message to Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Dronacharya."
When
Drupada concluded, Vasudeva (Krishna, the son of Vasudeva) rose and addressing
Drupada, said:
"What
you suggest is practicable and also conforms to the kingly code. Baladeva and I
are bound to the Kauravas and the Pandavas with equal ties of affection. We
came here for princess Uttara's wedding and will return now to our city. Great
are you among the princes of the land, alike in age and wisdom, and entitled to
advise us all. Dhritarashtra too holds you, his boyhood friends, in high esteem
like Drona and Kripa. It is therefore only right that you should instruct the
brahmana envoy on his mission of peace. If he fails to persuade Duryodhana out
of his error, prepare for the inevitable conflict, my friends, and send word to
us."
The
conference ended and Krishna left for Dwaraka with his people. The Pandavas and
their allies went on with their preparations. Messengers went forth to all the
friendly princes who got busy and mobilised their respective armies.
Meanwhile,
Duryodhana and his brothers were not idle. They also began preparing for the
coming conflict and sent word to their friends to get their contingents ready
for war.
News
of these preparations on both sides soon spread through out the land. "The
constant rapid journeying back and forth of princes caused a great stir
everywhere. The earth shook beneath the heavy tramp of marching legions,"
says the poet.
It
would appear that even in olden days, military preparations were made in much
the same way as in our times.
Drupada
called in his brahmana and said to him: "You know Duryodhana's bent of
mind as well as the qualities of the Pandavas. Go to him as the emissary of the
Pandavas. The Kauravas deceived the Pandavas with the connivance of their
father Dhritarashtra who would not listen to the sage advice of Vidura. Show
the old, weak king, who is misled by his son, the path of dharma and wisdom.
You will find in Vidura a great ally in this task. Your mission may lead to
differences of opinion among the elder statesmen such as Bhishma, Drona and
Kripa as well as among the warlords. And, if this happens, it will be some time
before those differences are smoothed out, which will be time gained for the
completion of the Pandavas war preparations. As long as you are in Duryodhana's
capital talking of peace, their preparations for war will receive a set-back
which is all to the good from the Pandavas' standpoint. If, by a miracle, you
are able to come back with good terms of peace, so much the better. I do not
expect Duryodhana will agree to a peaceful settlement. Still, to send one on a
peace mission will be advantageous to us."
In
December 1941, the Japanese were carrying on negotiations with the Americans
and, immediately on the breakdown of those talks, took them unawares and
attacked Pearl Harbor destroying their naval forces there.
Drupada's
instruction to the brahmana would show that this was no new technique. And
that, even in the old days, the same method was followed of carrying on
negotiations and even sincerely working for peace, but simultaneously
preparing, with unremitting vigor, for outbreak of war and carrying on peace
talks with the object of creating dissension in the enemy's ranks. There is
nothing new under the sun!
HAVING
sent Drupada's brahmana to Hastinapura on the peace mission, the Pandavas sent
word, at the same time, to the princes likely to favor their cause to collect
their forces and hold themselves in readiness for war. To Dwaraka, Arjuna went
himself.
Having
understood through his spies the turn events were taking, Duryodhana too did
not remain idle. Learning that Vasudeva (Krishna) was back in his home city, he
sped towards Dwaraka in his chariot, as fast as his swiftest horses could take
him. The two of them, Arjuna and Duryodhana, thus reached Dwaraka on the same
day.
Krishna
was fast asleep. Because they were his close relatives, Arjuna and Duryodhana
could go into his bedroom. There they both waited for Krishna to wake up.
Duryodhana, who went in first, seated himself on a decorated throne-chair at
the head of the bed, while Arjuna kept standing at its foot with arms folded in
respectful posture.
When
Mahadeva woke up, his eyes fell on Arjuna who stood in front of him and he gave
him warm welcome. Turning then to Duryodhana, he welcomed him too and asked
them what brought them both to Dwaraka. Duryodhana was the first to speak.
"It
looks," said he, "as though war would break out between us soon. If
it does, you must support me. Arjuna and I are equally beloved of you. We both
claim equally close relationship with you. You cannot say that either of us is
nearer to you than the other. I came here before Arjuna. Tradition has it that
he who came first should be shown preference. Janardana, you are the greatest
among the great; so it is incumbent on you to set an example to others. Confirm
with your conduct the traditional dharma and remember that it was I who came
first."
To
which Purushottama (Krishna) answered: "Son of Dhritarashtra, it may be
that you came here first, but it was Kunti's son that I saw immediately on
waking up. If you were the first arrival, it was Arjuna who first caught my
eye. So, even in this respect, your claims on me are equal and I am therefore
bound to render assistance to both sides. In distributing favors, the
traditional usage is to begin with the junior-most among the recipients. I
would, therefore, offer the choice to Arjuna first. The Narayana, my tribesmen,
are my equals in battle and constitute a host, large and almost invincible. In
my distribution of assistance, they will be on one side, and I individually on
the other. But I shall wield no weapon and take no part in actual
fighting."
Turning
to Arjuna he said, "Partha, think it over well. Would you want me, alone
and weaponless, or would you prefer the prowess of the Narayana? Exercise the
right to the first choice which custom gives you as the younger man."
Scarcely
had Krishna finished when Arjuna said with reverence and without hesitation:
"I would be content if you are with us, though you may wield no
weapon."
Duryodhana
could hardly contain himself for joy at what he thought was Arjuna's imbecile
choice. He gladly chose the help of Vasudevas army and his request was granted.
Pleased with the acquisition of a mighty force, Duryodhana went to Baladeva and
told him the story.
As
he finished speaking, the mighty Balarama said: "Duryodhana, they must
have told you all I said at the time of the marriage of Virata's daughter. I
pleaded your case and urged everything that could be said for you. Often have I
told Krishna that we have equal ties with the Kauravas and the Pandavas. But my
words failed to carry conviction to him. I am helpless. It is impossible for me
to side with one whom Krishna opposes. I will not help Partha and I cannot
support you against Krishna. Duryodhana, you come of an illustrious line, which
is respected by all the princes of the land. Well, then, if it must be war,
bear yourself in accordance with the Kshatriya code," said he.
Duryodhana
returned to Hastinapura in high spirits saying to himself: "Arjuna has
made a fool of himself. The great army of Dwaraka will fight on my side and
Balarama's good wishes too are with me. Vasudeva has been left without an
army."
"Dhananjaya,
why did you choose thus unwisely, preferring me alone and unarmed to my fully
equipped and heroic forces?" asked Krishna of Arjuna with a smile, when they
were alone. Arjuna answered:
"My
ambition is to achieve glory even like yours. You have the power and prowess to
face all the princes of the land and their hordes in battle single-handed. I
too feel I can do it. So, I desire that I should win the battle with you
driving my chariot unarmed. I have desired this for long and you have today
fulfilled my wish."
Vasudeva
smiled again and pronounced this benediction: "Are you trying to compete
with me? May you succeed," for he was pleased with Arjuna's decision. This
is the sacred story of how Krishna became Partha's charioteer.
SALYA,
the ruler of Madradesa, was the brother of Madri, the mother of Nakula and
Sahadeva. He heard that the Pandavas were camping in the city of Upaplavya and
making preparations for war.
He
collected a very big army and set off towards that city to join the Pandavas.
Salya's army was so large that where it halted for rest, the encampment
extended over a length of nearly fifteen miles.
News
of Salya and his marching forces reached Duryodhana. Deciding that Salya should
somehow be persuaded to join his side, Duryodhana instructed his officers to
provide him and his great army with all facilities and treat them to sumptuous
hospitality.
In
accordance with Duryodhana's instruction, several beautifully decorated rest
houses were erected at several places on the route, at which Salya and his men
were treated to wondrous hospitality. Food and drink were lavishly provided.
Salya
was exceedingly pleased with the attentions paid to him but assumed that his
nephew, Yudhishthira, had arranged all this. Salya's army marched on, the earth
shaking beneath their heavy strides.
Feeling
very pleased with the hospitality, he called the waiting attendants one day and
said to them:
"I
must reward you all who have treated me and my soldiers with so much love and
attention. Please tell Kunti's son that he should let me do this, and bring me
his consent."
The
servants went and told their master, Duryodhana, this. Duryodhana, who was all
the time moving unobserved with the party waiting on Salya and his soldiers, at
once took this opportunity to present himself before Salya, and say how honored
he felt at Salya's acceptance of the Kaurava hospitality.
This
amazed Salya whom till then had no suspicion of the truth, and he was also
touched by the chivalry of Duryodhana in lavishing kingly hospitality on a
partisan of the Pandavas.
Greatly
moved, he exclaimed, "How noble and kind of you! How can I repay
you?"
Duryodhana
replied: "You and your forces should fight on my side. This is the reward
I ask of you."
Salya
was stunned.
The
Puranas wherein right conduct is always preached, sometimes set out stories in
which conduct, not in conformity with Dharma, seems condoned. Is it right, one
may ask, for religious books thus to seem to justify wrong?
A
little reflection will enable one to see the matter in proper light. It is
necessary to bring home the fact that even wise, good and great men are liable
to fall into error.
That
is why the Puranas, although ever seeking to instil Dharma, contain narratives
to show how in this world even good people sometimes sin against Dharma, as
though irresistibly driven to do so.
This
is to press home the truth that howsoever learned one may be, humility and
constant vigilance are absolutely necessary if one wishes to avoid evil.
Why
indeed, did the great authors of our epics write about the lapses of Rama in
the Ramayana and Yudhishthira in the Mahabharata?
Where
was the need to make mention of them and then labor arguments to explain them
away, thereby disturbing men's minds?
It
was not as though others had discovered the lapses and Vyasa and Valmiki had to
defend their heroes. The stories are artistic creations in which lapses they
impress the desired moral.
The
parts dealing with the lapses deeply distress the reader's mind and serve as
solemn warnings of pitfalls, which wait to engulf the careless.
They
dispose the mind to humility and watchfulness and make it realise the need for
divine guidance. The modern cinema also projects on the screen much that is bad
and immoral.
Whatever
may be the explanation offered by the protagonists of the cinema, evil is
presented on the screen in an attractive fashion that grips people's minds and
tempts them into the path of wickedness.
This
is not so in the Puranas. Although they do point out that even great men now
and again fell into error and committed wrong, the presentation is such as to
warn the reader and not to allure him into evil ways.
This
is the striking difference between our epics and the modern talkies, which
arises from the difference in the character of the people who produced them.
"You
are the same unto us both. I must mean as much to you as the Pandavas. You must
agree to come to my aid," said Duryodhana.
Salya
answered: "Be it so." Flattered by Duryodhana's splendid reception,
Salya deserted the Pandavas who were entitled to his love and esteem and
pledged his word to fight on Duryodhana's side which shows what dangers may
lurk in receiving the hospitality of kings.
Feeling
that it would not be right to go back without meeting Yudhishthira, Salya then
turned to Duryodhana saying: "Duryodhana, believe me. I have given you my
word of honor. I must however meet Yudhishthira and tell him what I have
done."
"Go,
see him and return soon. And do not forget your promise to me," said
Duryodhana.
"Good
luck to you. Go back to your palace. I will not betray you." Saying this,
Salya went to the city of Upaplavya where Yudhishthira was camping.
The
Pandavas received the ruler of Madra with great eclat. Nakula and Sahadeva were
joyous beyond measure to see their uncle to whom the Pandavas narrated all
their hardships and sufferings.
When
they started talking about obtaining his help in the war that was impending,
Salya related to them the story of his promise to Duryodhana.
Yudhishthira
saw at once that it had been a mistake to take Salya's assistance for granted,
thereby letting Duryodhana forestall them.
Concealing
his disappointment as best he could, Yudhishthira addressed Salya thus:
"Great
warrior, you are bound to keep the promise you have made to, Duryodhana. You
are the equal of Vasudeva in battle and Karna will have you as his charioteer
when he seeks Arjuna's life in the battlefield. Are you going to be the cause
of Arjuna's death? Or are you going to save him then? I know I cannot fairly
ask this of you. Still I do."
To
which Salya rejoined: "My lad, I have been tricked into giving Duryodhana
my word and I shall be ranged against you in battle. But when Karna proceeds to
attack Arjuna, if I happen to be his charioteer, you may take it he will go to
battle disheartened and Arjuna shall be saved. Fear not. The sorrows and
insults, which were visited on Draupadi and you all, will soon be an avenged
memory. Henceforth, yours will be good luck. No one can prevent or alter what
has been ordained by fate. I have acted wrongly. Bear with me."
INDRA,
the Lord of the three regions, was once so drunk with pride that he quite
forgot the courteous manners and forms that the gods had hitherto observed.
When
Brihaspati, preceptor of the gods, foremost in all branches of learning, and
venerated alike by the gods and the asuras, came to his court, Indra did not
rise from his seat to receive the acharya or ask him to be seated and failed to
do the customary honors.
In
his great conceit, Indra persuaded himself to believe that the sastras allowed
him as a king in court the prerogative of receiving guests seated. Brihaspati
was hurt by Indra's discourtesy and, attributing it to the arrogance of
prosperity, silently left the assembly.
Without
the high priest of the gods, the court lost in splendor and dignity and became
an unimpressive gathering.
Indra soon realized the foolishness of his
conduct and, sensing trouble for himself from the acharya's displeasure, he
thought to make up with him by falling at his feet and asking for forgiveness.
But
this he could not do, because Brihaspati had, in his anger, made himself
invisible. This preyed on Indra's mind.
With
Brihaspati gone, Indra's strength began to decline, while that of the asuras
increased, which encouraged the latter to attack the gods. Then Brahma, taking
pity on the beleaguered gods, advised them to take unto themselves a new
acharya.
Said
he to them: "You have, through Indra's folly, lost Brihaspati. Go now to
Twashta's son Visvarupa and request that noble spirit to be your preceptor and
all will be well with you."
Heartened
by these words, the gods sought the youthful anchorite Visvarupa and made their
request to him saying: "Though young in years, you are well versed in the
Vedas. Do us the honor of being our teacher."
Visvarupa
agreed, to the great advantage of the gods for, as a result of his guidance and
teaching, they were saved from the tormenting asuras.
Visvarupa's,
mother was of the asura clan of daityas, which caused Indra to regard Visvarupa
with suspicion. He feared that because of his birth, Visvarupa might not be
quite loyal and his suspicion gradually deepened.
Apprehending
danger to himself from this descendent of the enemies of the gods, Indra sought
to entice him into error with the temptresses of his court and so weaken him
spiritually. But Visvarupa did not succumb.
The
artful and seductive blandishments of Indra's glamour girls had no effect on the
young ascetic. He held fast to his vow of celibacy. When Indra found that his
plan of seduction failed, he gave way to murderous thoughts and one day killed
Visvarupa with the Vajrayudha.
The
story goes that the world suffers vicariously for this great sin of Indra. And,
as a result of it, parts of the earth turned alkaline and became unsuitable for
cultivation and women came to be afflicted with the physical troubles and
uncleanness peculiar to them. The frothing of water is also attributed to this.
Twashta
in his great rage and grief at Indra's cruel killing of his son and, desirous
of avenging his death, performed a great sacrifice. And out of the sacrificial
flames sprang Indra's mortal enemy Vritra.
Twashta
sent him against the chief of the gods, saying: "Enemy of Indra, may you
be strong and may you kill Indra." A great battle raged between the two in
which Vritra was gaining the upper hand.
When
the battle was going against Indra, the rishis and the gods sought refuge in
great Vishnu who offered them protection and said to them: "Be not afraid.
I shall enter Indra's Vajrayudha and he will win the battle in the end."
And they returned in good heart.
They
went to Vritra and said to him: "Please make friends with Indra. You are
both equal in strength and valor."
Vritra
respectfully answered: "O blameless ones, how can Indra, and I become
friends? Forgive me. There cannot be friendship between rivals for supremacy.
Two great powers cannot coexist as you know."
The
rishis said in reply: "Do not entertain such doubts. Two good souls can be
friends and their friendship is often after hostility."
Vritra
yielded saying: "Well, then, I shall cease fighting. But I have no faith
in Indra. He might take me unawares. So I seek this boon of you, namely, that
neither by day nor by night, neither with dry weapons nor with wet ones,
neither with stone nor with wood, nor with metals, nor with arrows shall Indra
be able to take my life."
"So
be it," said the rishis and the gods.
Hostilities
ceased. But soon Vritra's fears were confirmed. Indra only feigned friendship
for Vritra but was, all the time, waiting for a suitable opportunity to slay
him.
One
evening, he met Vritra on the beach and began to attack him in the twilight.
The battle had raged for a long while when Vritra praising the Lord Vishnu,
said to Indra: "Meanest of the mean, why do you not use the unfailing
Vajrayudha? Hallowed by Hari, use it against me and I shall attain blessedness
through Hari."
Indra
maimed Vritra by chopping off his right arm but, undaunted, the latter hurled
with his left band, his iron mace at his assailant who thereupon cut down his
other arm also. When Indra disappeared into the mouth of Vritra, great was the
consternation of the gods.
But
Indra was not dead. He ripped Vritra's belly open and issuing forth went to the
nearby beach. And directing his thunderbolt at the water hurled it so that the
surf flew and hit Vritra. Vishnu having entered the foam, it became a deadly
weapon and the mighty Vritra lay dead. The long battle thus ended and the
afflicted world heaved a sigh of relief. But to Indra himself, the end of the
war brought only ignominy because his victory was secured through sin and
deceit and is went into hiding for sheer shame.
Indra's
disappearance caused the gods and the rishis great distress. For a people
without a king or a council of state to govern them cannot prosper. So they
went to the good and mighty king Nahusha and offered him the crown.
"Forgive
me, I cannot be your king. Who am I to aspire to the seat of Indra? How can I
protect you? It is impossible," he humbly objected. But they insisted,
saying: "Do not hesitate. Be anointed our king. All the merit and potency
of our penance will be yours and be an addition to your strength. The power and
the energy of everyone you set your eyes on shall be transferred to you and you
will be invincible." Thus over-powered, he agreed. Revolution is no new
thing. This story shows that, even in the world of the gods, there was a revolution
leading to Indra's dethronement and Nahusha's installation as king in his
stead. The story of Nahusha's fall is also instructive.
THE
sin of the unrighteous slaughter of Vritra pulled Indra down from his high
estate and made him a fugitive. Nahusha became the king of the gods in his
stead. Nahusha started well, assisted by the merit and the fame earned by him
while he was a king on earth. Thereafter, he fell on evil days.
The
assumption of the kingship of the gods filled him with arrogance, He lost his
humility and became filled with lawless desires.
Nahusha
indulged freely in the pleasures of heaven and gave him up to untamed and
lecherous thoughts. One day, he saw Indra's wife and became enamored of her.
Possessed by evil thoughts, he spoke in tones of command to the assembled gods:
"Why
has not Sachidevi, the wife of the king of the gods, come to me? Am I not the
king of the gods now? Send her to my house soon."
When
she learnt this, Indra's wife was indignant. In fear and distress, she went to
Brihaspati and cried out: "Preceptor, save me from this wicked
person."
Brihaspati
offered her protection. "Fear not " he said, "Indra will soon be
back. Stay here with me. You will regain your husband." When Nahusha
learnt that Sachidevi did not agree to fall in with his wishes and that she
sought and obtained shelter under Brihaspati's roof, he became exceedingly
angry.
The
king's displeasure frightened the gods. They protested: "King of the gods,
be not angry. Your anger will make the world sad. Sachidevi is another's wife,
do not covet her. Do not swerve from the path of righteousness."
But,
the infatuated Nahusha would not listen to them. Tauntingly, he said to them:
"When Indra lusted for Ahalya, where were your principles of righteousness
and good conduct? Why did you not prevent him then and why do you stop me now?
What did you do when he so shamelessly murdered Visvarupa when the latter was
in penance and where was your virtuous horror when he killed Vritra through
deceit? Sachidevi's only course is to come and live with me and it will be for
your good to get her reconciled to my proposal and leave her in my charge. So,
now set about it," ordered Nahusha.
The
affrighted gods decided to talk the matter over with Brihaspati and somehow contrive
to bring Sachidevi to Nahusha. They all went to Brihaspati and related to him
what Nahusha had said and pleaded that Sachidevi should submit to Nahusha’s
desires.
At
which, the chaste Sachidevi shook with shame and fear and cried out: "My
God! I cannot do it. I sought refuge in you. Oh brahmana, do protect me."
Brihaspati
consoled her and said: "He, who betrays one who has sought refuge, will
meet with destruction. The very earth will not let the seed, that he sows,
sprout. I will not give you up. Nahusha's end is approaching. Be not
afraid."
He
indicated a way of escape from her difficult situation by hinting that she
should pray for time, and the shrewd Sachidevi took the hint and bravely went
to Nahusha's palace.
As
soon as Nahusha saw her, pride and lust having deprived him of his senses, he
was beside himself with joy and said: "O fair one, do not tremble. I am
the lord of the three regions. There can be no sin in your becoming my
wife."
Hearing
the wicked man's words, the virtuous Indrani, Indra's wife, trembled for a
moment. Soon regaining composure she replied: "King of the gods, before I
become yours, I have a request to make. Is Indra alive or is he dead? If he is
alive, where is he? If, after making enquiries and searching for him, I do not
find him, then no sin will attach to me and I could become your wife with a
clear conscience."
Nahusha
said: "What you say is right. Go and search for him and be sure to return.
Remember the plighted word." Saying this, he sent her back to Brihaspati's
house.
The
gods went to the great Vishnu and complained to him of Nahusha. They said:
"Lord, it was your might that killed Vritra but Indra bears, the sin of
it, and ashamed and afraid to show himself in his unclean state, he has hidden
himself.
Pray
indicate a way of deliverance for him." Narayana said in reply: "Let
him worship me. He will be cleansed of sin and the evil-minded Nahusha will
meet with destruction."
Sachidevi
prayed to the goddess of chastity, and, by her grace, reached where Indra was
in hiding. Indra had reduced himself to the size of an atom and hid himself in
a fibre of the stem of a lotus plant growing in Manasarovara. He was doing
penance in that state waiting for better days. Sachidevi could not contain
herself for sorrow at her husband's plight and burst into tears. She acquainted
him with her troubles.
Indra
spoke words of courage to her. "Nahusha's end is drawing near," he
said. "Go to him by yourself and tell him that you consent to his
proposal. Ask him to come to your residence in a palanquin carried by ascetics.
Then Nahusha will be destroyed."
Sachidevi
went and pretended to agree to Nahusha's proposal as Indra had asked her to do.
Overjoyed that she had returned to him in this complaisant mood, the foolish
Nahusha burst out: "Blessed one, I am your slave and ready to do you’re
every bidding. You have been true to your word."
"Yes,
I have come back. You will be my husband. I want you to do something, which I
very much desire. Are you not the lord of the world? It is my wish that you
should come majestically to my house in a grander style than the great Vishnu
or Rudra or the asuras. Let the palanquin be borne by the seven rishis. I shall
then be glad and receive you and bid you welcome," she said.
Nahusha
fell into the trap. "What a grand idea! Your imagination is wonderful. It
pleases me exceedingly. It is but proper that the great rishis should carry me,
who am blessed with the powers of absorbing the energy of those on whom my eyes
fall. I shall do exactly as you have wished,"said he, and sent her back
home. The infatuated Nahusha called the rishis and bade them carry him on their
shoulders.
At
this sacrilege, the three worlds were aghast and trembled. But worse was to
come as the palanquin was carried along. Inflamed with thoughts of the
beautiful Sachidevi waiting for him, Nahusha was impatient to reach her soon.
So he began goading the rishi-bearers of his palanquin to go faster. And he
went so far in his mad wickedness as to kick Agastya, one of the bearers,
saying "sarpa, sarpa." (Sarpa means to move and also a serpent.) The
insanity of lust and arrogance had reached its culmination. Nahusha's cup of
iniquity was full.
"Meanest
of the mean, do thou fall from heaven and become a sarpa on earth," cursed
the rishi in his wrath. Immediately Nahusha fell headlong, down from heaven,
and became a python in the jungle and had to wait for several thousand years
for his deliverance. Indra was restored to his state. He became the king of the
gods and Sachidevi's grief ended.
Relating
this story of the sufferings of Indra and his wife to Yudhishthira and Draupadi
at Upaplavya, their uncle Salya tried to comfort them.
"Victory
awaits the patient. Those, whom prosperity makes arrogant, meet with destruction.
You, your brothers and Draupadi have gone through untold sufferings like Indra
and his wife. Your trials will soon be over and you will regain your kingdom.
The evil-minded Karna and Duryodhana will be destroyed even as Nahusha
was," said Salya.
THE
Pandavas were camping at Upaplavya in Virata's territory. From there, they sent
emissaries to all friendly rulers. Contingents arrived from all parts of the
country and soon, the Pandavas had a mighty force of seven divisions. The Kauravas
did likewise and collected an army of eleven divisions.
Then,
as now, a division was made up of all arms grouped together in accordance with
established military practice. In those days, a division consisted of 21,870
chariots, an equal number of elephants, thrice as many horses and five times as
many foot soldiers, and they were provided with weapons of all kinds and other
war equipment.
Chariots
were the "armored cars" of ancient warfare and elephants, specially
trained for war, corresponded to the " tanks" of modern times.
Drupada's
brahmana messenger reached Dhritarashtra's court. After the usual ceremonial
introduction and enquiries were over, the messenger addressed the assembled
gathering on behalf of the Pandavas:
"Law
is eternal and of inherent validity. You know this and I need not point it out
to you. Dhritarashtra and Pandu are both Vichitravirya's sons and are,
according to our usages, equally entitled to their father's property. In spite
of this, Dhritarashtra's sons have taken possession of the whole kingdom, while
Pandu's sons are without their share of the common inheritance. There can be no
justification for this. Scions of the Kuru dynasty, the Pandavas desire peace.
They are prepared to forget the sufferings they have undergone and to let
bygones be bygones. They are unwilling to resort to war, because they fully
know that war never brings any good but only destruction. Render unto them,
therefore, the things that are due to them. This would be in accordance both
with justice and with the agreement previously reached. Let there be no
delay."
After
this appeal of the messenger, the wise and brave Bhishma spoke. "By the
grace of God," he said, "the Pandavas are safe and well. Although
they have obtained the support of many princes and are strong enough for
battle, they are not bent on war. They still seek peace. To restore to them
their property is the only right thing to do."
Bhishma
had not finished when Karna angrily broke in and, turning to the messenger,
exclaimed: "O brahmana, is there anything new in what you have said? What
tortures it to tell the same old story? How can Yudhishthira claim the property
that he lost at the game board? If, now, Yudhishthira wants anything, he must
beg for it as a gift! He arrogantly prefers this absurd claim in fond reliance
on the strength of his allies, particularly Matsya and Panchala. Let me tell
you clearly that nothing can be got out of Duryodhana by threats. As the
plighted word, that the Pandavas should live undiscovered during the thirteenth
year, has been broken, they must once again go back to the forest for another
twelve years and return thereafter."
Bhishma
interposed: "Son of Radha, you speak foolishly. If we do not do as this
messenger tells us, war will be upon us in which we are certain to be defeated.
And Duryodhana and all of us are doomed to destruction." The disorder and
excitement in the assembly made Dhritarashtra intervene.
He
said to the messenger: "Having in mind the good of the world and
considering the Pandava's welfare, I have decided to send Sanjaya to them.
Please return at once and tell Yudhishthira this."
Then
Dhritarashtra called Sanjaya aside and instructed him thus: "Sanjaya, go
to the sons of Pandu and convey to them my affectionate regards and my kind
inquiries about Krishna, Satyaki and Virata. Give all the princes assembled
there my regards. Go there on my behalf and speak conciliatingly so as to
secure the avoidance of war."
Sanjaya
went to Yudhishthira on this mission of peace. After the introductory
salutations, Sanjaya thus addressed Yudhishthira in the midst of his court:
"Dharmaputra, it is my good fortune to be able to see you again with my
eyes. Surrounded by princes, you present the picture of Indra himself. The
sight gladdens my heart. King Dhritarashtra sends you his best wishes and
desires to know that you are well and happy. The son of Ambika (Dhritarashtra)
detests all talk of war. He desires your friendship and yearns for peace."
When
Dharmaputra heard Sanjaya say this, he felt glad and answered: "If so,
Dhritarashtra's sons have been saved, nay, we have all escaped a great tragedy.
I, too, desire only peace and hate war. If our kingdom is returned to us, we
will wipe out all memories of the sufferings we have undergone."
Sanjaya
spoke again: "Dhritarashtra's sons are perverse. Disregarding their
father's advice and their grandsire's wise words, they are still as wicked as
ever. But you should not lose patience. Yudhishthira, you stand ever for right
conduct. Let us eschew the great evil of war. Can happiness be gained with
possessions obtained through war? What good can we reap from a kingdom won
after killing our own relatives? Do not therefore commence hostilities. Even if
one were to gain the whole earth bounded by the ocean, old age and death are
inescapable. Duryodhana and his brothers are fools. But that is no reason why
you should swerve from rectitude or lose patience. Even if they do not give
back your kingdom, you should not abandon the supreme path of dharma."
Yudhishthira answered: "Sanjaya, what you
say is true. Rectitude is the best of possessions, but are we committing wrong?
Krishna knows the intricacies of rectitude and dharma. He wishes both sides well.
I shall do as Vasudeva orders."
Krishna
said: "I desire the welfare of the Pandavas. I desire also that
Dhritarashtra and his sons should be happy. This is a difficult matter. I think
I can settle this issue by myself going to Hastinapura. If I could obtain peace
from the Kauravas on terms that do not conflict with the welfare of all,
nothing would make me and the Pandavas happier. If I succeed in doing so, the
Kauravas will have been rescued from the jaws of death. I shall also have
achieved something good and worthwhile. Even if, through a peaceful settlement,
the Pandavas get back what is due to them, they will still serve Dhritarashtra
loyally. They desire nothing else. But they are also prepared for war if need
be. Of these two alternatives, peace and war, Dhritarashtra can choose what he
pleases."
And
Yudhishthira said to Sanjaya: "Sanjaya, go back to the Kaurava, court and
tell the son of Ambika this from me: 'Was it not through your generosity that
we obtained a share of the kingdom when we were young? You, who made me a king
once, should not deny us our share now and drive us to make a beggar's living
on the charity of others. Dear uncle, there is enough room in the world for
both of us and the Kauravas. Let there be no antagonism, therefore, between
us.' Thus should you request Dhritarashtra on my behalf. Give the grandsire my
love and regards and ask him to devise some way of ensuring that his
grandchildren live happily in amity. Convey the same message to Vidura also.
Vidura is the person who can best see what is good for all of us and advise
accordingly. Explain matters to Duryodhana and tell him on my behalf: 'My dear
brother, you made us, who were princes of the realm, live in the forest, clad
in skins. You insulted and harassed our weeping wife in the assembly of
princes. We bore all this patiently. Give us back, at least now, what is
lawfully ours. Do not covet what belongs to others. We are five. For the five
of us give at least five villages and make peace with us. We shall be content.
Say thus to Duryodhana, Sanjaya. I am prepared and ready for peace as well as
for war."
After
Yudhishthira had said these words, Sanjaya took leave of Kesava and the
Pandavas, and went back to Hastinapura.
55. Not a Needle-Point Of Territory
AFTER
he had despatched Sanjaya to the Pandavas, Dhritarashtra, filled with anxiety,
could not get a wink of sleep that night. He sent for Vidura and spent the
whole night talking to him.
"To
give the Pandavas their share of the kingdom is the safest plan," said
Vidura. "Only this can bring good to both sides. Treat the Pandavas and
your own sons with equal affection. In this case, the right course is also the
wise one."
Vidura
counselled Dhritarashtra in this manner at great length.
The
next morning Sanjaya returned to Hastinapura. And gave a full account of what
had taken place in Yudhishthira's court.
"Chiefly,
Duryodhana should know what Arjuna said: 'Krishna and I are going to destroy
Duryodhana and his followers, root and branch. Make no mistake about it. The
Gandiva bow is impatient for war. My bowstring is throbbing even without my
stretching it and from my quiver, arrows keep peeping out impatiently,
demanding when? When? Sanjaya, evil stars make the foolish Duryodhana seek war
with Krishna and myself. Not even Indra and the gods can defeat us.' Thus spoke
Dhananjaya," said Sanjaya.
Bhishma
counselled Dhritarashtra against opposing the combined might of Arjuna and
Krishna. "Karna, who boasts repeatedly that he will slay the
Pandavas", said Bhishma, "is not equal to a sixteenth part of the
Pandavas. Your sons are heading for destruction, listening to his words. When
Arjuna beat back your son's attack on Virata's capital and humbled his pride,
what was Karna able to do? When the Gandharvas took your son prisoner, where
did the invincible Karna bide himself? Was it not Arjuna who drove back the
Gandharvas?" Thus did Bhisma taunt Karna and warn the Kauravas.
"What
grandfather Bhisma says is the only proper thing to do," said
Dhritarashtra. "All wise men say, and I know, that it is best to seek
peace. But what can I do? These fools would go their own way, however loudly I
protest."
Duryodhana,
who had been listening to all this, stood up. "Father, do not worry and
tremble about our safety. We know how strong we are. That we shall win is
certain. Yudhishthira knows it too, for, giving up all hope of kingdom, he only
begs now for five villages. Is it not clear from this that he is already scared
about our eleven divisions? What can the Pandavas oppose to our eleven divisions?
Why then do you doubt our victory?" Duryodhana said to his father and
tried to cheer him up.
"My
son, let us not have war," said Dhritarashtra. "Be satisfied with
half the kingdom. It is enough if we govern that half well." Duryodhana
could stand it no longer. "The Pandavas will not receive even a
needle-point of territory," he exclaimed, and left the court. In the
excitement that prevailed, the court broke up.
Let
us now relate what the Pandavas were saying among themselves. After Sanjaya
left Upaplavya for Hastinapura, Yudhishthira said to Krishna: "Vasudeva,
Sanjaya is Dhritarashtra's alter ego. From his speech, I have divined what is
in Dhritarashtra's mind. Dhritarashtra is trying to secure peace without giving
us any territory. In my simplicity, I was glad at first when I heard Sanjaya
speak. But it soon became clear that my joy was unfounded. He then struck a
middle line and spoke desiring peace. But the words with which he ended his
message seemed to commend meekness to us, even if our just rights were denied.
Dhritarashtra has not been playing fair with us. The crisis is approaching.
There are none but you to protect us. I made my offer that we would be content
with only five villages. The wicked Kauravas will refuse even this. How can we
tolerate this height of intransigence? Only you can advise us in this crisis.
There is none but you who knows what our duty is now and can guide us in dharma
as well as in statesmanship."
Krishna
said in reply: "For the good of you both, I have decided to go to Hastinapura.
I shall go to Dhritarashtra's court and try to secure your rights without war.
If my mission succeeds, it will be for the good of the world."
Yudhishthira
said: "Krishna, pray do not go. What is the good of your going to the
enemies' place now? The perverse Duryodhana will stick to his folly. I do not
like your going among those unscrupulous men. We cannot let you jeopardise your
safety, for the Kauravas will stop at nothing."
Krishna
answered: "Dharmaputra, I know how wicked Duryodhana is. But still we
should make all attempts at a peaceful solution so as to give the world no
cause to accuse us of not having done everything possible to avert war. We must
omit nothing, no matter how slender our hopes of success. Have no fears for my
safety, for, if the Kauravas offer me, a messenger of peace, any threat of
bodily harm, I will reduce them to ashes."
Said
Yudhishthira: "You are all-knowing. You know our hearts as well as theirs.
In expounding matters and in the art of persuasion, there is none better than
you."
Krishna
said: "Yes, I know you both. Your mind ever clings to righteousness and
theirs is always steeped in hatred, jealousy and enmity. I will do all I can to
secure the result, which I know is dear to you, a settlement reached without
war even though it may have, but little for you. The signs are ominous and
portend war. Still duty demands that we should make the attempt for
peace."
Thus
saying, Krishna took leave of the Pandavas and set off in his chariot to
Hastinapura.
SATYAKI
accompanied Govinda (Krishna) to Hastinapura. Before setting out on his
journey, Krishna had a lone discussion with the Pandavas. Even the mighty
Bhima, rather surprisingly, supported a peaceful settlement.
"Let
not the race be destroyed. Peace is very much to be preferred," said he.
The poet Vyasa makes Bhima speak thus in order to show that truly great
warriors desire peace, and that to seek peace is not a sign of fear.
But
Draupadi could not forget her humiliation. Holding her locks in her hand she
stood before Krishna, and in a voice quivering with grief, she said:
"Madhusudana, look at these tresses of mine and do what honor requires to
be done. There can be no peace with honor. Even if Arjuna and Bhima are against
war, my father, old though he is, will go to battle, supported by my children.
Even if my father can keep out, my children, with Subhadra's son Abhimanyu, at
their head, will fight the Kauravas. I have, for the sake of Dharmaputra, these
thirteen years, suppressed the burning flame of anger within me. I can restrain
myself no longer." And she sobbed, remembering the great outrage.
Krishna
was moved and said: "Weep not. Dhritarashtra's sons will not listen to my
words of peace. They are going to fall and their bodies will be food for wild dogs and jackals. You will live to
see us victorious and the insult to you will be fully avenged, and that too,
soon." Draupadi was satisfied.
Madhava
(Krishna) halted for the night near the city of Kucasthala. When news of
Krishna's forthcoming visit came, the city was in great excitement.
Dhritarashtra
issued orders for decorating the city and arrangements for receiving Janardana
(Krishna) were in full swing. Dhritarashtra issued instructions that
Duhsasana's palace, being bigger and more beautiful than Duryodhana's, should
be got ready and placed at the disposal of Krishna and his entourage and large
tents were erected at several places outside the city, along the route which
Krishna's chariot was to take.
Dhritarashtra
consulted Vidura. He said to him: "Make arrangements for presenting
Govinda with chariots and elephants. Presents of other kinds should also be got
ready." But Vidura said:
"Govinda
cannot be bought with presents. Give him that for which he is coming to the
land of the Kurus. Does he not come here seeking a peaceful settlement? Make
that possible. You cannot satisfy Madhava with other gifts."
When
Govinda reached Hastinapura, the citizens had thronged in such numbers in the
decorated streets that his chariot could only progress very slowly. He went
first to Dhritarashtra's palace and then proceeded to Vidura's house. Kuntidevi
met him there.
Thinking
of the sufferings of her sons and overpowered by grief, she wept. Krishna
comforted her and, taking leave of her, made for Duryodhana's palace.
Duryodhana
gave Govinda welcome and invited him to dinner, but Krishna said with a smile:
"Emissaries eat only after their mission is fulfilled. You may give a
feast when my work here is completed."
Declining
Duryodhana's invitation, he returned to Vidura's house where he rested.
Vidura
and Krishna took counsel together. Vidura told him that Duryodhana's arrogance
was based on his confidence that no one could defeat him as long as Bhishma and
Drona, who, he knew, were under a moral obligation not to abandon him, stood by
him.
Vidura
said that it would be a mistake for Govinda even to enter the wicked man's
court. All, who knew Duryodhana and his brothers, apprehended that they would
plot, through fraud and deceit, against Krishna's life.
"What
you say about Duryodhana is true. I have not come here with any hope that I
would be able to secure a peaceful settlement, but only in order that the world
might not hold me to blame. Have no fear for my life," said Krishna.
The
next morning, Duryodhana and Sakuni came to Krishna and informed him that
Dhritarashtra was waiting for him. Govinda went to the court along with Vidura.
As
Vasudeva came into the court, that great assemblage of kings stood up. Saluting
the elders with folded hands and with a word or a smile for the others, Krishna
took his seat. The introductions over, Govinda rose from his seat and, turning
to Dhritarashtra explained the object of his visit. He made clear what the
Pandavas wanted.
"Dhritarashtra,
do not bring ruin to your people. You regard as bad what is good for you and as
good what is bad. It is your duty to restrain your sons. The Pandavas are
prepared for war but they desire peace. They wish to live in happiness under
you. Treat them also as your sons and devise an honorable solution, and the
world will acclaim you," said Krishna.
Dhritarashtra
said: "My friends know that I am not to blame. I desire precisely what
Madhava has stated but I am powerless. My wicked sons do not listen to me.
Krishna, I entreat you to advise Duryodhana."
Krishna
turned to Duryodhana and said: "You are the descendant of a noble line.
Pursue the path of dharma. Your present thoughts are unworthy and befit only
men of low birth. On account of you, this famous line is in danger of being
destroyed. If you listen to reason and justice, the Pandavas themselves will
install Dhritarashtra as king and you as the heir apparent. Make peace with
them by giving them half the kingdom."
Bhishma
and Drona also pressed Duryodhana to listen to Govinda. But Duryodhana's heart
could not be softened. "I pity Dhritarashtra and Gandhari whom Duryodhana
is dooming to bereavement and desolation by his misdeeds," said Vidura.
Dhritarashtra
once again said to his son: "If you do not listen to Govinda's advice, our
race will perish."
Drona
and Bhishma also tried repeatedly to persuade Duryodhana and turn him from
error. Duryodhana was furious with everyone for pressing him in this matter to
agree to a peaceful solution. He rose, and said:
"Madhusudana,
you wrong me out of love for the Pandavas. The others here also blame me, but I
do not think I am one whit to blame
in this matter. The Pandavas, of their own
volition, staked their kingdom at play and, being defeated, justly forfeited
it. How am I responsible for it? Losing the game, they went to the forests as
in honor bound. For what fault of mine do they now seek battle and wish to slay
us? I will not yield to threats. When I was young, the elders did us grievous
wrong by giving the Pandavas, I do not know why, a part of the kingdom to which
they had not a shadow of a right. I acquiesced then but they lost it at play. I
refuse to return it to them. I am utterly blameless. I will not give the
Pandavas an inch of land, not even a needle-point of it!"
When
Duryodhana said that he had not committed wrong, Govinda laughed and said:
"The play was fraudulently arranged by you in conspiracy with Sakuni and
you afterwards insulted Draupadi in an assembly of princes. And yet, you have
the impudence to say that you have committed no wrong," and reminded him
of the other iniquities he had perpetrated against the Pandavas.
Duhsasana
seeing that Bhishma and others were accepting Krishna's indictment of
Duryodhana said: "Brother, it seems that these people have a plot to bind
you with ropes and hand you over to the Pandavas. Let us get away from
here," and Duryodhana, accompanied by his brothers, walked out of the
court.
Govinda
addressed the court again and said: "Sires, the Yadavas and Vrishnis live
happily, now that Kamsa and Sisupala are dead. In order to save a whole people,
it is some times necessary to sacrifice an individual. Does it not happen
occasionally that a village is abandoned in order that the country may be
saved? I am afraid you will have to sacrifice Duryodhana if you want to save
your race. That is the only way."
Dhritarashtra
said to Vidura: "Bring far-sighted Gandhari here. It is possible that
Duryodhana might listen to her." Gandhari was sent for and, when she came
to the court, Duryodhana was sent for.
Duryodhana,
his eyes red with anger, returned and Gandhari tried by all the means in her
power to bring him round to reason. Duryodhana said 'No' and again walked out
of the hall.
He
and his friends had plotted to seize Krishna. News of this reached the court.
Govinda, who had anticipated all this, laughed and disclosed his divinity.
The
blind Dhritarashtra, by the grace of Krishna, temporarily regained his sight
and was able to see Krishna in his Visvarupa presence in every form.
"Pundarikaksha,
(lotus-eyed Krishna) having seen your Visvarupa, I do not wish to see anything
else. I ask that I should be blind again," said Dhritarashtra, and he
became blind again. "All our efforts have failed. Duryodhana is
obstinate," said Dhritarashtra to Govinda.
And
Krishna rose and, with Satyaki and Vidura on either side of him, left the
court.
He
went straight to Kunti. He told her what had happened and she asked him to
convey her blessings to her sons.
"The time has come," said she,
"for that for which a kshatriya woman brings forth sons. May you protect
my sons!"
A
kshatriya mother brings forth children to be sacrificed in war. Purushottamat
(Krishna as Supreme Being) got into his chariot and sped towards Upaplavya. War
became a certainty.
ANY
ray of hope there might have been of a peaceful settlement when Krishna went to
Hastinapura was extinguished when he returned and narrated what happened. Kunti
was overwhelmed with grief when she learnt that it was to be war to the death.
"How
can I" reflected Kunti, "give my thoughts tongue and say to my sons,
'Bear the insults. Let us not ask for any territory and let us avoid war'? How
can my sons accept what is contrary to kshatriya tradition?"
"At
the same time," she thought, "what can be gained by mutual killings
in the war and what happiness attained after the destruction of the race? How
shall I face this dilemma?" Thus was she tormented by the prospect of
wholesale destruction on the one hand and the claims of kshatriya honor on the
other.
"How
can my sons defeat the mighty three combined, Bhishma, Drona and Karna? They
are warriors who have never yet met defeat. When I think of them, my mind
trembles. I do not worry about the others. These three are the only people in
the Kaurava army capable of fighting the Pandavas with any hope of slaying
them. Of these, Dronacharya might refrain from killing my children from either
love or unwillingness to meet one's own disciples in battle. The grandsire will
certainly not want to kill them. But Karna is the Pandavas' chief enemy. He is
anxious to please Duryodhana by killing my sons. Karna is a great man-at-arms.
As I think of him engaged in battle against my other sons, my heart is consumed
with agony like a faggot in the fire. Now is the time for me, to seek Karna out
and tell him the truth about his birth, on knowing which, he is bound to
abandon Duryodhana's cause."
Tormented
by these anxious thoughts about her children. Kunti went to the banks of the
Ganga where Karna usually offered his daily prayers.
Karna
was there at his devotions. Facing east and with uplifted hands he was in deep
meditations. Kunti quietly stood behind him and waited.
Karna
was in meditation and was unmindful of everything until he felt the hot rays of
the sun on his back.
His
prayers over, Karna looked back to find Kunti standing behind him and holding
the hem of his upper garment over her head to shield it from the burning sun.
That
Pandu's queen and the mother of the Pandava princes should be there, waiting
patiently for him to finish his prayers, filled him with great confusion and
amazement.
"The
son of Radha and the chariot-driver Adhiratha bows to you. I am at your
service. What can I do for you, O queen?" asked Karna, according to the
established forms of respectful address.
"Karna,"
said Kuntidevi, "you are not Radha's son, nor is the charioteer your
father. Do not think that you are a man of the chariot-driver's caste. You are
Surya's son born out of the womb of Pritha of royal blood, otherwise known as
Kunti. May good fortune attend you"!
She
then narrated the story of his birth. "You who were born with full armor
and golden earrings," said Kunti, "not knowing that the Pandavas are
your brothers, have joined Duryodhana and have come to hate them. To live in
dependence on Dhritarashtra's sons, does not befit you. Join Arjuna and be one
of the kings of the realm. May you and Arjuna put down the wicked! The whole
world will be at your feet. Your fame will reach far and wide, like that of the
brothers Balarama and Krishna. Surrounded by your five brothers, your
effulgence will be like that of Brahma among the gods. In perplexing
situations, one must do what gives satisfaction to loving parents. This is the
highest dharma according to our scriptures."
When
his mother spoke thus to him at the end of his devotions to the sun, Karna felt
a sign in his heart that the Sun god endorsed Kunti's request. But he checked
himself and took it to mean that the Sun god was testing his loyalty and
strength of mind. He should not be found wanting.
With
an effort of the will, he controlled alike the temptations of self-interest and
the prompting of natural affection. He said sadly but firmly: "What you
have said, dear mother, is contrary to dharma. If I swerve from the path of
duty, I shall have done myself much more hurt than any that an enemy might
inflict on me in the battlefield. You deprived me of all that was my birthright
as a kshatriya when you threw me, a helpless babe, into the river. And now, you
talk to me of my duties as a kshatriya. You denied me the motherly love, which
blesses all life. And now, thinking of your other children's good, you tell me
this story. If I now join the Pandavas, will not the world proclaim that I have
done so out of fear? I have eaten the salt of Dhritarashtra's sons, won their
confidence as their champion and enjoyed all the consideration and kindness
they showed me. And now you want me, when the battle is about to be joined, to
be untrue to my salt and go over to the Pandavas. The sons of Dhritarashtra look
on me as the ark, which will enable them to cross the deluge of war. I have
myself urged them into this war. How can I now desert them? Could there be
blacker treachery and baser ingratitude? What in life, or beyond it, would be
worth a price like that? Mother dear, I must discharge my debt, aye, with life,
if necessary; otherwise, I shall be no better than a common thief purloining my
food all these years. I shall surely use all my followers against your sons in
this coming war. I cannot deceive you. Please forgive me."
"But
yet," continued he, "I cannot have my mother plead completely in vain. Part with Arjuna
to me. Either he or myself must die in this war. I will not kill your other
sons, whatever they may do unto me. Mother of warrior sons, you will still have
five sons. Either I or Arjuna will survive this war. And with the other four
sons, you will still have five".
When
Kunti heard her first-born speak thus firmly, adhering to the kshatriya code,
her heart was full of tumultuous and contrary feelings and, without trusting
herself to speak. She embraced him and departed in silence.
"Who
can go against what has been ordained?" she thought. "He has, at
least, offered not to harm four of my sons. That is enough. May God bless
him," and she returned home.
GOVINDA
reached Upaplavya and told the Pandavas what had happened in Hastinapura.
"I
spoke urging what was right and what was also good for them. But, it was all in
vain. There is now no way out except the fourth, that is, the last alternative
of war. The foolish Duryodhana would not listen to the advice tendered to him
by the elders in the assembly. We must now prepare for war without delay.
Kurukshetra is waiting for the holocaust."
"There
is no longer any hope of peace," said Yudhishthira, addressing his
brothers, and issued orders for marshalling their forces in, battle array.
They
formed the army in seven divisions and appointed Drupada, Virata,
Dhrishtadyumna, Sikhandin, Satyaki, Chekitana and Bhimasena at the head of each
division. They then considered who should be appointed Generalissimo.
Addressing
Sahadeva, Yudhishthira said: "We should select one of these seven to be
Supreme Commander. He should be one capable of successfully facing the great
Bhishma, who can burn enemies to ashes. He should be one who knows how to
dispose his forces as circumstances require from time to time. Who do you think
is most fitted for this responsibility?"
In
the olden days, it was the practice to ascertain the views of younger people
first, before consulting elders. This instilled enthusiasm and self-confidence
in the younger folk. If the elders were consulted first, it would not be
possible for others to speak with freedom, and even honest differences of
opinion might savor of disrespect.
"Let
us take as our Supreme Commander the king of Virata who helped us when we lived
in disguise and with whose support we now demand our share of the
kingdom," replied Sahadeva.
"It
seems to me best to make Drupada the Generalissimo, for, in point of age,
wisdom, courage, birth and strength, he is supreme," said Nakula.
"Drupada,
the father of Draupadi, has learnt archery from Bharadwaja, and has for long
been waiting for an encounter with Drona. He is much respected by all kings,
and is supporting us, as if we were his own sons. He should lead our army
against Drona and Bhishma."
Dharmaputra
then asked Dhananjaya for his opinion. "I think, Dhrishtadyumna should be
our chief in the battlefield. The hero who has his senses under control and who
has been born to bring about Drona's end. Dhrishtadyumna alone can withstand
the arrows of Bhishma whose skill in archery made even the great Parasurama
hold back. He is the only man fitted to be our commander. I can think of no one
else," replied Arjuna.
Bhimasena
said: "O king, what Arjuna says is true, but the rishis and elders have
said that Sikhandin has come into the world to kill Bhishma. My inclination
would be to give the command to Sikhandin whose radiant face is like that of
Parasurama. I do not think any one else can defeat Bhishma."
Yudhishthira
finally asked Kesava for his opinion. "The warriors mentioned are, each
one of them, worthy of selection," said Krishna. "Any one of them
would fill the Kauravas with fear. All things considered, I would endorse
Arjuna's choice. Anoint Dhrishtadyumna, therefore, as your Supreme
Commander."
Accordingly,
Dhrishtadyumna, Drupada's illustrious son, who led Draupadi at the swayamvara
and gave her away to Arjuna, who for thirteen long years was brooding over the
insult that his sister had to suffer in Duryodhana's court, and who was waiting
for an opportunity to avenge the wrong, was anointed Supreme Commander of the
Pandava army.
The
lion-roar of warriors, the blowing of conchs and shells and the trumpeting of
elephants rent the air, With warlike cheers which made the sky ring, the
Pandava army entered Kurukshetra in martial array.
BALARAMA,
the illustrious brother of Krishna, visited the Pandavas, in their encampment.
As Halayudha (plough bearer), clad in blue silk, entered majestically like a
lion. Yudhishthira, Krishna and others gave the broad-shouldered warrior a glad
welcome. Bowing to Drupada and Virata, the visitor seated himself beside
Dharmaputra.
"I
have come to Kurukshetra," said he, "learning that the descendants of
Bharata have let themselves be overwhelmed by greed, anger and hatred and that
the peace talks have broken down and that war has been declared."
Overcome
by emotion, he paused for a while and then continued: "Dharmaputra,
dreadful destruction is ahead. The earth is going to is a bloody morass strewn
with mangled bodies! It is an evil destiny that has maddened the kshatriya
world to foregather here to meet its doom. Often have I told Krishna,
'Duryodhana is the same to us as the Pandavas. We may not take sides in their
foolish quarrels.' He would not listen to me. His great affection for Dhananjaya
has misled Krishna and he is with you in this war which I see he has approved.
How can Krishna and I be in opposite camps? For Bhima and Duryodhana, both of
them my pupils, I have equal regard and love. How then can I support one
against the other? Nor can I bear to see the Kauravas destroyed. I will
therefore have nothing to do with this war, this conflagration that will
consume everything. This tragedy has made me lose all interest in the world and
so I shall wander among holy places."
Having
thus spoken against the calamitous war, Krishna's brother left the place, his
heart laden with sorrow and his mind seeking consolation in God.
This
episode of Balarama’s, keeping out of the Mahabharata war is illustrative of
the perplexing situations in which good and honest men often find themselves.
Compelled
to choose between two equally justifiable, but contrary, courses of action, the
unhappy individual is caught on the horns of a dilemma. It is only honest men
that find themselves in this predicament. The dishonest ones of the earth have
no such problems, guided as they are solely by their own attachments and
desires, that is, by self-interest.
Not
so the great men who have renounced all desire. Witness the great trials to
which, in the Mahabharata, Bhishma, Vidura, Yudhishthira and Karna were put.
We
read in that epic how they solved their several difficulties. Their solutions
did not conform to a single moral pattern but reflected their several
individualities. The conduct of each was the reaction of his personality and
character to the impact of circumstances.
Modern
critics and expositors sometimes forget this underlying basic factor and seek
to weigh all in the same scales, which is quite wrong. We may profit by the way
in which, in the Ramayana, Dasaratha, Kumbhakarna, Maricha, Bharata and
Lakshmana reacted to the difficulties with which each of them was faced.
Likewise,
Balarama's neutrality in the Mahabharata war has a lesson. Only two princes
kept out of that war. One was Balarama and the other was Rukma, the ruler of
Bhojakata. The story of Rukma, whose younger sister Rukmini married Krishna, is
told in the next chapter.
BHISHMAKA,
the king of Vidarbha, had five sons and an only daughter, Rukmini, a princess
of matchless beauty, charm and strength of character.
Having
heard of Krishna and his renown, she wished to be united to him in wedlock and
the desire daily grew in intensity. Her relatives approved the idea, all except
her eldest brother Rukma, the heir apparent, between whom and Krishna there was
no love lost.
Rukma
pressed his father not to give Rukmini in marriage to the ruler of Dwaraka but
to marry her instead to Sisupala, the king of Chedi. The king being old,
Rukma's became the dominant voice and it looked as though Rukmini would be
compelled to marry Sisupala.
Rukmini,
whose heart was wholly Krishna's because she was Lakshmi incarnate, was
disconsolate. She feared that her father would be helpless against her
domineering brother and would not be able to prevent the unhappy marriage.
Mustering
all her strength of mind, Rukmini resolved somehow to find a way out of her
predicament. She took counsel with a brahmana whom, abandoning all maidenly
reserve, she sent as her emissary to Krishna, charging him to explain matters
to her beloved and sue for help.
The
brahmana accordingly went toDwaraka and conveyed to Krishna Rukmini's sad
plight and her entreaty, and handed to him the letter Rukmini had sent through
him. The letter ran as follows:
"My
heart has already accepted you as lord and master. I charge you therefore to
come and succour me before Sisupala carries me off by force. The matter cannot
brook any delay; so you must be here tomorrow. Sisupala's forces, as well as
Jarasandha's, will oppose you and will have to be overcome before you can have
me. May you be the triumphant hero and capture me! My brother has decided to
marry me to Sisupala and, as part of the wedding ceremonies, I am going to the
temple along with my retinue to offer worship to Parvati. That would be the
best time for you to come and rescue me. If you do not turn up, I will put an
end to my life so that I may at least join you in my next birth."
Krishna
read this and immediately mounted his chariot. At the king's behest,
Kundinapura, the capital of Vidarbha, was most gorgeously decorated and
preparations for the wedding of the princess with Sisupala were in full swing.
The
bridegroom elect and his associates, all sworn enemies of Krishna, had already
assembled in the capital. Balarama came to know of Krishna's sudden and secret
departure, all by himself.
Guessing
that it must be about the daughter of the king of Vidarbha and anxious lest
Krishna should be hemmed in alone by mortal enemies thirsting for his blood, he
hurriedly assembled a great force and marched on to Kundinapura.
Leaving
her apartments, Rukmini, accompanied by her retinue, went in procession to the
temple, where divine service was held.
"Oh
Devi," implored Rukmini, praying for her intercession. "I prostrate
myself before thee who knowest my devotion. Grant that Krishna may espouse
me."
Stepping
out of the temple, Rukmini sighted Krishna's chariot and ran straight as a
needle to the attracting magnet. She fled to him and got into his chariot. And
Krishna drove off with her, to the bewilderment of all around.
The
servants ran to Rukma, the heir apparent, and related what had happened.
"I will not return without killing Janardana," swore Rukma, and went
in pursuit of Krishna with a large force.
But,
meanwhile, Balarama had arrived with his army, and a great battle ensued
between the two opposing forces in which the enemy was utterly routed. Balarama
and Krishna returned home in triumph, where Rukmini's wedding with Krishna was
celebrated with customary rites.
The
defeated Rukma was ashamed to return to Kundinapura and built at the very site
of the battle between Krishna and himself a new city, Bhojakata, over which he
ruled.
Hearing
of the Kurukshetra battle, Rukma arrived there with a huge force. Thinking that
he could thereby win the friendship of Vasudeva, he offered help to the
Pandavas.
"Oh
Pandavas," said he addressing Dhananjaya, "the enemy forces are very
large. I have come to help you. Give me the word and I shall attack whichever
sector of the enemy formation you would like me to. I have the strength to
attack Drona, Kripa or even Bhishma. I shall bring you victory. Only let me
know your wish."
Turning
to Vasudeva, Dhananjaya laughed.
"Oh,
ruler of Bhojakata," said Arjuna, "we are not afraid of the size of
the enemy forces. We have no need of your help and do not particularly desire
it. You may either go away or stay on, just as you like."
At
this, Rukma was filled with anger and shame and went to Duryodhana's camp with
his army. "The Pandavas have refused my proffered assistance." Said
he to Duryodhana. "My forces are at your disposal."
"Is
it not after the Pandavas rejected your assistance that you have come
here?" exclaimed Duryodhana, and added: "I am not in such dire need
yet as to welcome their leavings."
Rukma,
thus put to disgrace by both sides, returned to his kingdom without taking part
in battle. Neutrality in war may be of several kinds.
It
may arise from conscientious objection to war or it may be due to mere conceit
and self-interest. Yet others may keep aloof through cowardice or sheer
inertia.
Balarama
was neutral in the Mahabharata war because of his love of peace. Rukma, on the
other hand, abstained as a result of his conceit.
Instead
of acting according to dharma, he thought of personal glory, and neither side
would have him.
IT
was the day before the commencement of the great battle. The grandsire, now the
Kaurava Generalissimo, was with Duryodhana seeking to inspire him with his own
heroic spirit and cheerfulness.
Bhishma
spoke of the strength, skill and prowess of the warriors ranged on the
Kauravas' side. Duryodhana was cheered up. Presently, Karna became the subject
of their talk.
"Karna
has earned your affection," said Bhishma, "but I do not think much of
him. I do not like his great hatred of the Pandavas, and he is too boastful.
There is no limit to his arrogance and he is much given to disparaging others.
I would not place him in the highest rank among the warriors of the land.
Besides, he has given away the divine armor with which he was born. He is not
therefore likely to be of great help to me in this battle. The curse of
Parasurama is on him too. His command of supernatural weapons will fail him in
his hour of need, for he will not be able to remember the mantras. And the
battle that will ensue between him and Arjuna will prove fatal for Karna."
Thus
spoke Bhishma without mincing matters, and this was exceedingly unpalatable to
Duryodhana and Karna. To make matters worse, Drona agreed with the grandsire
and said:
"Karna
is full of pride and overconfidence, which will cause him to be neglectful of the finer points of strategy, and
through carelessness, he will suffer defeat."
Enraged
by these harsh words, Karna turned to the grandsire with flaming eyes.
"You sir," said he, "have always slighted me through mere dislike
and envy and have never neglected an opportunity of humiliating me, though I
gave you no reason. I bore all your taunts and thrusts for the sake of
Duryodhana. You have said that I would not be of much help in the impending
war. Let me tell you my settled conviction, it is you, not I, who will fail the
Kauravas. Why hide your real feelings? The fact of the matter is that you have
no genuine affection for Duryodhana, but he does not know it. Hating me you
seek to come between me and Duryodhana and poison his mind against me. And in
furtherance of your wicked design, you have been belittling my strength and
running me down. You have stooped to behavior unworthy of a kshatriya. Age
alone does not confer a title to honor and respect among warriors, but prowess
does. Desist from poisoning our relations."
Turning
then to Duryodhana, Karna said:
"Illustrious
warrior, think well and look to your own good. Do not place too great a
reliance on the grandsire. He is trying to sow dissension in our ranks. His
appraisement of me will injure your cause. By running me down, he seeks to
dampen my enthusiasm. He has become senile and his time is up. His arrogance
does not let him have regard for anyone else. Age must be respected and
experience is useful but, as the sastras warn us, there is a point when age
becomes senility and ripeness falls into rottenness and decay. You have made
Bhishma your Generalissimo who will, I have no doubt, earn some fame from the
heroic deeds of others. But I will not bear arms while he is in command. Only
after he has fallen will I do so."
The
arrogant man is never conscious of his own arrogance. When accused of it, he
charges the accuser with that very fault. His judgment is warped and he
considers it a crime on the part of anyone to point out his defect. This is
well illustrated in this episode.
Controlling
his anger, Bhishma replied: "Son of Surya, we are in a crisis and that is
why you have not ceased to live this moment. You have been the evil genius of
the Kauravas." Duryodhana was in distress.
"Son
of Ganga, I need the help of you both," he said. "You will both do
deeds of great heroism, I have no doubt. At the break of dawn, the battle
joins. Let there be no fighting among friends, with the foe in full force
before us!"
But
Karna was adamant in that he would not take up arms so long as Bhishma was in
supreme command. Duryodhana eventually yielded to Karna and suffered him to
carry out his threat.
Karna
kept out during the first ten days of the battle, though all his men
participated in it. At the end of the tenth day, when the great Bhishma lay on
the battlefield covered all over with arrows, Karna went to him and bowed
reverently and asked for forgiveness and blessings, which he received.
Thereafter,
Karna cooperated and himself proposed Drona for the command of the Kaurava
forces in succession to Bhishma. When Drona also fell, Karna took over the
command and led the Kaurava forces.
ALL
was ready for the battle. The warriors on both sides gathered together and
solemnly bound themselves to honor the traditional rules of war.
The
code of conduct in war and methods of warfare vary from time to time. It is
only if what was in vogue at the time of the Mahabharata war is kept in mind
that we can understand the epic. Otherwise, the story would be puzzling in
places.
From
what follows, the reader may have some idea of the rules of warfare followed in
the Kurukshetra battle. Each day, the battle was over at sunset, and the
hostiles mixed freely like friends.
Single
combats might only be between equals and one could not use methods not in
accordance with dharma. Thus those who left the field or retired would not be
attacked. A horseman could attack only a horseman, not one on foot.
Likewise,
charioteers, elephant troops and infantrymen could engage themselves in battle
only with their opposite numbers in the enemy ranks.
Those
who sought quarter or surrendered were safe from slaughter. Nor might one, for
the moment disengaged, direct his weapons against another who was engaged in
combat.
It
was wrong to slay one who had been disarmed or whose attention was directed
elsewhere or who was retreating or who had lost his armor. And no shafts were
to be directed against non-combatant attendants or those engaged in blowing
conchs or beating drums.
These
were the rules that the Kauravas and the Pandavas solemnly declared they would
follow.
The
passage of time has witnessed many changes in men's ideas of right and wrong.
Nothing is exempt from attack in modern warfare.
Not
only are munitions made the target of attack, but dumb animals such as horses,
camels, mules and medical stores, nay, non-combatants of all ages, are
destroyed without compunction.
Sometimes
the established conventions went overboard even in the Mahabharata war.
We
see clearly in the story that occasional transgressions took place for one
reason or another. But, on the whole, the accepted rules of honorable and
humane war were observed by both sides in the Kurukshetra battle. And the
occasional violations were looked upon as wrong and shameful.
Addressing
the princes under his command, Bhishma said: "Heroes, yours is a glorious
opportunity. Before you, are the gates of heaven wide open. The joy of living
with Indra and Brahma awaits you. Pursue the path of your ancestors and follow
the kshatriya dharma. Fight with joy and attain fame and greatness. A kshatriya
does not wish to die of disease or old age in his bed but prefers to die on the
battlefield," and the princes responded by ordering their trumpets to be
sounded and shouted victory to the Kauravas.
On
Bhishma's flag shone brightly the palm tree and five stars. On Aswatthama's the
lion tail fluttered in the air.
In
Drona's golden-hued standard, the ascetic's bowl and the bow glistened, and the
cobra of Duryodhana's famed banner danced proudly with outspread hood.
On
Kripa's flag was depicted a bull, while Jayadratha's carried a wild boar.
Likewise others and the battlefield thus presented a pageant of flags.
Seeing
the Kaurava forces ranged in battle array, Yudhishthira gave orders to Arjuna:
"The
enemy force is very large. Our army being smaller, our tactics should be
concentration rather than deployment that will only weaken us. Array our
forces, therefore, in needle
formation."
Now,
when Arjuna saw men arrayed on both sides for mutual slaughter, he was deeply
agitated and Krishna spoke to him in order to quell his agitation and remove
his doubts.
Krishna's
exhortation to Arjuna at this juncture is the Bhagavad Gita, which is enshrined
in millions of hearts as the Word of God. The Bhagavad Gita is acknowledged by
all as one of the supreme treasures of human literature.
Its
gospel of devotion to duty, without attachment or desire of reward, has shown
the way of life for all men, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, who have sought
for light in the dark problems of life.
63. Yudhishthira Seeks Benediction
EVERYTHING
was ready for the battle to begin. At this tense moment, both armies saw with
amazement Yudhishthira, the steadfast and brave son of Pandu, suddenly doff his
armor and put away his weapons. Descending from his chariot, he proceeded on
foot towards the commander of the Kaurava forces.
"What
is this that Yudhishthira is doing?" asked everyone and was puzzled by
this sudden and silent proceeding on the part of the Pandava.
Dhananjaya
too was perplexed and he jumped down from his chariot and ran to Yudhishthira.
The other brothers and Krishna also joined.
They
feared that perhaps Yudhishthira, surrendering to his natural inclination, had
suddenly decided to seek peace on any terms and was going forward to announce
this.
"King,
why are you proceeding to the enemy's lines in this strange manner? You have
told us nothing. The enemy is ready for battle, their soldiers sheathed in
armor and with uplifted weapons. But you have doffed your armor and thrown
aside your weapons and are proceeding forward, unattended and on foot. Tell us
what you are about." Thus said Arjuna to Dharmaputra. But Yudhishthira was
immersed in deep thought and proceeded forward silently.
Then
Vasudeva, who knew the hearts of men, smiled and said: "He is going to the
elders to ask for their benediction before commencing this terrible fight. He
feels it is not right to start such a grave proceeding without formally taking
such benediction and permission. He goes to the grandsire to take his blessing
and that of Dronacharya. So he goes unarmed. It is right that he does this. He
knows proprieties. It is only thus that we might fare well in this
battle."
The
men in Duryodhana's army, when they saw Yudhishthira advancing with hands
clasped in humble attitude, thought: "Here is the Pandava coming to sue
for peace, frightened at our strength. Truly this man brings disgrace to the
race of kshatriyas. Why was this coward born among us?" Thus did they talk
among themselves reviling Dharmaputra though delighted at the prospect of
securing victory without a blow.
Yudhishthira went through the lines of
soldiers armed from head to foot and proceeded straight to where Bhishma was
and, bending low and touching his feet in salutation, said:
"Grandsire,
permit us to begin the battle. We have dared to give battle to you, our
unconquerable and incomparable grandsire. We seek benediction before beginning
the fight."
"Child,"
replied the grandsire, "born in the race of Bharatas, you have acted
worthily and according to our code of conduct. It gives me joy to see this.
Fight and you will have victory. I am not a free agent. I am bound by my
obligation to the king and must fight on the side of the Kauravas. But you will
not be defeated."
After
thus obtaining the permission and the blessings of the grandsire, Yudhishthira
went to Drona and circumambulated and bowed, according to form, to the acharya,
who also gave his blessings, saying:
"I am under inescapable obligations to the
Kauravas, O son of Dharma. Our vested interests enslave us and become our
masters. Thus have I become bound to the Kauravas. I shall fight on their side.
But yours will be the victory."
Yudhishthira
similarly approached and obtained the blessings of Kripacharya and uncle Salya
and returned to the Pandava lines.
The
battle began, commencing with single combats between the leading chiefs armed
with equal weapons. Bhishma and Partha, Satyaki and Kritavarma, Abhimanyu and
Brihatbala, Duryodhana and Bhima, Yudhishthira and Salya, and Dbrishtadyumna
and Drona were thus engaged in great battles.
Similarly,
thousands of other warriors fought severally according to the rules of war of
those days.
Besides
these numerous single combats between renowned warriors, there was also
indiscriminate fighting among common soldiers. The name of "sankula
yuddha" was given to such free fighting and promiscuous carnage. The
Kurukshetra battle witnessed many such "sankula" fights wherein countless
men fought and died in the mad lust of battle. On the field lay piles of
slaughtered soldiers, charioteers, elephants and horses. The ground became a
bloody mire in which it was difficult for the chariots to move about. In modern
battles there is no such thing as single combats. It is all
"sankula."
The
Kauravas fought under Bhishma's command for ten days. After him, Drona took the
command. When Drona died, Karna succeeded to the command. Karna fell towards
the close of the seventeenth day's battle. And Salya led the Kaurava army on
the eighteenth and last day.
Towards
the latter part of the battle, many savage and unchivalrous deeds were done.
Chivalry and rules of war die hard, for there is an innate nobility in human
nature. But difficult situations and temptations arise which men are too weak
to resist, especially when they are exhausted with fighting and warped with
hatred and bloodshed.
Even
great men commit wrong and their lapses thereafter furnish bad examples to
others, and dharma comes to be disregarded more and more easily and frequently.
Thus does violence beget and nourish adharma and plunge the world in
wickedness.
DUHSASANA
was leading the Kaurava forces and Bhimasena did the same on the Pandava side.
The noise of battle rolled and rent the air. The kettledrums, trumpets, horns
and conchs made the sky ring with their clamor.
Horses
neighed, charging elephants trumpeted and the warriors uttered their
lion-roars. Arrows flew in the air like burning meteors. Fathers and sons,
uncles and nephews slew one another forgetful of old affection and ties of
blood. It was a mad and terrible carnage. In the forenoon of the first day's
battle the Pandava army was badly shaken. Wherever Bhishma's chariot went, it
was like the dance of the destroyer. Abhimanyu could not bear this and he
attacked the grandsire. When the oldest and the youngest warriors thus met in
battle, the gods came to watch the combat. Abhimanyu's flag, displaying the
golden karnikara tree brightly waved on his chariot.
Kritavarma
was hit by one of his arrows and Salya was hit five times. Bhishma himself was
hit nine times by Abhimanyu's shafts. Durmukha's charioteer was struck by one
of Abhimanyu's sword-edge arrow and his severed head rolled on the ground.
Another
broke Kripa's bow. Abhimanyu's feats brought down showers of flowers from the
gods who looked on. Bhishma and the warrior supporting him exclaimed:
"Indeed, a worthy son to Dhananjaya!"
Then
the Kaurava warriors made a combined attack on the valiant youth. But he stood against
them all. He parried with his own all the shafts discharged by Bhishma.
One
of his well-aimed arrows brought the grandsire's palm tree flag down. Seeing
this, Bhimasena was overjoyed and made a great lion-roar that further inspired
the valiant nephew. Great was the grandsire's joy, seeing the valor of the
young hero. Unwillingly, he had to use his full strength against the boy.
Virata, his son Uttara, Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Drupada and Bhima came to
relieve the young hero and attacked the grandsire who then turned his
attentions on them.
Uttara,
the son of Virata, rode an elephant and led a fierce charge on Salya. Salya's
chariot horses were trampled to death and thereupon he hurled a javelin at
Uttara. It went with unerring aim and pierced him in the chest.
The
goad he had in his hand dropped and he rolled down dead. But the elephant did
not withdraw. It continued charging until Salya cut off its trunk and hit it in
many places with his arrows. And then it uttered a loud cry and fell dead. Salya
got into Kritavarma's car.
Virata's
son Sveta saw Salya slay his younger brother. His anger rose, like fire fed by
libations of butter. And he drove his chariot towards Salya. Seven chariot
warriors at once came up in support of Salya and protected him from all sides.
Arrows
were showered on Sveta and the missiles sped across like lightning in clouds.
Sveta defended himself marvelously. He parried their shafts with his own and
cut their javelins down as they sped towards him. The warriors in both armies
were amazed at the skill displayed by Sveta. Duryodhana lost no time now and
sent forces to relieve Salya. Whereupon there was a great battle. Thousands of
soldiers perished, and numerous were the chariots broken and the horses and
elephants killed. Sveta succeeded in putting Duryodhana's men to flight and he
pushed forward and attacked Bhishma.
Bhishma's
flag was brought down by Sveta. Bhishma, in his turn, killed Sveta's horses and
charioteer. There upon, they hurled javelins at one another and fought on.
Sveta
took a mace, and swinging it, sent it at Bhishma's car which was smashed to
pieces. But the grandsire, even before the mace dashed against the chariot, had
anticipated it and jumped down. From the ground he pulled the string of his bow
to his ear and sent a fatal arrow at Sveta. Sveta was struck and fell dead.
Duhsasana blew his horn and danced in joy. This was followed by a great attack
on the Pandava army by Bhishma.
The
Pandava forces suffered greatly on the first day of the battle. Dharmaputra was
seized with apprehension, and Duryodhana's joy was unbounded. The brothers came
to Krishna and were engaged in anxious consultations.
"Chief
among Bharatas," said Krishna to Yudhishthira, "do not fear. God has
blessed you with valiant brothers. Why should you entertain any doubts? There
is Satyaki and there are Virata, Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna, besides myself.
What reason is there for you to be dejected? Do you forget that Sikhandin is
awaiting for his predestined victim Bhishma?" Thus did Krishna comfort
Yudhishthira.
THE
Pandava army, having fared badly on the first day of the battle,
Dhrishtadyumna, the Generalissimo, devised measures to avoid a repetition of
it. On the second day, the army was most carefully arrayed and everything was
done to instil confidence.
Duryodhana,
filled with conceit on account of the success on the first day, stood in the
center of his army and addressed his warriors.
"Heroes
in armor", he said in a loud voice, "our victory is assured. Fight
and care not for life."
The
Kaurava army, led by Bhishma, again made strong attack on the Pandava forces
and broke their formation, killing large numbers.
Arjuna,
turning to Krishna, his charioteer, said: "If we continue in this way, our
army will soon be totally destroyed by the grandsire. Unless we slay Bhishma, I
am afraid we can not save our army."
"Dhananjaya,
then get ready. There is the grandsire's chariot," replied Krishna, and
drove straight towards him.
The
chariot sped forward at a great pace. The
grandsire sent his shafts welcoming the challenge. Duryodhana had ordered his
men to protect the grandsire most vigilantly and never to let him expose
himself to danger.
Accordingly,
all the warriors, supporting the grandsire, at once intervened and attacked
Arjuna who, however, fought on unconcerned.
It
was well known that there were but three on the Kaurava side who could stand
against Arjuna with any chance of success the grandsire Bhishma, Drona and
Karna. Arjuna made short work of the warriors, who intervened in support of Bhishma.
The
way in which he wielded his great bow on this occasion, extorted the admiration
of all the great generals in the army. His chariot flashed hither and thither
sundering hostile ranks like forked lightning, so rapidly that the eye ached to
follow its career.
Duryodhana's
heart beat fast as he watched this combat. His confidence in the great Bhishma
began to be shaken.
"Son
of Ganga," Duryodhana said, "it seems as if even while you and Drona
are alive and fighting, this irresistible combination of Arjuna and Krishna
will destroy our entire army. Karna whose devotion and loyalty to me are most
genuine stands aside and does not fight for me only because of you. I fear I
shall be deceived and you will not take steps quickly to destroy Phalguna
(Arjuna)."
The
gods came down to watch the combat between Bhishma and Arjuna. These were two
of the greatest warriors on earth. Both chariots were drawn by white steeds.
From
either side flew arrows in countless number. Shaft met shaft in the air and
sometimes the grandsire's missile hit Arjuna's breast and that of Madhava
(Krishna). And the blood flowing made Madhava more beautiful than ever as he
stood like a green palasa tree in full bloom with crimson flowers.
Arjuna's
wrath rose when he saw his dear charioteer hit and he pulled his bow and sent
well-aimed arrows at the grandsire. The combatants were equal and the battle
raged for a long while.
In
the movements the chariots made they were so close to one another and moved
about so fast that it was not possible to say where Arjuna was and where
Bhishma. Only the flag could be distinguished.
As
this great and wonderful scene was enacted in one part of the field, at another
place a fierce battle was being fought between Drona and his born enemy
Dhrishtadyumna, the son of the king of the Panchalas and brother of Draupadi.
Drona's
attack was powerful and Dhrishtadyumna was wounded badly. But the latter
retaliated with equal vigor and with a grin of hatred he shot arrows and sped
other missiles at Drona.
Drona defended himself with great skill. He
parried the sharp missiles and the heavy maces hurled at him with his arrows
and broke them to pieces even as they sped in the air.
Many
times did Dhrishtadyumna's bow break, hit by Drona's arrows. One of Drona's
arrows killed the Panchala prince's charioteer. Thereupon Dhrishtadyumna took
up a mace and, jumping down from the chariot, went forward on foot.
Drona
sent an arrow that brought the mace down. Dhrishtadyumna then drew his sword
and rushed forward like a lion springing on its elephant prey. But Drona again
disabled him and prevented his advance.
Just
then Bhima, who saw the Panchala's predicament, sent a shower of arrows on
Drona and carried Dhrishtadyumna to safety in his chariot.
Duryodhana
who saw this sent the Kalinga forces against Bhimasena. Bhima killed the
Kalinga warriors in great number. Like Death itself he moved about among his
enemies and felled them to the ground. So fierce was the destruction that the
entire army trembled in fear.
When
Bhishma saw this, he came to relieve the Kalingas. Satyaki, Abhimanyu and other
warriors came up in support of Bhima. One of Satyaki's shafts brought Bhishma's
charioteer down and the horses of Bhishma's chariot, left uncontrolled, bolted
carrying Bhishma away from the field.
The
Pandava army was wild with enthusiasm when Bhishma's chariot sped thus out of
the field. They took advantage of the situation and made a fierce attack on the
Kaurava army.
Great
was the loss the Kaurava army suffered in that day's battle as a result of
Arjuna's deeds of valor. The generals of the Kaurava army were greatly
perturbed and their previous day's enthusiasm had all disappeared.
They
eagerly looked forward to sunset when there would be an end to the day's
battle. As the sun sank in the west, Bhishma said to Drona: "It is well we
stop the fighting now. Our army is disheartened and weary."
On
the side of the Pandavas, Dhananjaya and others returned in great cheer to
their camp, with bands playing. At the end of the second day's battle, the
Kauravas were in the mood that the Pandavas were in the previous evening.
ON
the morning of the third day Bhishma arrayed his army in eagle formation and
himself led it while Duryodhana and his forces protected the rear. So great was
the care taken over every detail that the Kauravas were certain that there
could be no mishap for them that day.
The
Pandavas too arrayed their forces with skill. Dhananjaya and Dhrishtadyumna
decided in favor of a crescent formation of their army so as more effectually
to cope with the eagle formation of the enemy's forces.
On the right horn of the crescent stood
Bhima and on the left Arjuna, leading the respective divisions. The battle
began. All arms were at once engaged and blood flowed in torrents and the dust
that was raised by chariots, horses and elephants rose to hide the sun.
Dhananjaya's
attack was powerful but the enemy stood firm. A counter-attack was made by the
Kauravas concentrating on Arjuna's position. Javelins and spears and other
missiles flew in the air shining like forked lightning in a thunderstorm.
Like
a great cloud of locusts the shafts covered Arjuna's chariot. But with amazing
skill he raised a moving fortification around his chariot with arrows
discharged in an unending stream from his famous bow.
At another point Sakuni led a large
force against Satyaki and Abhimanyu. Satyaki's chariot was broken to pieces and
he had to scramble up Abhimanyu's chariot and thereafter both fought from the
same chariot.
They
were able to destroy Sakuni's forces. Drona and Bhishma jointly attacked
Dharmaputra's division and Nakula and Sahadeva joined their brother in opposing
Drona's offensive.
Bhima
and his son Ghatotkacha attacked Duryodhana's division and in that day's battle
the son appeared to excel his great father in valor.
Bhima's
shafts hit Duryodhana and he lay in swoon in his chariot. His charioteer
quickly drove the chariot away from the scene. He feared that the Kaurava
forces would be completely demoralised if they saw that the prince had been disabled.
But
even this movement created great confusion. Bhimasena took full advantage of
the position and worked havoc among the fleeing Kaurava forces.
Drona
and Bhishma who saw the discomfiture and confusion of the Kaurava army came up
quickly and restored confidence. The scattered forces were brought together and
Duryodhana was again seen leading them.
"How
can you stand thus," said Duryodhana to the grandsire, "looking on
when our forces are scattered and put to disgraceful flight? I fear you are too
kind to the Pandavas. Why did you not tell me frankly 'I love the Pandavas; Dhrishtadyumna
and Satyaki are my friends and I cannot attack or slay them.' You should have
stated the position explicitly to me. Surely these men are not equal to you.
And if you were so minded, you could deal with them easily. Even now, it would
be best if you and Drona told me frankly your mind in the matter."
The
chagrin of defeat, and the knowledge that the grandsire disapproved of his ways
made Duryodhana speak thus bitterly. But Bhishma merely smiled and said:
"Wasn't I quite frank in my advice to you? That advice you rejected when
you decided on war. I tried to prevent the war but, now that it has come, I am
fulfilling my duties by you with all my might. I am an old man and what I am
doing is quite my utmost."
Saying
thus, the grandsire resumed his operations. The turn of events in the forenoon
had been so much in their favor that the delighted Pandavas were now somewhat
careless.
They
did not expect Bhishma to rally his forces and attack them again. But stung by
Duryodhana's reproaches, the grandsire raged about the field like a destroying
fire.
He
rallied his men and delivered the most severe attack yet made on the Pandava
army. The latter thought that the grandsire had multiplied himself into a
number of Bhishmas fighting at several points. So swift were his movements that
afternoon.
Those
who opposed him were struck down and perished like months in the fire. The
Pandava army was thoroughly broken and began to scatter. Vasudeva, Partha and
Sikhandin tried hard to restore
order and confidence, but were unsuccessful.
"Dhanjaya,"
said Krishna, "now has the critical time come. Be true to your decision
not to flinch from your duty to kill in battle Bhishma, Drona and all the other
friends and relatives and respected elders. You have pledged yourself to it and
you have now to carry it out. Otherwise our army is lost beyond redemption. You
must now attack the grandsire."
"Drive
on," said Arjuna.
As
Dhananjaya's chariot sped on towards Bhishma, it met a hot reception from the
grandsire, who covered it with his arrows.
But,
Arjuna bent his bow and discharged three shafts that broke the grandsire's bow.
Bhishma picked up another bow but it too met the same fate. The grandsire's
heart was gladdened when he saw Arjuna's skill in archery.
"Hail,
brave warrior!" applauded the grandsire, even as, taking up another bow;
he poured shafts on Arjuna's chariot with unerring aim.
Krishna was not happy at the way Arjuna
met the attack. The grandsire's bow was working fiercely. But Arjuna's hands
did not do their best, for his heart was not in it.
He
had too much regard for his great grandsire. Krishna thought that, if Arjuna
went on like this, the army, which had been so badly demoralized already, would
be utterly destroyed and all would be lost.
Krishna
managed the chariot skilfully, but in spite of it, both he and Arjuna were hit
many times by Bhishma's arrows.
Janardana's
(Krishna) anger rose. "I can stand this no longer, Arjuna. I shall kill
Bhishma myself if you will not do it!" he exclaimed, and dropping the
reins, he took up his discus and jumped down from the chariot and dashed
forward towards Bhishma.
Bhishma
was far from being perturbed at this. On the contrary, his face expanded with
ecstatic joy. "Come, come, Oh Lotus-eyed One!" he exclaimed.
"I
bow to you, Oh Madhava. Lord of the World, have you indeed come down from the
chariot for my sake? I offer you my life. If I be slain by you, I shall be
glorified in the three worlds. Give me that boon. May your hands take this life
away and save me for eternity."
Arjuna
was distressed to see this. He jumped down and ran after Krishna. Overtaking
him with great difficulty, he entreated Krishna to turn back.
"Do
not lose your patience with me. Desist and I promise not to flinch," he
said, and persuaded Krishna to return. The chariot reins were again in
Krishna's hands. Arjuna attacked the Kaurava forces furiously and thousands
were slain by him.
THE
battle was very much the same every day and the narrative is one of monotonous
fighting and killing. Still, the great battle is the central event in the
Mahabharata and, if we skip over it, we cannot fully understand the epic heroes
of that crowded stage.
At
break of day, Bhishma arrayed the Kaurava forces again. Surrounded by Drona,
Duryodhana and others, the grandsire looked verily like great Indra, holding
his thunder bolt, surrounded by the devas.
The
Kaurava army, with its chariots, elephants and horses all arrayed in battle
order and ready for the fight, presented the appearance of the sky in a great
thunderstorm.
The
grandsire gave orders for advance. Arjuna watched the hostile movements from
his chariot, whereon the Hanuman flag was waving, and he too got ready.
The
battle commenced. Aswatthama, Bhurisravas, Salya, Chitrasena and the son of
Chala surrounded Abhimanyu and attacked him. The warrior fought like a lion
opposing five elephants.
Arjuna
saw this combined attack on his son and, with a wrathful lion roar joined his
son whereat the tempo of fighting flared up. Dhrishtadyumna also arrived with a
large force. The son of Chala was killed.
Chala
himself now joined and he with Salya, made a strong attack on Dhrishtadyumna.
The latter's bow was severed into two by a sharp missile discharged by Salya.
Abhimanyu
saw this and sent a shower of arrows on Salya and put him in such danger that
Duryodhana and his brothers rushed to Salya's help. Bhimasena also appeared on
the scene at this juncture.
When
Bhima raised his mace aloft, Duryodhana's brothers lost courage. Duryodhana,
who saw this, was exceedingly angry and immediately charged against Bhima with
a large force of elephants.
As
soon as Bhima saw the elephants coming up, he descended from his chariot, iron
mace in hand, attacked them so fiercely that they scattered in a wild stampede,
throwing the Kaurava ranks into disorder.
It
will be seen that even in our Puranic stories elephants fared as badly in
battle as they did in the wars of the Greeks and the Romans. Bhima's attack on
the elephants was like Indra's devastating onslaught on the winged mountains.
The
slaughtered elephants lay dead on the field like great hills. Those that
escaped fled in panic and caused great havoc in the Kaurava army, trampling
numerous soldiers in their wild race. Duryodhana, thereupon, ordered a
wholesale attack on Bhima.
But
he stood firm as a rock and presently, the Pandava warriors came up and joined
him. A number of Duryodhana's arrows struck Bhima's chest and he climbed up his
chariot again.
"Visoka,
now is the glad hour," said Bhima to his charioteer. "I see a number
of Dhritarashtra's sons before me, ready to be shaken down like ripe fruits on
a tree. Keep your hold well on the reins and drive on. I am going to dispatch
these wretches to Yama's abode." Bhima's arrows would have killed
Duryodhana then and there, had it not been for his armor.
Eight
of Duryodhana's brothers were slain in that day's battle by Bhima. Duryodhana
fought fiercely. Bhima's bow was smashed by one of Duryodhana's arrows. Taking
up a fresh bow, Bhima sent an arrow with a knife-edge at Duryodhana that cut
the latter's bow into two.
Not
baffled by this, Duryodhana took up a fresh bow and discharged a well-aimed
shaft which struck Bhima on his chest with such force that he reeled and sat
down.
The
Pandava warriors now poured a great shower of arrows on Duryodhana.
Ghatotkacha, who saw his father sit dazed with the force of the blow, got
exceedingly angry and fell on the Kaurava army, which was unable to stand
against his onslaught.
"We
cannot fight this Rakshasa today." said Bhishma to Drona. "Our men
are weary. It is nearing sunset and
at night of the Rakshasas grows stronger with the darkness. Let us deal with
Ghatotkacha tomorrow."
The
grandsire ordered his army to retire for the night. Duryodhana sat musing in
his tent, his eyes filled with tears. He had lost many of his brothers in that
day's battle.
"Sanjaya,"
exclaimed Dhritarashtra. "Every day, you give me nothing but bad news. Your
tale has ever been one of sorrow, of defeat and loss of dear ones! I cannot
stand this any more. What stratagem can save my people? How are we going to win in this fight? Indeed,
I am full of fear. It seems fate is more powerful than human effort."
"King
" said Sanjaya in reply, "is this not all the result of your own
folly? Of what avail is grief? How can I manufacture good news for you? You
should hear the truth with fortitude."
"Ah!
Vidura's words are coming true," said the blind old king, plunged in great
grief.
"I
AM like a shipwrecked man seeking to save himself by swimming in a storm tossed
ocean. I shall surely drown, overwhelmed in this sea of sorrow."
Again
and again, when Sanjaya related the happenings of the great battle, Dhritarashtra
would thus lament, unable to bear his grief.
"Bhima
is going to kill all my sons," he said. "I do not believe there is
anyone with prowess enough in our army to protect my sons from death. Did
Bhishma, Drona, Kripa and Aswatthama look on unconcerned when our army fled in
terror? What indeed is their plan? When and how are they going to help
Duryodhana? How are my sons to escape from destruction?"
Saying
thus, the blind old king burst into tears.
"Calm yourself, King," said
Sanjaya. "The Pandavas rest on the strength of a just cause. So, they win.
Your sons are brave but their thoughts are wicked. Therefore, luck does not
favor them. They have done great injustice to the Pandavas, and they are
reaping the harvest of their sins. The Pandavas are not winning by charms or
magic incantations. They are fighting according to the practice of kshatriyas.
Their cause being just, they have strength. Friends advised you, but you
discarded wise counsel. Vidura, Bhishma, Drona and I tried to stop you in your unwise
course, but you did not listen and you went on. Like a foolish sick man who
refuses to drink bitter medicine, you obstinately refused to follow our advice,
which would have saved your people, preferring to do as your foolish son
desired. You are in distress now. Last night, Duryodhana asked Bhishma the same
question as you put to me now. And Bhishma gave the same answer as I give
you."
When
the fighting was stopped on the evening of the fourth day, Duryodhana went by
himself to Bhishma's tent and, bowing reverently, said:
"Grandsire,
the world knows that you are a warrior who knows not fear. The same is the case
with Drona, Kripa, Aswatthama, Kritavarma, Sudakshin, Bhurisravas, Vikarna and
Bhagadatta. Death has no terror for these veterans. There is no doubt, the
prowess of these great warriors is limitless, even like your own. All the
Pandavas combined cannot defeat any one of you. What then is the mystery behind
this daily defeat of our army at the hands of the sons of Kunti?"
Bhishma
replied: "Prince, listen to me. I have given you advice on every occasion
and told you what was good for you. But, you have always refused to follow what
your elders counselled you to do. Again, I tell you that it is best for you to
make peace with Pandu's sons. For your good as well as for that of the world,
that is the only course that should be followed. Belonging to the same royal
house, you can all enjoy this vast country as yours. I gave you this advice,
but you disregarded it and have grievously wronged the Pandavas, the fruit of
which you are now reaping. The Pandavas are protected by Krishna himself. How
then can you hope for victory? Even now, it is not loo late for making peace
and that is the way to rule your kingdom, making the Pandavas, your powerful
brothers, friends instead of enemies. Destruction awaits you if you insult
Dhananjaya and Krishna, who are none other than Nara and Narayana."
Duryodhana
took leave and went to his tent, but he could not sleep that night.
The
battle was resumed the next morning. Bhishma arrayed the Kaurava forces in a
strong formation. So did Dhrishtadyumna for the Pandava army.
Bhima
stood at the head of the advance lines as usual. And Sikhandin, Dhrishtadyumna
and Satyaki stood behind, securely guarding the main body, aided by other
generals.
Dharmaputra
and the twin brothers held the rear. Bhishma bent his bow and discharged his
shafts. The Pandava army suffered greatly under the grandsire's attack.
Dhananjaya
saw this and retaliated by fierce shafts aimed at Bhishma. Duryodhana went to
Drona and complained bitterly according to his custom.
Drona
upbraided him severely: "Obstinate prince, you talk without understanding.
You are ignorant of the Pandavas' strength. We are doing our best."
Drona's
powerful attack on the Pandava army was too much for Satyaki who was meeting it
and Bhima therefore turned his attentions to Drona. The battle grew fiercer
still. Drona, Bhishma and Salya made a combined attack on Bhima.
Sikhandin
supported Bhima by pouring a shower of arrows on Bhishma. As soon as Sikhandin
stepped in, Bhishma turned away. For Sikhandin was born a girl, and Bhishma's
principles did not permit him to attack a woman.
In
the end, this same objection proved to be the cause of Bhishma's death. When
Drona saw Bhishma turn away, he attacked Sikhandin fiercely and compelled him
to withdraw.
There
was a promiscuous battle the whole of the morning of the fifth day, and the
slaughter was terrific. In the after noon, Duryodhana sent a large force to
oppose Satyaki.
But
Satyaki destroyed it completely and advanced to attack Bhurisravas.
Bhurisravas, who was a powerful opponent, put Satyaki's men to fight, and
pressed Satyaki himself so fiercely that he was in distress.
Satyaki's
ten sons saw their father's plight and sought to relieve him by launching an
offensive against Bhurisravas, but Bhurisravas undaunted by numbers, opposed
the combined attack and was not to be shaken. His well-aimed darts broke their
weapons and they were all slain, strewn on the field like so many tall trees
struck down by lightning. Satyaki, wild with rage and grief, drove forward at a
furious pace to slay Bhurisravas.
The
chariots of the two warriors dashed against each other and crumbled to pieces.
And the warriors stood face to face with sword and shield in desperate single
combat.
Then,
Bhima came and took away Satyaki by force into his chariot and drove away. For
Bhima knew that Bhurisravas was an unrivalled swordsman and he did not want Satyaki
to be slain.
Arjuna
killed thousands of warriors that evening. The soldiers, dispatched against him
by Duryodhana, perished like moths in the fire. As the sun went down and
Bhishma gave orders to cease fighting, the princes on the Pandava army surrounded
Arjuna and greeted him with loud cries of admiration and victory.
The
armies on both sides retired to camp, along with the tired horses and
elephants.
ACCORDING
to Yudhishthira's order Dhrishtadyumna arrayed the Pandava army in makara
(fish) formation for the sixth day's battle. The Kaurava army was arrayed in
krauncha (heron) formation.
We
know, how, similarly, names were given to physical exercise, asanas, or
postures. Vyuha was the general name for battle array. Which Vyuha was best for
any particular occasion, depended on the requirements of the offensive and
defensive plans of the day.
What
the strength and composition of the forces arrayed should be and what positions
they should take up were decided upon, according to the situation as it
developed from time to time.
The
sixth day was marked by a prodigious slaughter, even in the first part of the
morning. Drona's charioteer was killed and Drona took the reins of the horses
himself and used his bow as well.
Great
was the destruction he effected. He went about like fire among cotton heaps.
The formations of both armies were soon broken and indiscriminate and fierce
fighting went on. Blood flowed in torrents and the field was covered by dead
bodies of soldiers, elephants and horses and the debris of chariots.
Bhimasena
pierced the enemy's lines to seek out Duryodhana's brothers and finish them.
They, for their part, did not wait to be sought, but rushed on him, in a
combined attack from all sides. He was attacked by Duhsasana, Durvishaha,
Durmata, Jaya, Jayatsena, Vikarna, Chitrasena, Sudarsana, Charuchitra, Suvarma,
Dushkarna and others, all together.
Bhimasena,
who did not know what fear was, stood up and fought them all. They desired to
take him prisoner and he to kill them all on the spot.
The
battle raged fiercely, even like the ancient battle between the gods and the
asuras. Suddenly, the son of Pandu lost his patience and jumped down from his
chariot, mace in band, and made straight on foot for the sons of Dhritarashtra,
in hot haste to slay them.
When
Dhrishtadyumna saw Bhima's chariot disappear in the enemy lines, he was alarmed
and rushed to prevent disaster. He reached Bhima's car, but found it was
occupied only by the charioteer and Bhima was not in it. With tears in his
eyes, he asked the charioteer: "Visoka, where is Bhima dearer to me than
life?" Dhrishtadyumna naturally thought Bhima had fallen.
Visoka
bowed and said to the son of Drupada: "The son of Pandu asked me to stay
here and, without waiting for my reply rushed forward on foot, mace in hand,
into the enemy ranks."
Fearing
that Bhima would be overpowered and killed Dhrishtadyumna drove his chariot
into the enemy lines in search of Bhimasena, whose path was marked by the
bodies of slain elephants.
When
Dhrishtadyumna found Bhima, he saw him surrounded on all sides by enemies
fighting from their chariots. Bhima stood against them all, mace in hand,
wounded all over and breathing fire.
Dhrishtadyumna
embraced him and took him into his chariot and proceeded to pick out the shafts
that had stuck in his body. Duryodhana now ordered his warriors to attack
Bhimasena and Dhrishtadyumna and not to wait for them to attack or challenge.
Accordingly,
they made a combined attack even though they were not inclined to engage
themselves in further fighting. Dhrishtadyumna had a secret weapon, which he
had obtained from Dronacharya and, discharging it, threw the enemy forces into
a stupor.
But
Duryodhana then joined the fray and discharged weapons to counter the stupor
weapons of Dhrishtadyumna. Just then, reinforcements sent by Yudhishthira
arrived.
A
force of twelve chariots with their retinue led by Abhimanyu came upon the
scene to support Bhima.
Dhrishtadyumna
was greatly relieved when he saw this. Bhimasena had also by now refreshed
himself and was ready to renew the fight. He got into Kekaya's chariot and took
up his position along with the rest.
Drona,
however, was terrible that day. He killed Dhrishtadyumna's charioteer and
horses and smashed his chariot and Drupada's son had to seek a place in
Abhimanyu's car. The Pandava forces began to waver and Drona was cheered by the
Kaurava army.
Indiscriminate
mass fighting and slaughter went on that day. At one time, Bhima and Duryodhana
met face to face. The usual exchange of hot words took place and was followed
by a great battle of archery.
Duryodhana
was hit and fell unconscious. Kripa extricated him with great skill and took
him away in his own chariot. Bhishma personally arrived at the spot now and led
the attack and scattered the Pandava forces.
The
sun was sinking, but the battle was continued for an hour yet and the fighting
was fierce and many thousands perished. Then the day's battle ceased.
Yudhishthira was glad that Dhrishtadyumna and Bhima returned to camp alive.
DURYODHANA,
wounded all over and suffering greatly, went to Bhishma and said:
"The
battle had been going against us every day. Our formations are broken and our
warriors are being slain in large numbers. You are looking on doing
nothing."
The
grandsire soothed Duryodhana with comforting words:
"Why
do you let yourself be disheartened? Here are all of us, Drona, Salya,
Kritavarma, Aswatthama, Vikarna, Bhagadatta, Sakuni, the two brothers of
Avanti, the Trigarta chief, the king of Magadha, and Kripacharya. When these
great warriors are here, ready to give up their lives for you, why should you
feel downhearted? Get rid of this mood of dejection."
Saying
this, he issued orders for the day.
"See
there," the grandsire said to Duryodhana. "These thousands of cars,
horses and horsemen, great war elephants, and those armed foot soldiers from
various kingdoms are all ready to fight for you. With this fine army, you can
vanquish even the gods. Fear not."
Thus
cheering up the dejected Duryodhana, he gave him a healing balm for his wounds.
Duryodhana rubbed it over his numerous wounds and felt relieved.
He
went to the field, heartened by the grandsire's words of confidence. The army
was that day arrayed in circular formation. With each war elephant were seven
chariots fully equipped.
Each
chariot was supported by seven horsemen. To each horseman were attached ten
shield bearers. Everyone wore armor.
Duryodhana
stood resplendent like Indra at the center of this great and well-equipped
army. Yudhishthira arrayed the Pandava army in vajravyuha. This day's battle
was fiercely fought simultaneously at many sectors.
Bhishma
personally opposed Arjuna's attacks. Drona and Virata were engaged with each
other at another point. Sikhandin and Aswatthama fought a big battle at another
sector.
Duryodhana
and Dhrishtadyumna fought with each other at yet another point. Nakula and
Sahadeva attacked their uncle Salya. The Avanti kings opposed Yudhamanyu, while
Bhimasena opposed Kritavarma, Chitrasena, Vikarna and Durmarsha.
There
were great battles between Ghatotkacha and Bhagadatta, between Alambasa and
Satyaki, between Bhurisravas and Dhrishtaketu, between Yudhishthira and Srutayu
and between Chekitana and Kripa.
In
the battle between Drona and Virata, the latter was worsted and he had to climb
into the chariot of his son Sanga, having lost his own chariot, horses and
charioteer.
Virata's
sons Uttara and Sveta had fallen in the first day's battle. On this seventh
day, Sanga also was slain just as his father came up to his side. Sikhandin,
Drupada's son, was defeated by Aswatthama.
His
chariot was smashed and he jumped down and stood sword and shield in hand.
Aswatthama aimed his shaft at his sword and broke it. Sikhandin then whirled
the broken sword and hurled it at Aswatthama with tremendous force, but it was
met by Aswatthama's arrow.
Sikhandin,
badly beaten, got into Satyaki's chariot and retired. In the fight between
Satyaki and Alambasa, the former had the worst of it at first but later
recovered ground and Alambasa had to flee.
In
the battle between Dhrishtadyumna and Duryodhana, the horses of the latter were
killed and he had to alight from his chariot. He, however, continued the fight,
sword in hand. Sakuni came then and took the prince away in his chariot.
Kritavarma
made a strong attack on Bhima but was worsted. He lost his chariot and horses
and acknowledging defeat, fled towards Sakuni's car, with Bhima's arrows
sticking all over him, making him look like a porcupine speeding away in the
forest.
Vinda
and Anuvinda of Avanti were defeated by Yudhamanyu, and their armies were
completely destroyed. Bhagadatta attacked Ghatotkacha and put to flight all his
supporters.
But,
alone, Ghatotkacha stood and fought bravely. But in the end, he too had to save
himself by flight, which gladdened the whole Kaurava army.
Salya
attacked his nephews. Nakula's horses were killed and he had to join his
brother in the latter's chariot. Both continued the fight from the same car.
Salya was hit by Sahadeva's arrow and swooned. The charioteer skilfully drove
the car away and saved Salya.
When
the Madra king (Salya) was seen retreating from the field Duryodhana's army
lost heart and the twin sons of Madri blew their conchs in triumph. Taking
advantage of the situation, they inflicted heavy damage on Salya's forces.
At
noon, Yudhishthira led an attack on Srutayu. The latter's well-aimed arrows
intercepted Dharmaputra's missiles, and his armor was pierced and he was
severely wounded.
Yudhishthira
then lost his temper and sent a powerful arrow that pierced Srutayu's
breast-plate. That day, Yudhishthira was not his normal self and burnt with
anger.
Srutayu's
charioteer and horses were killed and the chariot was smashed and he had to flee
on foot from the field. This completed the demorahsation of Duryodhana's army.
In the attack on Kripa, Chekitana, losing his
chariot and charioteer, alighted and attacked Kripa's charioteer and horses
with mace in hand and killed them.
Kripa
also alighted, and standing on the ground, discharged his arrows. Chekitana was
badly hit. He then whirled his mace and hurled it at Kripacharya, but the latter was able to intercept
it with his own arrow.
Thereupon
they closed with each other, sword in hand. Both were wounded and fell on the
ground, when Bhima came and took Chekitana away in his chariot. Sakuni
similarly took wounded Kripa away in his car.
Ninety-six
arrows of Dhrishtaketu struck Bhurisravas. And the great warrior was like a sun
radiating glory, as the arrows, all sticking in his breast-plate, shone bright
around his radiant face. Even in that condition, he compelled Dhrishtaketu to
admit defeat and retire. Three of
Duryodhana's brothers attacked Abhimanyu who inflicted a heavy defeat on them
but spared their lives, because Bhima had sworn to kill them. Thereupon,
Bhishma attacked Abhimanyu.
Arjuna
saw this and said to his illustrious charioteer: "Krishna, drive the car
towards Bhishma."
At
that moment, the other Pandavas also joined Arjuna. But the grandsire was able
to hold his own against all five until the sunset, and the battle was suspended
for the day. And the warriors of both sides, weary and wounded, retired to
their tents for rest and for having their injuries attended to.
After
this, for an hour, soft music was played, soothing the warriors to their rest.
That hour was spent, says the poet, without a word about war or hatred. It was
an hour of heavenly bliss, and it was a glad sight to see. One can see herein
what the great lesson of the Mahabharata is.
WHEN
the eighth day dawned, Bhishma arrayed his army in tortoise formation.
Yudhishthira said to Dhrishtadyumna:
"See
there, the enemy is in kurma vyuha (tortoise formation). You have to answer at
once with a formation that can break it."
Dhrishtadyumna
immediately proceeded to his task. The Pandava forces were arrayed in a
three-pronged formation.
Bhima
was at the head of one prong, Satyaki of another, and Yudhishthira at the crest
of the middle division. Our ancestors had developed the science of war very
well.
It
was not reduced to writing but was preserved by tradition in the families of
kshatriyas. Armor and tactics were employed suitably to meet the weapons of
offence and the tactics that the enemy used in those days.
The
Kurukshetra battle was fought some thousands of years ago. Reading the story of
the battle in the Mahabharata, we should not, having the practice and incidents
of modern warfare in mind, reject the Mahabharata narrative as mere myth with
no relation to fact.
Only
about a century and a half ago, the English admiral Nelson fought great sea
battles and won undying renown.
The
weapons used and the vessels that actually took part in Nelson's battles, would
seem almost weird and even ridiculous if compared with those of modern naval
warfare.
If
a hundred and fifty years can make so much difference, we must be prepared for
very strange things in the procedure and events of a period, so long back as
that of the Mahabharata war.
Another
matter to be kept in mind is that we cannot expect, in the books of poets and
literary writers, accurate or full details about weapons and tactics, although
the narrative may be of battles.
Military
affairs were in ancient times the sole concern of the military order, the
kshatriyas. Their culture and their
training were entirely their own charge.
The
principles and the secrets of warfare and the science and art of the use of
military weapons were handed down from generation to generation by tradition
and personal instruction.
There
were no military textbooks and there was not any place for them in the works of
poets and rishis. If a modern novel deals in some chapters with the treatment
and cure of a sick person, we can not expect to see such details in it as might
interest a medical man. No author would care, even if he were able, to include
scientific details in his story.
So,
we cannot hope to find in the epic of Vyasa, precise details as to what is
tortoise formation or lotus formation. We have no explanation as to how one
could, by discharging a continuous stream of arrows, build a defence around
himself or intercept and cut missiles in transit, or how one could be living
when pierced all over by arrows, or how far the armor worn by the soldiers and
officers could protect them against missiles or what were the ambulance
arrangements or how the dead were disposed of.
All
these things appertaining to ancient war, however interesting, will have to be
in the realm of the unknown in spite of the vivid narrative we have in the
Mahabharata epic.
Bhima
killed eight of Dhritarashtra's sons early in the battle that day. Duryodhana's
heart lost courage before this. It seemed to his friends as if Bhimasena would
complete his revenge this very day, even as he swore in the assembly ball,
where the great outrage was enacted.
Arjuna
had a great bereavement in this day's battle. His dear son Iravan was killed.
This son of Arjuna by his Naga wife had come and joined the Pandava forces at
Kurukshetra. Duryodhana sent his friend, the Rakshasa Alambasa, to oppose the
Naga warrior.
Iravan
was slain after a fierce fight. When Arjuna heard this, he broke down
completely. Said he turning to Vasudeva: "Vidura had indeed told us
plainly that both sides would be plunged in grief unbearable. What are we doing
all this wretched destruction up on one another for? Just for the sake of
property. After all this killing, what joy are we or they likely to find in the
end? O Madhusudana, I now see why the far seeing Yudhishthira said he would be
content if Duryodhana would give five villages to us, keeping everything else
to himself and he would not resort to fighting if that were agreed to.
Duryodhana, in his obstinate folly, refused to give even these five villages
and so, these great sins have to be committed on both sides. I continue
fighting only because men would otherwise think me a coward, who could submit
tamely to wrong. When I see the dead warriors lying on the field, my heart is
filled with unbearable anguish. Oh, how wicked we are to carry on in this
miserable, sinful way."
Seeing
Iravan killed, Ghatotkacha uttered a loud war-cry which made all the assembled
soldiers tremble. And with his division, he fell upon the Kaurava army
ferociously. So great was the destruction he wrought that at many points the
Kaurava formation was broken.
Seeing
this, Duryodhana personally led an attack on Bhima's son. The king of Vanga
joined Duryodhana with his elephants. Duryodhana fought most bravely on this
eighth day of the battle. He killed a great number of warriors on Ghatotkacha's
side.
Ghatotkacha
hurled a javelin which would have ended Duryodhana's career but for the Vanga
chief's prompt intervention with one of his elephants.
The
missile hit the beast, which fell dead, and Duryodhana was saved.
Bhishma
was anxious about Duryodhana and sent a large force under Drona to support the
Kaurava prince.
Many
were the veterans who were in this force that attacked Ghatotkacha.
So
tumultuous and fierce was the fight at this sector of the battle that
Yudhishthira feared for Ghatotkacha's safety and sent Bhimasena to his aid.
Then
the battle became even fiercer than before. Sixteen of Duryodhana's brothers
perished on this day.
ON
the morning of the ninth day, before the battle began, Duryodhana was closeted
with the grandsire. He gave vent to his bitter feelings of disappointment over
the way the battle was going. He uttered words that were like the sharp spears
and pained the grandsire greatly but the latter was patient and said sadly:
"Like
ghee on the sacrificial fire I am pouring my life out for you. Why do you seek
to mortify me, who have been doing my very utmost for you? You speak like a man
of no understanding, not knowing what is right and what is wrong. They say that,
when a man is nearing his death, the tree appears to him to be made of gold.
You see things now, not as they are. Your vision is clouded. You are now
reaping the harvest of the hatred you deliberately sowed. The best course for
you are to go on fighting, as well as you can. This is also the plain path of
duty. It is not possible for me to fight Sikhandin, for I can never raise my
hand against a woman. Nor can I with my hands kill the Pandavas, for my mind
revolts against it. I will do everything barring these two and fight all the
warriors opposed to you. Nothing is gained by losing heart. Fight as a
kshatriya should and honor will be yours whatever the events."
Saying
thus to Duryodhana and cheering him up with wise and affectionate words,
Bhishma proceeded to issue instructions for arraying the forces for the day's
battle.
Duryodhana
was heartened. He sent for Duhsasana and said to him: "Brother, put forth
all our strength in today's battle. I am convinced, the grandsire is fighting
on our side with his whole heart. It is only against Sikhandin, he says, he
cannot use his weapons. We should see that he is not exposed to Sikhandin's
attacks, for you know, even a wild dog can kill a lion if the latter scorns to
fight back."
There
was a great fight between Abhimanyu and Alambasa. Abhimanyu demonstrated that
his valor was no less than his illustrious father's. Alambasa had to flee on
foot to save himself.
There
were fierce combats between Satyaki and Aswatthama and between Drona and
Arjuna. Thereafter, all the Pandavas attacked the grandsire and Duryodhana sent
Duhsasana to support the old warrior. Bhishma fought furiously and beat the
Pandavas back.
The
Pandava forces were thoroughly demoralised and were flying hither and thither,
like cattle that had lost their way in the forest.
Krishna
halted the chariot and said to Arjuna: "Partha, you and your brothers were
looking forward to this day, after thirteen years. Do not hesitate to kill the
grandsire. Remember the duty of a soldier."
Arjuna
bent his head down and, without looking up, replied: "I would much rather
have continued to be an exile in the forest than kill the grandsire and the
teachers whom I love, but I shall obey you. Drive on."
Arjuna's
heart was not in the fight. Unwillingly and in great distress of mind, he
proceeded to the combat. Bhishma, on the
other hand, burnt fiercely like the noonday sun.
When
the army saw Arjuna's chariot proceed towards Bhishma, it regained courage and
order once again prevailed. Bhishma's arrows came thick and fast and covered
the advancing chariot so completely that neither horses nor vehicles could be
seen.
Krishna
was unperturbed and drove on with circumspection and skill. Arjuna's shafts hit
Bhishma's bow and shattered it many times. But the grandsire went on renewing
his weapon.
"You
are not fighting, Arjuna, as you should!" exclaimed Krishna, and jumped
down in a rage from the chariot and, taking up his discus, he advanced towards
the grandsire.
Bhishma
saw Vasudeva approaching.
"Hail,
O Lotus-eyed One!" he cried. "Blessed am I to be separated from the
body by you! Come, come!"
Arjuna
jumped down from the chariot and, rushing forward overtook and held Krishna,
casting both his arms around him. "Stop, Krishna," he cried. "Do
not break your pledge. You have promised not to use weapons in this battle.
This is my work. I shall not fail. I shall send my arrows and kill the beloved
grandsire myself. Pray, mount the car and take the reins."
Arjuna
took Krishna back and the battle was resumed. The Pandava forces had been
handled roughly, but now the sun was down in the west and the fighting ended
for the day.
IT
was the tenth day of the battle. Keeping Sikhandin in front of him, Arjuna
attacked Bhishma. When Sikhandin's darts pierced his breast, sparks flew from
the grandsire's eyes.
For
a moment the old warrior's anger rose like flaming fire and his eyes glared as
if to consume Sikhandin. But, at once, the grandsire restrained himself.
He
decided not to be provoked into fighting Sikhandin, who was born a woman and to
strike whom it seemed unworthy of a warrior.
He
knew, however, his end was near and calmed himself. Sikhandin went on
discharging his arrows, not minding the battle of emotions in his opponent's mind.
Arjuna
also steeled his heart, and from behind Sikhandin aimed arrows at the weak
points in Bhishma's armor, even while the grandsire stood still.
Bhishma
smiled as the arrows continued to come down thick on him, and turning to
Duhsasana, said: "Ah, these are Arjuna's arrows! These cannot be
Sikhandin's, for they burn my flesh as the crab's young ones tear their
mother's body."
Thus
did the grandsire look upon his dear pupil's arrows and, while saying this to
Duhsasana, he took up a javelin and hurled it at Arjuna. Arjuna met it with
three arrows which cut it to pieces even
as it was speeding through the air.
Bhishma
then decided to end the combat and made as if to dismount from his chariot,
sword and shield in hand. But before he could do so, his shield was cut to
pieces by Arjuna's arrows.
With
arrows sticking all over his body so thickly that there was not even an inch of
intervening space, Bhishma fell headlong to the ground from his chariot.
As
he fell, the gods, who looked on from above, folded their hands in reverent
salutation and a gentle breeze, laden with fragrance and cool raindrops, swept
over the battlefield.
Thus
fell the great and good Bhishma, the son of Ganga, who came on earth to hallow
it and all it bears.
The
blameless hero who, unasked, made the great renunciation to give joy to his
father. The undefeated bowman who had humbled the pride of Rama of the axe. The
selfless worker for righteousness' sake, thus repaid his debt to Duryodhana,
and lay wounded to death sanctifying with his life-blood the battlefield. As
the grandsire fell, the hearts of the Kauravas also fell along with him.
Bhishma's
body did not touch the ground, on account of the arrows sticking out all over
his body. His body shone more brightly than ever before, as it lay as on a bed
of honor, supported by the shafts that had pierced his flesh.
Both
armies ceased fighting and all the warriors came running and crowded round the
great hero, who lay on his bed of arrows. The kings of the earth stood with
bowed heads round him, as the gods round Brahma.
"My
head hangs down unsupported," said the grandsire. The princes who stood
near, ran and brought cushions. The old warrior rejected them with a smile and,
turning towards Arjuna said: "Dear son Partha, give me a cushion befitting
a warrior."
When
Arjuna, whose arrows were just then burning the grandsire's flesh, heard those
words addressed to him, he took three arrows from out of his quiver and so
placed them that the grandsire's head
found support on their points.
"Princes,"
said Bhishma addressing the assembled chiefs, "Arjuna's arrows were indeed
what my head required to be supported on. This pillow gives me satisfaction.
Now, I must lie thus until the sun turns north. My soul will not depart till
then. When I pass away, those of you who may be alive then may come and see
me."
Then
the grandsire turned again to Arjuna and said: "I am tormented with
thirst. Get me some drinking water." At once, Arjuna raised his bow, and
drawing, it to the ear, shot a shaft down into the earth near the grandsire on
his right side.
Upon
the opening made by the arrow, there gushed a stream of pure sweet water to the
very lips of the dying man. Ganga came up, says the poet, to quench her dear
son's burning thirst. Bhishma drank and was happy.
"Duryodhana, may you be wise!" said
Bhishma, addressing the Kaurava prince. "Did you see how Arjuna brought me
water to quench my thirst? Who else in this world can do such a deed? Make
peace with him without further delay. May the war cease with my exit. Listen to
me, son, make peace with the Pandavas."
The
grandsire's words did not please Duryodhana. Even when dying, the patient does
not like medicine. He objects to the bitter taste. All the princes retired to
their camps.
WHEN
he learnt that Bhishma lay wounded and dying, Karna hurried to the place and
fell at his feet and said:
"Eldest
of the race. Radha's son, who, through no fault of his, incurred your great
displeasure, humbly prostrates himself before you."
When
after humble salutation Karna stood up, the grandsire, greatly moved, tenderly
placed his hand on Karna's head and blessed him.
"You
are not Radha's son, young man," he said in loving tones: "You are
Kuntidevi's own first born. Narada, who knows all the secrets of the world,
himself revealed this to me. Son of Surya, truly I entertained no dislike for
you. But I was grieved to see your increasing hatred of the Pandavas although
they gave you no cause for it. I know and admire your valor and your open
handedness. And I know also that you belong to the class of Phalguna and
Krishna in prowess. It is proper that you befriend the Pandavas. Therein lies
the right path for you who are their brother. With the closing of my part in
this war, may the chapter of your enmity also close. This is my wish,
Karna."
Karna
listened respectfully and replied: "Grandsire I know I am Kunti's son, and
not charioteer born. But I have eaten Duryodhana's salt and must be true to
him, to be true to my own lineage. It is impossible for me to go over to the
Pandavas now. You must permit me to repay with my life, if it so be the debt I
owe to Duryodhana for his love and trust. I have erred greatly in word and
deed. You must forgive me for it all and give me your blessings."
The
great acharya, who knew all the laws of right conduct and what Karna said,
replied: "Do reflect for a while and then do as you wish, for that is the
right way."
Even
when Bhishma was mortally wounded and lay dying, the battle did not cease.
Discarding the grandsire's words of wisdom, the Kauravas resumed the battle.
Deprived
of Bhishma's leadership, the Kaurava forces felt like sheep without a shepherd
when Bhishma no longer led them. Indeed, even as Bhishma fell wounded, the men
shouted:
"O
Karna, you are the one left to lead and protect us."
The
Kaurava warriors felt that, if but Karna would agree to take up the command,
victory was certain. During the first ten days when Bhishma led the forces, the
son of Surya kept away from the battle.
As
already narrated, deeply hurt at the grandsire's contempt, Karna had said:
"So long as you are up fighting, I shall keep aloof. If you slay the
Pandavas and bring victory to Duryodhana, I shall be glad. And I shall then,
taking the king's leave, go to the forest. But, if you be defeated and go to
the abode of the brave, I who am not deemed by you as an adhiratha (master of
chariot warfare) will ride my chariot and oppose those whom you deem to be of
greater prowess than myself. And defeating them, bring victory to Duryodhana."
Thus
had Karna sworn and, with Duryodhana's consent, kept aloof from the battle
during the first ten days. Now he went on foot to Bhishma who lay on his bed of
arrows waiting for his end and, saluting him, addressed him thus:
"Veteran
grandsire, vanquisher of Parasurama, you lie on the field of battle, struck
down by Sikhandin. If you, who had reached the summit of right living and were
an embodiment of purity itself, must lie wounded in this manner, it is clear
that no one can attain in this world what he deserves by his merit. You were
the one boat on which the Kaurava princes depended for crossing the flood of
their troubles. Heavy indeed will be the blows that the Pandavas will now deal
at the Kauravas and great will be their consequent distress. Like fire and wind
burning down the forest, Arjuna and Krishna will destroy the army of Kauravas.
This is certain. Turn your gracious eyes on me and bless me, who have accepted
the command of the forces."
Bhishma
gave his blessings to Karna."You are like the good earth to the seeds,
like rain clouds to living beings, ever dependable, firm in your loyalty. Serve
Duryodhana and save him. You vanquished the Kambojas for him. You put down the
Kiratas of the Himalayan fastnesses for him. You fought the Girivrajas on his behalf
and defeated them. Many more things you have accomplished for him. Take charge
of the Kaurava army now as your own rich possession and guard it well. May you
lead Duryodhana's forces to success! May you have every good fortune! Fight
your enemies, go."
Karna,
having received the benediction of the grandsire, mounted his chariot and rode
to the battlefield. When the valorous Karna entered the field on his war
chariot, Duryodhana's joys knew no bounds. His sorrow, at having lost Bhishma,
was in some degree alleviated.
DURYODHANA
and Karna held counsel as to who should be put in supreme command of the
forces.
"Well,
everyone of these princely warriors fighting on your side is great enough to be
put in charge of our forces as supreme commander," said Karna.
"All
these kings are of equal prowess, strength, energy, skill, courage, valor,
ancestry and wisdom. They cannot all be put in joint command and, if any of
them be chosen, each of the others would feel hurt and may not put forth his
whole strength in the cause. Thereby we stand to suffer. So, my advice is that
we install Dronacharya, the teacher of all these princes and warriors, as
supreme commander. He indeed is the greatest of all those that carry arms
today. No kshatriya equals him in the qualities required for leading our army.
Let us therefore install him."
Duryodhana
agreed that this was the right thing to do, and so it was decided.
Duryodhana went to Dronacharya and, in
the presence of the assembled warriors and princes, bowed and addressed him:
"Revered
Master, you are unrivalled among all those assembled here in caste, ancestry,
knowledge of sciences, age, wisdom, valor and skill. I beg of you to accept the
supreme command. Under your command, this army will be victorious." The
assembled kings received this proposal with loud cheers and war cries that
gladdened Duryodhana's heart.
Drona
was installed in due form amidst thunderous acclamation. The praise of
courtiers and the sound of trumpets that accompanied the ceremony, made the
Kauravas feel as though they had already vanquished the enemy. So great was
their enthusiasm and confidence in Drona's leadership.
Drona arrayed the army in circular formation.
Karna, who had till then stood aside was now seen moving about in his great
chariot on the battlefield and this put new courage and joy into the hearts of
the Kaurava soldiers.
The
talk went round in the army that the great Bhishma did not wish to slay the
sons of Pandu and therefore had not put his whole heart in the fight. But now
that Karna was in the field, it was certain that the Pandavas would be
destroyed.
Dronacharya
was in command for five days of the battle. Though of advanced years, he was
everywhere in the field and displayed the fierce energy of a young warrior.
Whenever he led an attack, the Pandava forces were scattered like clouds before
a storm.
He
personally engaged the greatest warriors on the Pandava side in battle. He
fought Satyaki, Bhima, Arjuna, Dhrishtadyumna, Abhimanyu, Drupada and Kasiraja
and defeated them on many occasions.
He
harassed and inflicted severe punishment on the Pandava army during the five
days he was in command.
76. To Seize Yudhishthira Alive
AS
SOON AS Drona assumed command of the Kaurava forces Duryodhana, Karna and
Duhsasana sat in council and decided on a plan. And Duryodhana went to
Dronacharya to put it in operation.
"Acharya,
we desire that you should capture Yudhishthira alive and give him over to us.
We desire nothing more, not even a total victory. If you achieve this for us,
we shall all be exceedingly satisfied with your conduct of the war."
When
Drona heard Duryodhana address him thus, great was his joy, for he hated the
very idea of slaying the Pandava brothers. Even though, to fulfil his
obligation, the acharya loyally joined the Kaurava side against the Pandavas,
he loved the sons of Kunti and especially the pure-minded Yudhishthira.
So, when he heard Duryodhana request
that Yudhishthira should be captured alive, he felt greatly relieved.
"Duryodhana,
may you be blessed!" the acharya said. "Do you too wish to abstain
from killing Yudhishthira? How it gladdens my heart! Truly, Yudhishthira is one
without an enemy and the name Ajatasatru, which the people have given to
Kunti's eldest son, has been justified by your great decision. When even you
have made up your mind that he should not be killed but should be captured
alive, his unrivalled glory has become ten times enhanced."
"I
see, dear Duryodhana, what you intend," Drona continued. "You wish to
defeat the Pandavas in battle and then give them their share in the kingdom and
live in peace and amity with them. I see this clearly from your desire to
capture Yudhishthira alive."
Drona
was exceedingly glad and he said again: "Indeed Yudhishthira is the most
fortunate man on earth. The gods are showering their favors on Kunti's good
son. So has he won the hearts of even enemies."
But
Duryodhana's motives in wishing to take Yudhishthira alive were far different.
And as soon as Drona acceded to his proposal and gave his pledge that he would
do his best to capture Yudhishthira, he began to reveal his real intentions.
If
Yudhishthira were slain, nothing would be gained by it, and the anger of the
Pandavas would be all the greater. The battle would rage more fiercely than
before. And Duryodhana knew that it would only mean the utter defeat of his
army.
Even
if the fight were to be continued relentlessly until both armies were
destroyed, Krishna would still remain alive and he would put either Draupadi or
Kunti in sovereign possession of the kingdom.
What
then was the point in killing Yudhishthira? On the other hand, if Yudhishthira
was captured alive, Duryodhana thought, the war would end more speedily and
victoriously for the Kauravas.
Thereafter,
he could surely play on Yudhishthira's goodness and his loyalty to the
traditional code of kshatriya conduct. It was pretty certain he could be drawn
into the battle of dice again and sent to the forests once more.
Ten
days of fighting had demonstrated to Duryodhana that further fighting would
only result in the destruction of the race, not the fulfilment of the desires.
When
Duryodhana made his motives clear to Drona, the acharya was greatly
disappointed and he cursed Duryodhana in his heart. But whatever the reason for
it, he was glad that Yudhishthira was not to be killed.
The
news that Drona had given a solemn assurance to Duryodhana that he would take
Yudhishthir a prisoner, was carried by their spies to the Pandava army.
The
Pandavas knew that, when the acharya was determined on something and gave his
pledged word for executing it, his unrivalled eminence in the art of war and
his valor made it a most serious affair.
So,
they soon got busy and so arrayed the forces that Yudhishthira was never left
unsupported. Whatever movements might take place, they always took care to
leave sufficient protection against any surprise attack on Yudhishthira.
In
the first day's battle under the leadership of Drona, the acharya amply
demonstrated his great skill and energy. He moved about destroying the Pandava
forces like a fire burning up dry logs. His rapid movements made the Pandava
army feel as if Drona was everywhere at the same time showering arrows like
rain and converting the battlefield into a stage for the dance of the God of
Death. He cut the Pandava army in twain where Dhrishtadyumna stood.
Many
were the single combats among renowned warriors. There was a fierce battle
between Sahadeva and Sakuni skilled in illusion warfare. When their chariots
broke, they alighted on the ground. And, like two hills sprung to life and
motion, they struck each other with maces and closed with one another in single
combat. Between Bhima and Vivimsati there was a great battle in which chariots
were broken on both sides. Salya fought his nephew Nakula and harassed him
exceedingly, smiling most provokingly all the time. But, in the end, Salya had
his car smashed and his flag brought down, and he withdrew admitting defeat.
Between Kripacharya and Dhrishtaketu there was a battle in which the latter was
worsted.
So
also was there fierce fighting between Satyaki and Kritavarma and between
Virata and Karna. Abhimanyu's valor was also demonstrated as he fought Paurava,
Kritavarma, Jayadratha and Salya single-handed and made them withdraw.
Then
there was a great combat between Salya and Bhimasena in which Salya was
defeated and made to retire. The Kaurava forces began to lose courage and the
Pandava army, who saw this, attacked the Kaurava army with renewed energy and
broke its ranks.
When Drona saw this, he decided to restore
lost morale by leading a straight attack on Yudhishthira. His golden chariot
went forward, drawn by four noble Sindhu horses, in the direction of
Yudhishthira. Yudhishthira answered with barbed arrows, feathered with
eagle-feathers. But Drona did not mind, and advanced at great speed.
Yudhishthira's bow was cut down and Drona was coming very near.
Dhrishtadyumna
tried to intercept Drona but in vain. The whole army shouted:
"Yudhishthira has been taken!" So near came Drona.
Suddenly,
then, Arjuna appeared on the battlefield, the earth rumbling under the wheels
of his chariot, as it coursed swiftly over the bloody field, over bones and
bodies lying in heaps. Drona held back, for Arjuna had come on the scene. From
his Gandiva bow issued a continuous stream of arrows. No one could see the
shafts taken out of the quiver or placed in position. It seemed as if, from out
of the great bow, an unending flood of arrows issued without intermission. The
battlefield was darkened by flying missiles.
Drona
retreated. Yudhishthira was not taken. The battle was stopped for the day and
the Kaurava forces went to their camp in chastened mood.
The
Pandava army marched proudly to camp and behind them walked Kesava (Krishna)
and Arjuna conversing. Thus closed the eleventh day of the battle.
THE
attempt to capture Yudhishthira alive failed. Drona was speaking to Duryodhana
about this. "It is clear we cannot succeed in our efforts to seize
Yudhishthira so long as Dhananjaya is nearby. It is no want of interest on my
part. If by some stratagem we could draw Arjuna away to some other part of the
field, I could pierce the Pandava formations and capture Yudhishthira. I
promise to seize him and deliver him to you provided he does not flee from the
battle, renouncing honor. If he does that, then also we win indeed, do we
not?"
The
chief of the Trigartadesa who heard Drona say this talked it over with his
brothers, and they made a plan. They resolved to take the samsaptaka oath and
challenge Arjuna to battle and draw him away from Yudhishthira's side.
Accordingly,
together with a large force, they gathered, and sat before the fire, dressed in
matted grass, and went through funeral gifts and ceremonies for themselves as
if already dead, and took their oath: "Not till we have killed Dhananjaya
will we turn back. If we flee in fear from battle, may we be punished as for
deadly sin!"
Having
adjured themselves thus before the sacred fire, they marched south for that was
the direction of Death, and shouted "O Arjuna!" challenging him to
battle.
It
was a great suicide squad organized to achieve what Drona had pointed out to be
essential. Arjuna turned to Yudhishthira and addressed him thus: "King,
the samsaptakas are calling me to battle. I am pledged to accept a challenge
thus thrown out. Susarma and his men are calling me to battle. I shall destroy
them all and return. Permit me to go."
"Brother
beloved," said Yudhishthira, "you know Drona's intentions. Keep that
in mind and do whatever you think fit. He has promised Duryodhana to take me
alive. He is a matchless warrior, brave, strong and skilled in, every branch of
archery. He knows no fatigue and nothing escapes his watchful eyes."
"King,
here is Satyajit, standing in support of you," replied Arjuna. "As
long as he is alive and by you, nothing can happen to you." So saying
Arjuna asked the Panchala prince Satyajit to stand guard by Yudhishthira's side
and marched off like a hungry lion to meet the samsaptakas.
"There,
Krishna, see the Trigartas standing, cheerful under the intoxication of their
oath, though they know they go to certain death. Indeed they are full of the
exultation of approaching swarga." So speaking to his great charioteer,
Arjuna approached the large samsaptaka force.
This
was the Twelfth Day of the great battle. It was a fierce fight. After a time,
Arjuna's attack began to tell and the Trigartas fell in swathes before him but
Susarma reminded them of their oath. "Heroes, we have taken our oaths
before the fire and in the presence of the whole army of warriors. Having sworn
terrible resolves, it is unworthy to flinch. Let us not fall into public
ridicule." The samsaptakas cheered their leader, and faced Arjuna with the
sublime courage of accepted deaths.
"Hrishikesa, they are resolved on
fighting to the last. Drive on," said Arjuna.
Driven
by Madhusudana (Krishna) Arjuna's chariot moved like Indra's car in the great
war of the gods against the asuras. It went here and it went there and wherever
it went, Arjuna's great bow, the Gandiva, scattered death among the doomed
Trigartas.
The
burst of blood in their compct ranks was like the burst of Palasa blossoms in a
springtime forest. The fighting was severe. At one time Arjuna's car and
flagpole were immersed in darkness under the downpour of arrows.
"Are
you alive, Dhananjaya?" shouted Krishna.
"Yes,"
replied Arjuna, and pulling the string of his Gandiva, discharged shafts that
dispelled the arrow-shower. It was like the Rudra dance of dissolution. The
field was full of severed limbs and headless bodies and presented a terrible
spectacle.
As
Arjuna proceeded to oppose the samsaptakas, Drona gave orders for a violent
assault on the Pandava forces at the point where Yudhishthira stood.
Yudhishthira
saw this movement and spoke to the Panchala prince Dhrishtadyumna:
"The
brahmana is coming to seize me. Look after the forces with vigilance."
The
son of Drupada did not wait for Drona to advance but marched forward in his car
himself to meet Drona. Dronacharya avoided Dhrishtadyumna, for well he knew
that his death was destined to be at
his hands and that death was not yet due. And he wheeled his chariot in another
direction where Drupada was leading his forces.
Drupada's
forces suffered heavy punishment at Drona's hands and blood flowed in streams
on the battlefield. Drona, then, again turned his attention to Yudhishthira.
The Pandavas stood firm and answered Drona's attacks with showers of arrows.
Satyajit
made a charge on Drona's car and there was a fierce combat in which Drona's
figure assumed the grimness of the Destroyer. Many a warrior was slain by him
in succession. Vrika, a prince of Panchala, as well as Satyajit, fell dead.
Seeing
this, Satanika, son of Virata, marched against Drona. In a moment, Satanika's
severed head rolled on the ground with the golden kundalas shining in the
earlobes.
Ketama,
another chief, followed the attack but he too perished. Then, Vasudhana rushed
forward to stop the advance of Drona, but he too fell dead. Yudhamanyu,
Satyaki, Sikhandin and Uttamaujas who came to push Drona back, were repulsed
and all these great warriors had to retreat. Drona was now almost within reach
of Yudhishthira.
At
that moment, Panchalya, another son of Drupada, rushed madly up to stop the
acharya and fought most desperately. But, he too was mortally wounded and fell
from his chariot like a failing star.
Then,
Duryodhana was delighted and said exultingly to Karna:
"Radheya,
do you see the valor of our mighty leader? No more will the Pandavas be
inclined towards battle. See how their army reels under Drona's blows."
Karna
shook his head. "Do not be so confident," he said. "The Pandavas
are not to be so easily vanquished. They will never surrender. The wrongs they
have undergone are too great to be forgotten. You tried to poison and kill
them. You tried to burn them alive. You have grieved and humiliated them at the
game of dice and you have forced them out to live in the forest for long years.
They will not surrender. See there, their army has rallied and all their forces
are leading a combined attack on Drona. There, see Bhima, Satyaki, Yudhamanyu,
Kshatradharma, Nakula, Uttamaujas, Drupada, Virata, Sikhandin. Dhrishtaketu and
other warriors have all come to protect Yudhishthira and are pressing Drona
hard. We should not stand idly watching, when we have put such a heavy burden
on the acharya. Great as he is, there is a limit to the load even he can carry.
Even wolves combined in large numbers can harass and kill a mighty elephant,
Let us proceed. It will not do any longer to leave Drona unsupported."
DRONA
made many attempts to take Yudhishthira prisoner, but failed. Duryodhana led a
large elephant division against Bhima. Bhima defended himself from his chariot
with well-aimed arrows.
He
sent crescent-headed shafts and tore down Duryodhana's flag and cut down his
bow even as he held it in his hand. Seeing the king harassed in this manner,
the Mlechchha king Anga marched against Bhimasena seated on a huge elephant.
But
Bhima sent shafts that laid the elephant low and killed the Mlechchha king,
which resulted in scattering that section of the Kaurava forces in fear and
confusion. When the elephants stampeded, the horses also took fright and
thousands of footmen were trampled under the feet of the elephants and the
horses, flying in wild panic.
Seeing
this great confusion and the scattering of the Kaurava forces in all
directions, the king of Pragjyotisha, the brave Bhagadatta grew indignant.
He
got up on his renowned elephant Supratika and charged against Bhimasena. The
gigantic beast rushed forward with widespread ears and twirling trunk, crashed
into Bhimasena's chariot. And in an instant, horses and vehicle were an
unrecognizable mass. But Bhima escaped by jumping off the car in the nick of
time.
He
knew all about elephants. He got below the great and fierce elephant and
showered blows on its vital points. The great beast got mad and whirled round
like a potter's wheel, trying to throw off Bhimasena, who was sticking to its
legs and attcking it from below.
It
bent down and caught Bhima by its trunk and was about to crush him under its
knees, when Vrikodara somehow released himself from its hold and again got
below, in between its limbs and sticking to the elephant's under-regions, caused
exceeding pain to the beast.
Bhima
was thus gaining time in the hope that some elephant on the Pandava side would
be led to attack Bhagadatta's elephant and enable him to get away.
But,
when Bhima disappeared from view, being hidden in between the beast's legs, the
soldiers thought Bhima was slain. They exclaimed: "Bhima is dead!
Bhagadatta's elephant has crushed Bhimasena!" and the cry was repeated all
over Kurukshetra.
Yudhishthira
heard the cry and, thinking Bhima was slain, urged the forces to destroy
Bhagadatta. The king of Dasarna charged against Bhagadatta. Dasarna's elephant
was also a fierce beast and there was great battle between Supratika and
Dasarna's elephant.
But
Supratika's tusk pierced Dasarna's beast in the side and it crashed down dead.
At that moment, Bhima emerged from below Supratika and ran out safe. And the
Pandava army cheered when they saw Bhima alive.
Bhagadatta
was now attacked on all sides, but he did not lose heart. Resplendent on his
elephant, he shone like a forest fire on a hill. Ignoring the enemies around
him, he drove his beast on Satyaki's chariot.
The
elephant seized the chariot with its great trunk and lifting it high dashed it
upside down. Satyaki jumped out of the chariot in time to save himself.
His
charioteer displayed great agility and skill and saved the vehicle as well as
the horses, and righting the chariot, drove it to where Satyaki stood.
Bhagadatta's
elephant wrought great havoc in the Pandava army, hurling warriors about and
killing them in great number, striking terror wherever it went. Bhagadatta
stood on its back, like Indra on Airavata when he fought the asuras.
With
ears spread out rigid in anger and trunk extended in front, the great beast
trampled upon numerous horses, chariots and soldiers and wrought destruction
all over the Pandava army. The shafts hurled at it seemed only to incense it
more.
Like
a herdsman in the forest driving the cattle where he would, Bhagadatta drove
the soldiers of the Pandava army before him. Bhimasena, equipping himself once
again with a chariot, renewed his attack on Bhagadatta.
The
elephant stretched out its trunk and blew out a violent spray of mucus that
scared the horses of Bhima's chariot and they bolted in wild flight and the
charioteer could not check them.
A
great cloud of dust rose from the field where this great elephant battle raged.
Arjuna saw this from where he was
fighting the samsaptakas and he also heard the tumult created by Bhagadatta's
elephant.
He
feared things had gone wrong and said to Krishna: "Madhusudana, this is
the cry of Supratika, Bhagadatta's elephant. This king of Pragjyotisha is
terrible with his elephant, and has no equal in that kind of warfare. He is
sure to defeat and confound our men. We must proceed at once and save the
situation. We have punished these samsaptakas enough. Drive to where Drona is
engaging Yudhishthira." Krishna drove the chariot accordingly towards the
main battlefront.
Susarma
and his brothers came up behind the chariot and shouted "Stop, stop."
At the same time, they discharged shafts at Arjuna's chariot.
Arjuna
was of two minds.
"Here
is Susarma challenging me to battle and I hated declining this kind of
invitation, but there, to the north of us, our formation seems broken and our
men are in need of immediate relief."
While
Arjuna was pondering thus, a javelin came hurtling at Arjuna and another
towards Janardana. Wild with anger, Arjuna sent three well-aimed shafts, which
compelled Susarma to turn back.
They
lost no more time but drove quickly to where Bhagadatta was doing havoc. As
soon as Arjuna's car was seen, the Pandava forces rallied and soon Arjuna
reached the lines where Bhagadatta was.
Bhagadatta attacked Arjuna on Supratika
like the Destroyer incarnate. But Vasudeva's skill avoided the shock, each time
the beast charged.
Bhagadatta
showered arrows on Arjuna and Krishna. But Arjuna's arrows broke the elephant's
armor and began to hurt the beast. Bhagadatta saw that his elephant could no
longer stand the attack and he hurled a javelin at Krishna.
Arjuna
met it with a shaft from his bow and broke it into two. Bhagadatta then
discharged another javelin that struck Dhananjaya's helmet.
Readjusting
his helmet, Arjuna bent his bow exclaiming: "Bhagadatta, take your last
look at the world and prepare for death!"
Bhagadatta
was a veteran of very advanced age. His grey hair and the wrinkles on his noble
old face gave him the intrepid appearance of a lion. Indeed, so old was he that
the skin hung loose down over his eyes and he had tied its folds over his
forehead with a silk kerchief so that they might not interfere with his sight.
Bhagadatta
was not more renowned for valor than for purity of character and conduct and
was one of the most illustrious among the brave men of his time. Men gave him
the title 'Friend of Indra' in recognition of his greatness.
"Look
around for the last time," said Arjuna to this great man and hurled at him
shafts that broke his bow, shattered his quiver and pierced the joints of his
armor.
In
those days, all warriors wore heavy armor and the secret of hitting weak points
such as joints and moving parts was specially studied by kshatriyas and was an
important part of military training.
When
deprived of all his weapons, Bhagadatta hurled his elephant goad at Arjuna. It
was sent with deadly aim and charged with the Vaishnava mantra.
It
would have killed Arjuna, but Krishna came in between and presented himself as
a target for the missile. It settled on his chest as a shining necklace.
Charged
with the mantra of Vishnu, it could not hurt Vishnu but just became the Lord's
jewelled garland round his neck.
"Janardana,
how is it you have offered yourself as a target for the enemy's missile? You
said you would be charioteer and leave all the fighting to me. How could you do
this?" protested Arjuna.
"Beloved
Arjuna, you do not understand. This shaft would have killed you if it had hit
you. But it is really my own thing and came back to its lawful owner,"
Krishna said and laughed. Then, Partha sent an arrow that entered the head of
Bhagadatta's elephant as a serpent enters into the anthill.
Bhagadatta
tried to urge his great beast forward, but it stood stark rigid. And his loud command
went in vain even as the words of man, who has lost his wealth, are disregarded
by his wife.
Like
a great hill the elephant stood rigid for a moment and then it suddenly sank
down driving its tusks into the earth and yielded up the ghost with an agonised
squeal.
Arjuna
was somewhat grieved at the death of the noble animal and for his not having
been able to slay Bhagadatta, without killing the beast.
Arjuna's
shafts tore the silken napkin that bound up the folds of the aged king's
forehead and he was blinded at once by his own hanging wrinkles.
Soon,
a sharp crescent-headed shaft came and pierced his chest. And Bhagadatta fell
like a great tree in a storm, his golden necklace shining like flowers on the
uprooted tree. The Kaurava forces fell into utter confusion.
Sakuni's
brothers Vrisha and Achala tried their best to oppose Arjuna and attacked him
in front and rear. But their chariots were soon dashed to pieces and they were
themselves stricken dead on the field like two lion cubs. They both looked much
alike and equally noble in appearance. The poet says that the bodies of these
two valiant heroes who did not flee when the rest fled, shed a strange lustre
all around. Sakuni was full of anger when he saw his brave and incomparable
brothers lying dead on the field.
He
attacked Arjuna fiercely and used all the weapons of illusion, in which he was
skilled. But Arjuna's strokes broke all the charms and rendered them useless.
And Sakuni had to leave the field, as fast as his horses could bear him.
The
Pandava forces then attacked Drona's army and wrought great havoc till the
sunset, and the twelfth day's fight ended. Drona gave orders to cease fighting
and the Kaurava forces, which had lost heavily, retired in sullen dejection to
their camp.
The
Pandava army, on the other band, was in high spirits and its warriors gathered
round campfires in cheerful talk and praise of Arjuna and the other heroes, who
had led them to victory.
EARLY
next morning, Duryodhana went to Dronacharya in a state of bitterness and
anger. After the customary salutation, he addressed him thus in the presence of
a large number of generals:
"Esteemed
brahmana, Yudhishthira was quite within your reach yesterday and, if you had
really wished to take him no one could have prevented you. Yet, you did not
take him, and to me the events of yesterday are inexplicable. I cannot
understand what makes it hard for you to carry out your promise to me. Verily
great men are not understandable."
Dronacharya
was exceedingly hurt by this insulting insinuation.
"Duryodhana,"
he said, "I am putting forth on your be half all the strength and skill I possess. You entertain
thoughts unworthy of a king. As long as Arjuna is present, supporting
Yudhishthira, it is not possible for us to seize him. I have told you that
already. It is only if we manage some how to get Arjuna out of the battlefield
that we can hope to carry out this plan as you desire. And I am devising ways
to attain this objective."
Thus
did Drona nobly conquer his just anger and seek to comfort Duryodhana in his
distress.
On
the thirteenth day, the samsaptakas again challenged Arjuna to battle and he
accordingly went to attack them, where they were arrayed to the south of the
main battlefront. The battle that was fought between the samsaptakas and Arjuna
was the fiercest that ever had been seen or heard of till that day.
When Dhananjaya left the main front for
meeting the samsaptakas, Drona rearranged his army in lotus formation and
attacked Yudhishthira fiercely.
Bhima,
Satyaki, Chekitana, Dhrishtadyumna, Kuntibhoja, Drupada, Ghatotkacha,
Yudhamanyu, Sikhandin, Uttamaujas, Virata, the Kekayas, Srinjayas and many
others opposed him. But their resistance seemed paralysed by the violence of
Drona's offensive.
Abhimanyu,
son of Arjuna and Subhadra, was still adolescent, but had already won
recognition as a mighty man-at arms even as the equal of his father and uncle
in battle. Yudhishthira called Abhimanyu and said to him:
"Dear son, Dronacharya is attacking
our army greatly. Arjuna is absent and, if we should be defeated in his
absence, he will be grieved beyond measure. No one among us has been able to
break Drona's array. You know you can do it and no one else. I ask you to take
up this task."
"I
can do it," replied Abhimanyu. "I have been instructed by my father
how to penetrate this formation and can certainly do so. But if after forcing
my way, it should unfortunately become necessary for me to come out, I shall be
at a loss what to do, being as yet uninstructed in the art of
extrication."
"Valiant
boy, break this impregnable formation and open a passage for us. We shall all
break in your wake. We shall be with you to face any danger and no question can
arise of your having to come out."
Bhimasena
supported Yudhishthira's proposal: "I shall be immediately behind you and
enter when you succeed in breaking the enemy's formation. So also will
Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki, the Panchalas, the Kekayas and the forces of
Matsyadesa. Only break the formation as you alone can do. We shall do the rest
and smash the Kaurava army."
Abhimanyu
thought of his father and Krishna. Feeling encouraged by what had been said by
Bhimasena and Yudhishthira, and impelled by his own gallant nature, undertook
the adventure.
"I
shall please my great father and uncle," he said with enthusiasm.
"Let my valor be staked on this."
"May
your prowess grow," said Yudhishthira and blessed the youth.
"Sumitra,
see Drona's flag flying there! Drive straight and fast to that point,"
said Abhimanyu to his charioteer.
"Faster,
faster!" urged Abhimanyu as they sped along.
"May
the gods protect you!" said the charioteer. "Yudhishthira has placed
a very great burden on your young shoulders. Think well before you pierce
Drona's array and enter. The acharya is unrivalled in skill and experience,
while you, though his equal in valor, have not his long years to back it."
Abhimanyu
smiled and replied: "Friend, I am Krishna's nephew and son of Arjuna, am I
not? Which other has that advantage? Fear dares not approach me! These enemies
here have not a sixteenth part of my strength. Drive fast towards Drona's
division. Do not hesitate."
The
charioteer obeyed.
As
the golden chariot to which were yoked beautiful young horses approached, the
soldiers in the Kaurava army shouted: "Abhimanyu is corning! He has
come!" The Pandavas followed Abhimanyu close behind him.
The
Kaurava warriors were perturbed as they saw Abhimanyu's chariot approach them
with great speed.
"Here is one greater in valor than
Arjuna," they thought and began to lose heart.
Like
a young lion on a herd of elephants, Abhimanyu rushed on. There was a ripple in
the Kaurava ranks which bent under his headlong onslaught.
The
bend soon became a break and under Drona's very eyes, the formation was
breached and Abhimanyu entered. But the breach closed under the inspiration of
Jayadratha, king of the Sindhus, before the other Pandava warriors could force
their way in according to plan and Abhimanyu was alone!
Kaurava
warriors opposed him, but they fell like moths in the fire, one after another.
Abhimanyu's shafts searched the weak points in the armor of his enemies. And
the bodies of soldiers lay strewn on the field like Kusa grass on the
sacrificial platform.
Bows,
arrows, swords, shields, javelins, pieces of harness, chaiot canopies, axes,
maces, spears, whips, conchs, along with severed heads and limbs of slain
warriors, covered the field.
Seeing
the destruction wrought by Abhimanyu, Duryodhana was wroth and rushed in person
to oppose the youthful warrior. Drona, having leant that the king himself was
engaged in battle with Abhimanyu, became anxious and sent veterans to protect
Duryodhana.
With
great difficulty, they managed to rescue the king from the boy-hero who greatly
disappointed at the escape of Duryodhana, vented his anger on the warriors that
had come to rescue him and put them to headlong flight.
Then,
throwing away all sense of shame and chivalry, a large number of veteran
warriors made a combined and simultaneous attack on the hero, who found himself
alone, surrounded by enemies on all sides. But, even as on all sides a rock
receives the rising tide of the sea, Arjuna's son withstood this united
ouslaught.
Drona,
Aswatthama, Kripa, Karna, Sakuni, Salya and many other great warriors in their
chariots, equipped with all arms, surged in attack on the young hero, only to
be dashed back, baffled and broken.
Asmaka
rode his chariot at great speed against Abhimanyu's. But smiling, Abhimanyu
sent his shafts and disposed of him in no time. Karna's armor was pierced.
Salya
was badly wounded and sat, unable to move, in his chariot. Salya's brother came
up in great wrath to avenge his brother's disgrace but he fell and his chariot was
broken to pieces.
Thus
did Abhimanyu, alone and unsupported, oppose a host of veteran warriors and
show the skill in the use of arms which he had learnt from his illustrious
father and from Vasudeva, his uncle. Seeing this, the poet says, Dronacharya's
eyes were filled with tears of affectionate admiration.
"Was
there ever a fighter to equal this boy Abhimanyu?" exclaimed Drona to
Kripa, in the hearing of Duryodhana who could not contain his anger.
"The
acharya's partiality for Arjuna prevents him from killing Abhimanyu,"
Duryodhana said, "and he sings his praises instead of fighting him.
Indeed, if the acharya were minded to dispose of Abhimanyu, would it take him
long to do it!"
Often
did Duryodhana suspect and complain in this manner against Bhishma and Drona.
Having undertaken a war of adharma, he was often led to speak in this manner
and hurt the feelings of the acharyas who stood loyally by him, even when they
saw the wickedness of his ways.
Duhsasana
roared in anger and exclaiming: "This obstinate lad will perish now!"
led his chariot forward to attack Abhimanyu. The chariots of Abhimanyu and
Duhsasana made wonderful movement against each other and the battle raged long.
Duhsasana
was struck senseless in his car, and his charioteer just managed to drive away
from the field saving Duhsasana's life. Karna attacked Abhimanyu with his
shafts and harassed him greatly.
But
one of Abhimanyu's arrows felled Karna's bow and the young warrior followed up
this advantage so vigorously that he put Karna and his supporters to flight.
The Kaurava forces, when they saw this, were completely demoralised.
The
army was in confusion and men fled in all directions, not caring for Drona's
shouts of remonstrance. And Abhimanyu destroyed those that stood, as fire
destroys a dry jungle in summer.
THE
Pandavas, proceeding according to plan, had closely followed Abhimanyu when he
broke into the Kaurava formation. But Dhritarashtra's son-in-law Jayadratha,
the gallant king of the Sindhus, swooped down upon the Pandavas with all his
forces and enabled the breach in the formation to be effectively and solidly
closed up, so that the Pandavas found it impossible to force their way in.
Yudhishthira
hurled a javelin and cut Jayadratha's bow. But in an instant, the Saindhava
took up another bow and sent unerring shafts at Dharmaputra.
Bhimasena's
arrows made deadly work, crashing down the canopy and flagstaff of Jayadratha's
car. But the Saindhava, was alert and rearmed himself, each time his equipment
was broken. He killed Bhima's chariot horses, and the latter had to go into
Satyaki's car.
In
this manner, Jayadratha, with stubborn valor, prevented the Pandavas from
entering in Abhimanyu's wake. The young hero was thus isolated and surrounded
by the Kaurava forces.
The
son of Subhadra was however undaunted. He attacked all the warriors around him
and slew them in great number. Like rivers losing themselves in the ocean, the
soldiers that went to attack him, disappeared before his arrows. The Kaurava
army reeled under Abhimanyu's onslaughts.
Duryodhana's
son Lakshmana, a gallant young warrior, then charged on Abhimanyu. When they
saw this, retreating soldiers came back and supported Lakshmana, showering
arrows on Abhimanyu, like rain falling on a hill.
Still,
Arjuna's son was undaunted and, his shaft came swift and shining, like a
serpent fresh-sloughed, and pierced Lakshmana. The handsome youth, with
beautiful nose and eyebrows and hair, lay dead on the field and the Kaurava
soldiers were filled with grief.
"To
hell with the wicked Abhimanyu," shouted Duryodhana, and the six great
warriors, Dorna, Kripa, Karna, Aswatthama, Brihatbala and Kritavarma closed
upon Abhimanyu.
"It
is impossible to pierce this youth's armor," said Drona to Karna.
"Aim at the reins of his horses and cut them off. Disable him thus and
attack him from behind."
The
son of Surya did accordingly. Abhimanyu's bow was broken by a shaft discharged
from behind. His horses and charioteer were killed. Thus disabled, the young
warrior stood on the field, with sword and shield, facing his enemies.
As
he stood dauntless like kshatriya dharma incarnate, he filled the warriors
around with amazement. Whirling his sword, he held his own against the numerous
warriors who had surrounded him, with a skill that confounded them.
It
seemed to them as if his feet did not rest on earth and he was on wings, in the
air. Drona sent a shaft that broke Abhimanyu's sword. Karna's sharp arrows tore
his shield into bits.
Then
Abhimanyu bent down and taking up one of his chariot wheels and whirling it
like a discus, stood up facing all the enemies that surrounded him.
The
dust from the chariot wheel covered him and the poet says it enhanced the
natural beauty of the young hero. He
fought fiercely like a second Vishnu
with the discus.
But
soon, the combined onslaught of the warriors that surrounded him overpowered
him. The chariot wheel was shattered to pieces. The son of Duhsasana came up
then and closed with him in mortal combat.
Both
went down together but Duhsasana's son rose again and, while Abhimanyu was
struggling to his feet, struck him with his mace and killed him.
"Subhadra's
son who, like an elephant in a lily pond, single-handed worked havoc in the
Kaurava army, was thus overpowered by numbers and killed cruelly," said
Sanjaya to Dhritarashtra.
"And,
having killed him, your people danced around his dead body like savage hunters
exulting over their prey. All good men in the army were grieved and tears
rolled from their eyes. Even the birds of prey, that circled overhead making
noises seemed to cry 'Not thus!' 'Not thus!' "
While
there was blowing of conchs and cries of victory all over the Kaurava army,
Yuyutsu, the son of Dhritarashtra, did not approve of all this. "This is
ignoble," he angrily cried.
"Soldiers,
you have forgotten your code. Verily, you should be ashamed but, instead, you
shout brazen cries of victory. Having committed a most wicked deed, you revel
in foolish joy, blind to the danger that is imminent."
So
saying, Yuyutsu threw his weapon away in disgust and left the battlefield. This
young son of Dhritarashtra feared sin. His words were not sweet in the Kaurava
ears, but he was a good man and spoke out his mind.
YUDHISHTHIRA
was plunged in sorrow. "He has gone to the sleep that knows no waking, he
who in battle overcame Drona, Aswatthama and Duryodhana and who was like a
destroying fire to enemy forces. O warrior that made Duhsasana flee in fear,
are you dead? What then is there for me to fight for or win? Why do we want
kingdom now? What words of comfort can I offer to Arjuna? And what shall I say
to Subhadra, quivering like a cow bereaved of her calf? How can I utter to them
vain words of solace that serve no purpose? Truly, ambition destroys the
understanding of men. Like the fool who, looking for honey, falls into a
precipitous pit below and is destroyed, in my desire for victory I pushed to
the battlefront this boy, whose life was all before him in love and joy. There
is no fool like me in the world. I have killed Arjuna's beloved son, instead of
protecting him during the absence of his father."
Thus
was Yudhishthira lamenting in histent. Around him were sitting warriors, silent
in sorrowful thought of the valor of the youthful hero and his cruel death. It
was always the custom with Vyasa to come and comfort the Pandavas, whenever
they were in great sorrow.
He
was their great teacher as well as grandsire. So he appeared now before
Yudhishthira. The sage was received with all honor and Yudhishthira, having
made him sit, said: "I have tried very hard to find peace of mind, but I
am unable to find it."
"You
are wise and a knower," said Vyasa, "and it is not meet that you
should allow yourself to be lost in grief in this manner. Knowing the nature of
death, it is not right that you should grieve like the unlearned."
Vyasa
proceeded to console the bereaved Dharmaputra: "When Brahma created living beings, he was filled with
anxiety. These lives will multiply and soon their number will be beyond the
capacity of the earth to bear. There seems to be no way of coping with this.
This thought of Brahma grew into a flame which became bigger and bigger until
it threatened to destroy all creation at once. Then Rudra came and pleaded for
allaying this destructive fire. Brahma controlled the great fire and subdued it
into the law that is known to mortals as Death. This law of the creator takes
many forms, such as war or sickness or accident and keeps the balance between
birth and death. Death is thus an inescapable law of existence, ordained for
the good of the world. It is not true wisdom to be impatient with Death or to
grieve immoderately for those who die. There is no reason to pity those who
pass away. We may have reason indeed to grieve for those who remain."
After saying these words of solace, Krishna Dwaipayana retired.
Dhananjaya
and Krishna were proceeding towards their camp after defeating and slaying the
samsaptakas.
"Govinda,
I do not know why," said Arjuna, "but my mind is not at ease. My
mouth feels parched and my heart is troubled with a great foreboding of loss. I
wonder if any calamity has happened to Yudhishthira. Something makes me afraid,
Krishna."
"Do
not be concerned about Yudhishthira," replied Krishna."He and your
other brothers are safe." On the way, they halted and did the evening
prayers. Remounting the chariot, they proceeded to the camp. As they approached
the camp, Arjuna's premonitions of calamity increased.
"Janardana,
we do not hear the usual auspicious music in the camp. The soldiers, seeing me
from a distance, hang down their heads and avoid my sight. This is strange
behavior on their part. O Madhava, I fear greatly. Do you think my brothers are
safe? I am confused. How is it Abhimanyu does not run out to meet us today as
usual, accompanied by his brothers?"
They
entered the camp.
"Why
are you all wearing sad faces? I do not see Abhimanyu here. How is it I see no
glad faces? I understood that Drona
arrayed his army in the lotus formation. No one among you could pierce it as
far as I know. Did Abhimanyu force his way in? If so, he is dead, for I did not
teach him how to make his way out of that formation. Has he been slain
indeed?"
When
their mournful silence, and downcast eyes, that dared not meet his, had
confirmed his worst fears, the bereaved father burst into heart-broken
lamentation.
"Alas,
has my dear boy indeed become Yama's guest? Yudhishthira, Bhimasena,
Dhrishtadyumna and great Satyaki have all of you allowed the son of Subhadra to
be slain by the enemy? Alas! What comfort shall I give to Subhadra? What shall.
I say to Draupadi? And what solace can be given to Uttara and who shall give
it?"
Vasudeva
spoke to his stricken friend. "Beloved Arjuna," he said, "do not
give way thus to grief. Born as kshatriyas we have to live and die by weapons.
Death is ever the companion of those who have taken up the profession of arms
and go into battle, determined not to retreat. Warriors must be ever ready to
die young. Abhimanyu, boy as he was, has attained the happy regions above which
grey haired veterans yearn to reach
in battle. Abhimanyu's end is indeed the prescribed and much desired goal of
all kshatriyas. If you give way to grief in this inordinate way, your brothers
and other kings will lose heart. Stop grieving and infuse courage and fortitude
into the hearts of the others,"
Dhananjaya
desired to be told the full story of his brave son's end and Yudhishthira
related it: "I incited Abhimanyu to enter the enemy's formation. For I
knew that he alone could do it among all of us. 'Make your way into the lotus
array and we shall follow immediately behind you. This great deed of yours will
please the hearts of your father and your uncle,' I said. The youthful hero did
accordingly and broke the great formation and made his way in. We went behind
him according to plan. But, just then, the wicked Jayadratha came and
effectively stopped us. He caused the breach in the formation to be closed up
at once and we found ourselves unable to follow Abhimanyu. The Sindhu kept us
out, and then, Oh, shame on kshatriyas who could do this! A crowd of
redoubtable warriors hemmed him in, thus isolated, and slew him."
When
he heard the full story, Arjuna was again over whelmed by grief and he fell on
the ground in a swoon.
When
he recovered, he took an oath: "Before sunset tomorrow, I shall slay this
Jayadratha who caused my son's death. If Drona and Kripa come between him and
me these acharyas also shall be overwhelmed and slain!"
Saying
this, he twanged the Gandiva string, and Krishna blew the Panchajanya. And
Bhima said:
"This
twang of Arjuna's bow and this blare of Krishna's conch shall be, unto the sons
of Dhritarashtra, the summons of Death!"
NEWS
of Arjuna's oath reached the enemy. The spies informed Duryodhana's friends
that Arjuna, having learnt that Jayadratha was the cause of Abhimanyu's death,
had vowed to kill the Sindhu king before sunset next day.
Vriddhakshatra,
the illustrious king of the Sindhus, was blessed with a son, who was named
Jayadratha. At the time of the birth of the prince, a voice was heard to say:
"This prince will attain great glory and he will attain the happy regions
above, slain in battle. One who, among the warriors of all ages, ranks among
the most illustrious will, in the field of battle, sever his head from the
body."
All
living beings must die but hardly any, however wise or brave, welcome it.
Vriddhakshatra was grieved to hear the voice declare his son's end.
In
his disturbed state of mind, he uttered a curse: "He, who shall cause my
son's head to roll down on the ground, shall have his head burst at that very
moment into fragments."
Jayadratha
grew up and, when he reached manhood, Vriddhakshatra handed over the care of
the State to the prince. He retired to the forest, where he spent the evening
of his days in austerities in an ashrama near the plain, which afterwards
became the Kurukshetra field of battle.
When
Jayadratha came to know about Arjuna's vow, he remembered the prediction about
his death and feared his end was near.
"I
do not want to be in this battle any longer. Let me go back to my
country," he said to Duryodhana.
"Do
not fear, Saindhava," replied Duryodhana. "Here are all these
veterans and warriors who will stand between you and danger. Karna, Chitrasena,
Vivimsati, Bhurisravas, Salya, Vrishasena, Purumitra, Jaya, Bhoja, Kamboja,
Sudakshina, Satyavrata, Vikarna, Durmukha, Duhsasana, Subahu, Kalinga, the
Avanti princes, Drona, Drona's illustrious son and Sakuni all these warriors
and I myself are here and you cannot be in danger. The whole of my army will
have but one task today, to defend you against Arjuna. You should not leave us
now." Jayadratha agreed to remain. He went to Drona and said to him:
"Master,
you taught me and Arjuna and you know us both well. What is your appraisal of
us two?"
"Son,
I discharged my duties as teacher and dealt with you both impartially. The
instruction was the same to you and to Arjuna, but Arjuna excels because of his
superior discipline and his own practice. But, you need not be discouraged by
this. You will be placed behind a strong force that Arjuna cannot easily
pierce. Fight according to the tradition of your ancestors. Death comes to us
all, cowards as well as brave men. And the warrior dying in battle attains with
ease the happy regions which others only attain with great difficulty. Discard
fear and fight."
Drona,
having spoken thus to Jayadratha, proceeded to marshal the forces for the next
day. Twelve miles to the rear of the main army Jayadratha and his detachment
were placed in a strongly guarded position.
Bhurisravas,
Karna, Aswatthama, Salya, Vrishasena and Kripa were there with all their
forces. Between them and the Pandava army, Dronacharya arrayed the main Kaurava
forces in circular formation.
Durmarshana's
army was beaten. Like clouds driven about by a gale, the Kaurava forces were
scattered and fled in all directions. When Duhsasana saw this, his anger rose.
Leading
a huge force of elephants he surrounded Arjuna. Duhsasana was a very wicked man
but he was brave also. He fought Arjuna fiercely and the field was strewn with
the dead. Finally, he withdrew defeated and went back to join Drona's forces.
Savyasachi's
car swiftly proceeded forward and passed Drona. "Illustrious one, grieving
for my son, I have come to wreak vengeance on the Sindhu king. I crave your
blessings for the fulfilment of my vow," said Arjuna to the acharya.
The
acharya smiled and said: "Arjuna, you must first fight and defeat me
before you can reach Jayadratha." Saying this Drona discharged a shower of
arrows on Arjuna's car. Partha also replied with his arrows but these the
acharya parried with ease and sent flaming shafts that hit Krishna and Arjuna.
The
Pandava then decided to cut Drona's bow and bent his Gandiva for that purpose.
Even as he was pulling his bowstring Drona's shaft came and cut the string.
The
acharya, still retaining the smile on his face, rained a shower of arrows on
Arjuna and his horses and chariot. Arjuna fought back, but the acharya showered
his arrows that covered Arjuna and his chariot in darkness.
Krishna
saw things were not going at all well and said: "Partha, no more waste of
time. Let us proceed. It is no use fighting this brahmana, who seems to know no
fatigue." Saying this, Krishna drove Arjuna's chariot to the left of the
acharya and proceeded forward.
"Stop, surely you will not proceed
without defeating your enemy," said Drona.
"You
are my guru, not my enemy, O acharya. I am in the position of a son to you.
There is no one in the wide world that can defeat you," said Arjuna and
they proceeded forward at a swift pace bypassing Drona.
Then
Arjuna pierced the Bhoja army. Kritavarma and Sudakshina who opposed his
passage were defeated. Srutayudha also tried to stop Arjuna's progress. There
was a fierce battle in which Srutayudha lost his horses and he hurled his mace
at Krishna.
His
mother had obtained this mace as a result of her offering but the condition
attached to the boon operated and it came back and struck Srutayudha himself
dead. This is the story of the mace.
Parnasa
went through penances that pleased Varuna and obtained from that god a boon
that her son Srutayudha may not be killed by any enemy.
"I
shall give your son a divine weapon. Let him use it in all his battles. No
enemy will be able to defeat him or kill him. But he should not use the weapon
against one who does not fight. If he does, the weapon will recoil and kill
him. Saying this, god Varuna gave a mace. Srutayudha, when fighting Arjuna,
disregarding the injunction, hurled the mace at Krishna who was not fighting
but was only driving Arjuna's chariot.
The
missile hit Janardana's chest and immediately rebounded fiercely back to Srutayudha. And like a demon recoiling fatally on
the magician, that commits an error in uttering the spell of power that holds it in thrall, it slew Srutayudha and
laid him dead on the field, like a great forest tree blown down by a storm.
Then
the king of Kamboja led his forces against Arjuna. After a fierce fight, he lay
stretched dead on the field like a great flagstaff after the festival is over.
When
they saw the strong warriors, Srutayudha and the king of Kamboja, slain, the
Kaurava force was in great confusion.
Srutayu
and his brother Asrutayu then attacked Partha on both sides trying to save the
situation, and greatly harassed him. At one stage of this battle, Arjuna leaned
on the flagstaff, dazed with the wounds he received.
But
Krishna spoke to him encouragingly and Arjuna recovered and resumed the fight,
slaying the two brothers as well as their two sons who continued the struggle.
Arjuna marched on and, killing many more warriors successfully made his way to
Jayadratha.
WHEN
Dhritarashtra heard Sanjaya relate the success of Arjuna, he exclaimed:
"Oh Sanjaya! When Janardana came to Hastinapura seeking a settlement, I
told Duryodhana that it was a great opportunity and he must not lose it. I told
him to make peace with his cousins. 'Kesava has come to do us a good turn. Do
not disregard his advice,' I said. But Duryodhana heeded not. What Karna and
Duhsasana said seemed to him better advice than mine. The Destroyer entered his
mind and he sought his own ruin. Drona deprecated war, so also did Bhishma,
Bhurisravas, Kripa and others. But my obstinate son would not listen. Impelled
by inordinate ambition, he got entangled in anger and hatred, and invited this
ruinous war."
To
Dhritarashtra thus lamenting, Sanjaya said: "Of what avail are your
regrets now? The life-giving water has all run to waste and you now seek to
stop the breach. Why did you not prevent the son of Kunti from gambling? Had
you done the right thing then, all this great grief would have been stopped at
the source. Even later, if you had been firm and stopped your son from his evil
ways, this calamity could have been avoided. You saw the evil and yet, against
your own sound judgment, you followed the foolish advice of Karna and Sakuni.
Kesava, Yudhishthira and Drona do not respect you now as they did before.
Vasudeva now knows that your rectitude is only hypocrisy. The Kauravas are now
doing their utmost as warriors, but they are unequal to opposing the strength
of Arjuna, Krishna, Satyaki and Bhima. Duryodhana has not spared himself. He is
putting forth his utmost strength. It is not meet that you should now accuse
him or his devoted soldiers."
"Dear
Sanjaya, I admit my dereliction of duty. What you say is right. No one can
change the course of fate. Tell me what happened. Tell me all, be it ever so
unpleasant," said the old king convulsed with grief. And obedient to the
old king's behest, Sanjaya continued his narration.
Duryodhana
was greatly agitated when he saw Arjuna's chariot proceeding triumphantly
towards the Sindhu king. He rushed to Drona and complained bitterly:
"Arjuna
has effected a breach in the great army and has advanced to Jayadratha's
position. Seeing our discomfiture, the warriors, protecting the Sindhu king,
will surely lose heart. They had believed that it was impossible for Arjuna to
get past you and that has now been falsified. He advanced before your eyes and
nothing was done to prevent it. You seem indeed bent on helping the Pandavas. I
am in great distress of mind. Sir, tell me, in what matter have I offended you?
Why are you letting me down in this way? If I had known that you would do this,
I should not have asked Jayadratha to stay here. It was a great mistake I
committed in not letting him go, as he desired, back to his own country. If
Arjuna attacks him, it is not possible for him to escape death. Forgive me. I
am talking foolishly, distracted by grief. Do go in person yourself to save the
Saindhava."
To
this frantic appeal Drona made answer: "King, I shall not take offence at
your thoughtless and unworthy remarks. You are like a son to me. Aswatthama
himself is not dearer! Do what I ask you. Take this coat of armor and, donning
it, go and stop Arjuna. I cannot do so for my presence is necessary in this
part of the field. See there, the clouds of arrows! The Pandava army is
attacking us in great force. Yudhishthira is here unsupported by Arjuna and is
this not just the opportunity we wanted? Our very plan has borne fruit and I
must now take Yudhishthira prisoner and deliver him to you. I cannot give up
this objective and run after Phalguna now. If I go after Arjuna now, our battle
array will be hopelessly broken and we shall be lost. Let me put this armor on
you. Go in confidence. Do not fear. You have valor, skill and experience. This
coat will protect you against all weapons. It will not let any blow pass
through your body. Go forth to battle, Duryodhana, in confidence as Indra did,
clad in the armor given by Brahma. May victory be yours." Duryodhana's
confidence was restored and, as the acharya directed, he went, dressed in magic
armor and accompanied by a large force of soldiers, to attack Arjuna.
Arjuna
had crossed the Kaurava army and gone far ahead towards where Jayadratha had
been kept for safety. Seeing that the horses were somewhat fatigued, Krishna
stopped the chariot and was about to unyoke the tired animals, when the
brothers Vinda and Anuvinda came up suddenly and began to attack Arjuna.
They
were defeated and Arjuna scattered their forces and slew them both. After this,
Krishna unyoked the chariot and let the horses roll in the mud. The horses
rested for a while and were refreshed. Then, they proceeded again according to
plan.
"Dhananjaya,
look behind! There comes the foolhardy Duryodhana. What good luck! Long have
you suppressed your anger, and now is the time for you to let yourself go. Here
is the man who caused all this grief, delivering himself into your hands. But
remember he is a great archer, well-versed in bow lore, and also a keen and
strong-limbed fighter." Thus said Krishna and they halted to give battle
to the Kaurava.
Duryodhana
approached without fear.
"They
say, Arjuna, that you have done acts of prowess. I have not seen this myself.
Let me see if your courage and your skill are indeed as great as your
reputation," said Duryodhana to Arjuna as he began to battle.
The
combat was fierce indeed and Krishna was surprised.
"Partha,
I am astonished," said Krishna, "How is it your arrows do not seem to
hurt Duryodhana? This is the first time I see the shafts proceeding from the
Gandiva bow strike their targets without effect. This is strange, Have your
arms lost their power? Or has the Gandiva bow lost its quality? Why do your
arrows strike Duryodhana and drop to the ground without piercing him? This is
most puzzling."
Arjuna
smiled and replied: "I understand. This man has come dressed by Drona in
charmed armor. The acharya has taught me the secret of this armor, but this man
wears it as a bullock might do. You will
see some fun now!"
Saying
thus, Arjuna proceeded to shoot his arrows, first depriving Duryodhana of his
horses, his charioteer and his car. Then, Arjuna broke his bow and disarmed him
completely. There after he sent needle-eye darts which pierced just those parts
of Duryodhana's body that were not covered by armor, until he could bear it no
longer and turned and fled.
When Duryodhana was thus discomfited, Krishna
blew his conch and it sent a thrill of fear in Jayadratha's army. The warriors
around the Sindhu king were surprised. They at once got ready in their chariots
and Bhurisravas, Chala, Karna, Vrishasena, Kripa, Salya, Aswatthama and
Jayadratha, eight of them, arrayed their forces against Arjuna.
WHEN
the Pandavas saw Duryodhana proceeding in the direction of Arjuna, they
attacked the Kaurava army in force so as to hold Drona and prevent him from
going to Jayadratha's rescue.
So,
Dhrishtadyumna led his forces repeatedly against Drona. As a result of all
this, the Kaurava army had to fight on three fronts, and was greatly weakened.
Driving
his chariot right against Drona's, Dhrishtadyumna attacked him violently.
Drona's chestnut horses and the Panchala's dove-colored ones were entangled
with one another and presented a picturesque sight like the clouds at sunset.
Dhrishtadyumna
threw away his bow and, sword and shield in hand, he sprang upon Drona's
chariot. Now standing on the shafts of the vehicle, now on the horses and now
on the yoke, he attacked Drona bewilderingly, all the while seeming to scorch
him with baleful and bloodshot eyes.
Long
did this fight go on. Drona pulled his bow in great wrath and sent a shaft,
which would have drunk the Panchala's life but for the unexpected intervention
of Satyaki who sent an arrow and diverted the acharya's shaft.
Drona
then turned and attacked Satyaki, which enabled the Panchala warriors to take
Dhrishtadyumna away. Drona, hissing like a black cobra, his eyes red with
anger, advanced on Satyaki who was among the front rank warriors on the Pandava
side and who, when he saw Drona desiring battle, went forward to accept the
challenge.
"Here
is the man who, giving up his vocation as a brahmana has taken up the
profession of fighting and is causing distress to the Pandavas," Satyaki
said to his charioteer. "This man is the principal cause of Duryodhana's
arrogance. This man fancies himself
a very great soldier and is ever bursting with conceit. I must teach him a
lesson. Take the chariot up quickly."
Satyaki's
charioteer accordingly lashed the silver-white horses and took the car at a
great pace. Satyaki and Drona shot shafts at one another so quick that they
covered the sun, and the battlefield was in darkness for a while. The steel
shafts swished glimmering like newly-sloughed snakes rushing about.
The
chariot hoods and the flagstaffs on both sides were battered down. Drona as
well as Satyaki were bleeding profusely. The warriors on either side stood
still watching the duel and they did not blow their conchs or raise their war
cries or sound their lion-roars.
The
Devas, Vidyadharas, Gandharvas and Yakshas watched the great battle from above.
Drona's bow was broken by a well-aimed shaft from Satyaki, and the son of
Bharadwaja had to take another bow and, even as he strung it, Satyaki shot it
down again. Drona took up another bow
that too was shot down.
And
so it went on till Drona lost a hundred and one bows without being able to
shoot an arrow. The great acharya said to himself: "This man Satyaki is a
warrior in the class of Sri Rama, Kartavirya, Dhananjaya and Bhishma,"and
was glad he had an opponent worthy of him.
It
was a craftsman's professional joy at skill displayed in the art he loved. For
every specially-charged shaft that Drona sent, Satyaki had a ready answer of
equivalent quality. Long did this equal combat continue. Drona of unrivalled
skill in archery then resolved on killing Satyaki and sent the fire astra. But
Satyaki saw this and, losing no time, sent the Varuna astra to counteract it.
But
now Satyaki's strength began to fail and, seeing this, the Kaurava warriors
were glad and shouted in satisfaction. When Yudhishthira saw Satyaki was hard
pressed, he told those nearby to go to Satyaki's relief. "Our great and
good hero Yuyudhana (Satyaki) is being overpowered by Drona. You should go
there at once," he said to Dhrishtadyumna.
"The
brahmana will otherwise slay Satyaki in a few minutes. Why are you hesitating?
Go at once. Drona is playing with Satyaki as a cat plays with a bird. Satyaki
is indeed in the paws of the Destroyer." Yudhishthira ordered the army to
make a powerful attack on Drona. Satyaki was saved with difficulty. Just then,
the sound of Krishna's conch was heard from the sector where Arjuna was
fighting.
"O
Satyaki, I hear Panchajanya," cried Yudhishthira; "but the twang of
Arjuna's bow does not accompany it. I fear Arjuna has been surrounded by
Jayadratha's friends and is in danger. Arjuna is opposed by forces both in
front of him and in his rear. He
pierced the Kaurava ranks in the morning and he has not come back yet though
the greater part of the day is gone. How is it that only Krishna's conch is
heard? I fear Dhananjaya has been slain and therefore Krishna has taken up
arms. Satyaki, there is nothing you cannot accomplish. Your bosom friend
Arjuna, he, who taught you, is in mortal danger. Often has Arjuna spoken to me
admiringly of your great skill and prowess. 'There is not another soldier like
Satyaki,' he said to me when we were in the forest. Oh, look there! The dust is
rising that side. I am certain Arjuna has been surrounded. Jayadratha is a
powerful warrior, and there are many enemy warriors there helping him and
resolved to die in defence of him. Go at once, Satyaki." Thus did
Dharmaputra speak in great trepidation.
Satyaki,
who was weary after his battle with Drona, replied: "Faultless among men,
I shall obey your command. What would I not do for Dhananjaya's sake? My life
is the merest trifle in my eyes. If you order me, I am ready to fight the gods
themselves. But allow me to put before you what the wise Vasudeva and Arjuna
told me when they left. 'Until we return after slaying Jayadratha you should not
leave Yudhishthira's side. Be vigilant in protecting him. We entrust this to
you in confidence and go. There is only one warrior in the Kaurava army whom we
fear, and he is Drona. You know his sworn intention. We go leaving
Dharmaputra's safety in our hands.' Thus said Vasudeva and Arjuna to me when
they went. Arjuna laid this trust on me, believing me fit for it. How can I
disregard his command? Do not have any fear about Arjuna's safety. No one can
defeat him. The Sindhu king and the others cannot cope with a sixteenth part of
Arjuna. Dharmaputra, to whom shall I entrust your safety if I must go? I see no
one here who can stand against Drona if he comes to seize you. Do not ask me to
go. Consider well before you command me to leave."
"Satyaki,"
replied Yudhishthira, "I have thought over it. As I have weighed the
danger against the need and I have concluded that you must go. You leave me
with my full permission. Here is the powerful Bhima to look to my safety. There
is Dhrishtadyumna also, and there are many others besides. There is no need to
worry about me."
So saying, Yudhishthira placed a boxful
of arrows and other weapons in Satyaki's chariot and got fresh horses yoked
thereto and sent Satyaki uttering benedictions on him.
"Bhimasena,
Yudhishthira is your charge. Be vigilant," said Satyaki, and went to join
Dhananjaya.
Satyaki
met with violent resistance as he proceeded to dash through the Kaurava forces.
But he cut his way through bearing down all opposition. But the resistance was
very stiff and his progress was slow.
When
Drona saw Satyaki part from Yudhishthira, he began to assault the Pandava
formation without rest or interval, until it began to break and retreat.
Yudhishthira was greatly agitated.
"ARJUNA
has not returned, nor has Satyaki, who was sent after him. Bhima, my fear
grows. I hear the Panchajanya, but not the twang of Arjuna's bowstring.
Satyaki, that bravest and most loyal of friends, has not come back with any
tidings. My anxiety is increasing every moment," said Yudhishthira to
Bhima in great perplexity of mind.
"I
have never seen you so agitated," replied Bhimasena. "Do, not let
your fortitude grow less. Command me as you please. Do not let the wheels of
your mind stick in the mud of anxiety."
"Dearest
Bhima, I fear your brother has been slain, and it seems to me Madhava has now
himself taken up arms. I hear the conch of Madhava but I hear not the
resounding twang of Gandiva. I fear Dhananjaya, the unrivalled hero, in whom
were centerd all our hopes, has been killed. My mind is confused. If you would do as I tell you, go at
once to where Arjuna is. Join him and Satyaki, and do what needs to be done,
and come back. Satyaki, under orders
from me, pierced the Kaurava ranks and
proceeded in the direction of Arjuna. You go now, and do likewise and, if you
indeed see them alive, I shall know it by your lion-roar."
"My
Lord, do not grieve. I shall go and let you know they are safe," said
Bhima, and immediately turning to Dhrishtadyumna said: "Panchala, you know
very well that Drona is seeking, by some means or other, to seize Dharmaputra
alive. Our foremost duty is to protect the King. But I must also obey him and
fulfil his command. And so I go, trusting him to your care."
"Bhima,
do not be concerned. Go with an assured mind. Drona cannot take Yudhishthira
without first killing me," said the heroic son of Drupada, sworn enemy of
Drona. And Bhima hurried away.
The
Kauravas surrounded Bhima in full force and vowed to prevent him from going to
Arjuna's relief. But like a lion scattering less noble beasts he put his
enemies to flight, killing no less than eleven of the sons of Dhritarashtra.
Bhima then approached Drona himself. "Stop," cried Drona. "Here
I am, your enemy. You cannot proceed further without defeating me. Your brother
Arjuna went in with my consent. But I cannot let you go." Drona spoke thus
believing that he would receive the same courtesy from Bhima as he did from
Arjuna. But Bhima was furious at hearing these words of Drona, and answered
scornfully.
"Oh
brahmana, it was not with your permission that Arjuna went. He broke your
resistance and pierced your battle lines fighting his way through, but he did
not hurt you out of pity. But I shall not, like Arjuna, show mercy to you. I am
your enemy. Once upon a time, you were our preceptor and were like a father to
us. We respected you as such. Now, you have yourself said you are our enemy.
May it be so!" Saying this, Bhima aimed his mace at Drona's chariot that
crumbled to pieces. And Drona had to take to another chariot.
The
second chariot too was broken to pieces. And Bhima forced his way through
overcoming all opposition. Drona lost eight chariots that day. And the army of
the Bhojas, that tried to stop Bhima, was completely destroyed.
He
proceeded mowing down all opposition and reached where Arjuna was fighting
Jayadratha's forces.
As
soon as he saw Arjuna, Bhima roared like a lion. Hearing that roar, Krishna and
Arjuna were exceedingly pleased and raised yells of joy. Yudhishthira heard
these roars and, relieved of his doubts and anxieties, he pronounced blessings
on Arjuna. And he thought within himself:
"Before
the sun sets today, Arjuna's oath will be fulfilled. He will slay the man who
caused Abhimanyu's death and will return in triumph. Duryodhana may sue for
peace after Jayadratha's death. Seeing so many of his brothers slain, it is
possible that foolish Duryodhana may see light. The lives of numerous kings and
great warriors have been sacrificed on the field of battle and even the
stubborn and narrow-visioned Duryodhana may now see his fault and ask for
peace. Will this indeed happen? The great grandsire Bhishma has been offered as
a sacrifice. Will this wicked enmity end with it and shall we be saved from
further cruel destruction?"
While
thus Yudhishthira was fondly hoping and dreaming of peace, the battle was
raging with great fury where Bhima, Satyaki and Arjuna were engaging the enemy.
Only the Lord knows through what travail the
world must evolve. His ways are inscrutable.
ARJUNA
had left Yudhishthira behind to repel Drona's attacks and had gone to make good
his word that before sunset Jayadratha would lie dead on the field of battle.
Jayadratha
had been the main cause of Abhimanyu's death. He it was who had effectively
prevented the relief of Abhimanyu by the Pandavas, and thereby caused Abhimanyu
to be isolated, overpowered and slain.
We
have seen how Yudhishthira in his anxiety sent first Satyaki and then Bhima to
join Arjuna in his battle against Jayadratha. Bhima reached where Arjuna was
engaged and sounded his simhanada (lion-roar). Dharmaputra heard the lion-roar
of Bhima and knew that Arjuna was found alive.
It
was the fourteenth day and the battle raged fiercely at many points, between
Satyaki and Bhurisravas at one place, between Bhima and Karna at another and
between Arjuna and Jayadratha at a third.
Drona
remained at the main front resisting the attack of the Panchalas and the
Pandavas, and leading a counter-offensive against them.
Duryodhana
arrived with his forces at the sector where Arjuna attacked Jayadratha, but was
soon defeated and turned back. The battle thus raged long and furiously on more
than one front. The armies were so deployed that each side was exposed to
danger in its rear.
Duryodhana
was speaking to Drona:
"Arjuna, Bhima and Satyaki have
treated us with contempt and proceeded successfully to Jayadratha's sector and
they are pressing hard on the Sindhu king. It is indeed strange that, under
your command, our battle array should have been broken and our plans completely
foiled. Everyone asks how it is that the great Drona with all his mastery of
the science of war has been so badly outmaneuvered. What answer shall I make? I
have been betrayed by you."
Duryodhana
thus, once again, bitterly reproached Drona, who replied unperturbed:
"Duryodhana,
your accusations are as unworthy as they are contrary to truth. There is
nothing to be gained by talking about what is past and beyond repair. Think of
what is to be done now."
"Sir,
it is for you to advise me. Tell me what should be done. Give your best
consideration to the difficulties of the situation and decide and let us do it
quickly." Puzzled and perplexed, thus did Duryodhana plead.
Drona
replied: "My son, the situation is no doubt serious. Three great generals
have advanced, outmanoeuvring us. But they have as much reason to be anxious as
we, for their rear is now left as open to attack as ours. We are on both sides
of them and their position is not therefore safe. Be heartened, go up to
Jayadratha again, and do all you can to support him. It is of no avail to
dishearten oneself by dwelling on past defeats and difficulties. It is best I
stay here and send you reinforcements as and when required. I must keep the
Panchalas and Pandava army engaged here. Otherwise, we shall be wholly
destroyed."
Accordingly,
Duryodhana went with fresh reinforcements again to where Arjuna was directing
his attack on Jayadratha.
The
narrative of the fourteenth day's fighting at Kurukshetra shows that, even in
the Mahabharata times, the modern tactics of turning and enveloping movements
was not unknown.
The
advantages and risks of such strategy appear to have been fully understood and
discussed even in those days. Arjuna's flanking manoeuvres perplexed his
enemies greatly. The story of that day's battle between Bhima and Karna reads
very much like a chapter from the narrative of a modern war.
Bhima
did not desire to fight Karna or remain long engaged with him. He was eager to
reach where Arjuna was. But Radheya would, by no means, permit him to do this.
He showered his arrows on Bhimasena and stopped him from proceeding.
The
contrast between the two warriors was striking. Karna's handsome lotus-like
face was radiant with smiles when he attacked Bhima saying: "Do not show your
back," "Now, do not flee like a coward," and so on.
Bhima
was all anger when taunted in this manner. He was maddened by Karna's smiles.
The battle was fierce but Karna did everything with a smiling air of ease
whereas Bhima's face glowed with rage and his movements were violent.
Karna
would keep at a distance and send his well-aimed shafts but Bhima would
disregard the arrows and javelins failing thick upon him and always try to
close with Karna.
Radheya
did everything he did, calmly and with graceful ease, whereas Bhimasena fumed
and fretted with impatience, as he showed his amazing strength of limb.
Bhima
was red with bleeding wounds all over and presented the appearance of an Asoka
tree in full blossom. But he minded them not, as he attacked Karna cutting bows
in twain and smashing his chariot.
When
Karna had to run for a fresh chariot, there was no smile on his face. For anger
rose in him, like the sea on a full moon day, as he attacked Bhima. Both showed
the strength of tigers and the speed of eagles and their anger was now like
that of serpents in a fury.
Bhima
brought before his mind all the insults and injuries which he and his brothers
and Draupadi had suffered, and fought desperately, caring not for life.
The
two cars dashed against each other and the milk white horses of Karna's chariot
and Bhimasena's black horses jostled in the combat like clouds in a
thunderstorm.
Karna's
bow was shattered and his charioteer reeled and fell. Karna then hurled a
javelin at Bhima. But Bhima parried it and continued pouring his arrows on
Karna, who had taken up a fresh bow.
Again
and again did Karna lose his chariot. Duryodhana saw Karna's plight and calling
his brother Durjaya said: "This wicked Pandava will kill Karna. Go at once
and attack Bhima and save Karna's life."
Durjaya
went as ordered and attacked Bhima
who, in a rage sent seven shafts which sent Durjaya's horses and his charioteer
to the abode of Yama and Durjaya himself fell mortally wounded.
Seeing
his bleeding body wriggling on the ground like a wounded snake, Karna was
overwhelmed with grief and circled round the hero, paying mournful honor to the
dead.
Bhima did not stop but continued the
fight and greatly harassed Karna. Karna once again had to find a fresh chariot.
He sent well aimed shafts and hit Bhima who in a fury hurled his mace at Karna
and it crashed on Karna's chariot and killed his charioteer and horses and
broke the flagstaff. Karna now stood on the ground with bent bow.
Duryodhana
now sent another brother to relieve Karna. Durmukha went accordingly and took
Karna on his chariot.
Seeing
yet another son of Dhritarashtra come to offer himself up to death, Bhima
licked his lips in gusto and sent nine shafts on the newly arrived enemy. And,
even as Karna climbed up to take his seat in the chariot, Durmukha's armor was
broken and he fell lifeless.
When
Karna saw the warrior bathed in blood and lying dead by his side, he was again
overwhelmed with grief and stood motionless for a while.
Bhima
relentlessly continued his attack on Karna. His sharp arrows pierced Karna's
coat of armor and he was in pain.
But
he too at once returned the attack and wounded Bhima all over.
Still
the Pandava would not stop and attacked Karna furiously. The sight of so many
of Duryodhana's brothers dying for his sake one after another was too much for
Karna.
This,
and the physical pain of his own wounds made him lose courage and he turned
away defeated. But, when Bhima stood up on the field of battle red with wounds
all over like a flaming fire and emitted a triumphant yell, he could not brook
it but returned to the combat.
DHRITARASHTRA,
hearing of the slaughter of his sons and the check received by Karna, was
desolate. "O Sanjaya, like moths falling in the fire, my sons are being destroyed. The stubborn Duryodhana has
led the lads Durmukha and Durjaya, to their doom. Alas, I have lost these boys!
The fool said: 'Karna, unrivalled among men for courage and the accomplishment
of war, is on our side. Who then can
defeat us? Even the gods cannot win a battle against me when Karna is on my
side. What can these Pandavas do to me?' But now he has seen Karna beating a
retreat when Bhimasena attacked him. Has he seen wisdom at least now? Alas,
Sanjaya, my son has earned the undying hatred of the son of Vayu, Bhima, who
has the strength of the god of death! We are indeed ruined!"
Sanjaya
replied: "O king, was it not you who brought about this unquenchable
hatred, listening to the words of your foolish and stubborn son? To you indeed
must be traced this greater disaster. You are now but reaping the fruit of your
discarding the advice of Bhishma and the other elders. Blame yourself, king. Do
not blame Karna and the brave warriors who have done their best in
battle."
After thus admonishing the blind king,
Sanjaya proceeded to tell him what happened. Five sons of Dhritarashtra,
Durmarsha, Dussaha, Durmata, Durdhara and Jaya, when they saw Karna put to
flight by Bhima at once rushed on the latter.
When
Karna saw this, he was heartened and turned back to resume his attack.
Bhimasena at first ignored the sons of Dhritarashtra and concentrated on Karna.
But they became so violent in their
assault that Bhima got incensed and, turning his attentions on them, disposed
of all five of them. They lay dead on the field, with their horses and their
charioteers.
The
young warriors with their bleeding wounds presented the appearance of a forest
with trees, uprooted by a strong wind and lying flat on the ground with their
beautiful red blossoms.
When
Karna saw another batch of princes slaughtered for his sake he fought more
grimly than ever before. Bhima too was more violent than before, thinking of
all the evil that Karna had wrought against the Pandavas.
He
used his bow so as to disarm Karna completely. His horses and charioteer were
also laid low. Karna now jumped down from his chariot and hurled his mace at
Bhima.
But
Bhima warded it off with shafts from his powerful bow and covered Karna with a
shower of arrows and forced him to turn back and walk on foot.
Duryodhana,
who watched this combat, was greatly grieved and sent seven of his brothers
Chitra, Upachitra, Chitraksha, Charuchitra, Sarasana, Chitrayudha and
Chitravarman, to relieve Radheya.
They
gave battle to Bhima displaying great skill and energy. But fell dead one after
another, for Bhima's passion was roused and his attack was irresistible.
When
Karna saw so many of the sons of Dhritarashtra sacrificing themselves for him,
his face was wet with tears and he mounted a fresh chariot and began to attack
Bhima with deadly effect.
The
two combatants clashed like clouds in a thunderstorm. Kesava, Satyaki and
Arjuna were filled with admiration and joy as they watched Bhima fighting.
Bhurisravas,
Kripacharya, Aswatthama, Salya, Jayadratha and many other warriors of the
Kaurava army also broke into exclamations, astonished at the way in which Bhima
fought.
Duryodhana
was stung to the quick and burned with anger. Karna's plight caused him extreme
anxiety. He feared Bhima would kill Radheya that day, and sent seven more of
his brothers directing them to surround Bhima and attack him simultaneously.
The
seven brothers sent by Duryodhana attacked Bhima. But fell one after another,
struck down by his arrows. Vikarna, who was killed last, was beloved of all.
When
Bhima saw him fall dead after a brave fight, he was deeply moved and exclaimed:
"Alas, O Vikarna, you were just and knew what was dharma! You fought in
loyal obedience to the call of duty. I had to kill even you. Indeed this battle
is a curse upon us wherein men like you and the grandsire Bhishma have had to
be slaughtered."
Seeing
Duryodhana's brothers, who came to help him, slain one after another in this
manner, Karna was overwhelmed by anguish. He leant back on his seat in the
chariot and closed his eyes unable to bear the sight.
Then
recovering control over his emotions he hardened his heart and began again his
attack on Bhima. Bow after bow was broken up by Bhimasena's shaft, but Karna
kept the battle.
Eighteen
times he had to take up a fresh bow. Karna had long ago discarded his smile and
his face showed savage anger even as Bhima's. They now glared fiercely at each
other as they fought.
Yudhishthira
now heard Bhima's roar rise above the tumult of battle, and heartened by it, he
fought Drona with increased vigor.
In
the renewed and fierce battle between Bhima and Karna, Bhima lost his horses
and charioteer. Soon his chariot also was smashed to pieces. Then, Bhima hurled
his spear at Karna who was in his chariot and as Karna parried it with his shaft,
Bhima advanced with sword and shield.
But
Karna broke the shield at once with his shafts. Then, Bhima whirled his sword
and hurled it, and it cut Karna's bow into two and fell on the ground. But
Karna took up yet another bow and assailed Bhima with arrows more fiercely than
before.
Bhima,
in a fit of uncontrollable rage, sprang upon Karna. Radheya took cover behind
his flagstaff and escaped destruction. Thereupon, Bhima jumped out of Karna's
car down into the field of battle where, deprived of all arms, he used the
elephants lying dead on the ground to protect himself from Karna's arrows and
continued the fight.
He
picked up anything he could lay hands upon, wheels of broken chariots, the
limbs of horses and elephants that were lying about, and hurling them at Karna,
kept him engaged without interval. But this could not long continue and Bhima
was soon at a great disadvantage. Karna said exultingly:
"Foolish
glutton, you do not know the science of war; why do you engage yourself in
battle here? Go to the jungle and fill yourself with fruits and roots and grow
fat. You are a savage, not fit for kshatriya battle. Get away!" Hurling
insulting taunts at him, he made the helpless Bhima burn with rage, but mindful
of his word to Kunti, refrained from killing him.
"There,
Arjuna! See how poor Bhima is being harassed by Karna," said Krishna.
Dhananjaya's eyes burned red with wrath, when he saw the plight of his valiant
brother.
He
bent his Gandiva bow and discharged his arrows on Karna who then gladly turned
his attentions from Bhima to Arjuna. He had pledged his word to Kunti not to
kill more than one of the Pandavas and he reserved that option for the great
Arjuna.
"THERE
comes the valorous Satyaki," said Krishna, the charioteer, to Dhananjaya.
"Your disciple and friend is marching up, triumphantly breaking through
enemy ranks."
"I
do not like it, Madhava," replied Arjuna. "It was not right for him
to have left Dharmaputra and come here to join me. Drona is there ever seeking
an opportunity to seize Dharmaputra. Satyaki should have stuck to his post
there to guard him. Instead, he has come here. Old Bhurisravas has intercepted
Satyaki. It was a great mistake for Yudhishthira to have sent Satyaki away
here."
There
was a family feud between Bhurisravas and Satyaki that made them inveterate
foes.
It had come about this way. When Devaki,
who was to be the blessed mother of Sri Krishna, was a maiden, many princes
competed for her hand and there was a great battle between Somadatta and Sini
over it.
Sini
won, and on behalf of Vasudeva he placed Devaki in his chariot and took her
away. Since that incident there was feud between the two clans, the Sini family
and that of Somadatta. Satyaki was Sini's grandson.
Bhurisravas
was Somadatta's son. When they found themselves on opposite sides in the
Kurukshetra battle, it was natural that, as soon as Bhurisravas saw Satyaki,
the old warrior challenged Satyaki to battle.
"Oh
Satyaki," cried Bhurisravas, "I know you strut about thinking
yourself a man of great prowess. Here now I have you in my power and will
presently finish you. Long have I sought for this meeting. Like Indrajit
destroyed Dasaratha's son Lakshmana, you will die today and go to the abode of
Yama, gladdening the hearts of many a bereaved widow."
Satyaki
laughed. "Have done with your vaunting," he interrupted. "Words
are not deeds and do not frighten fighting men. Demonstrate your valor in
action and do not indulge in dry thunder like autumn clouds."
After
this exchange of words, the battle began, and the combat was as between two
fierce lions. Their horses were killed, their bows were broken, and both were
rendered chariotless.
They
were now standing on the ground fighting with swords and shields, till their
shields were hacked to bits and their swords broken. Then they were locked in a
deadly embrace without weapons.
They
rolled together on the ground. They leaped up and they sprang on each other.
They fell down again and so the combat went on for a long while.
Partha's
mind was at the time concentrated on Jayadratha's movements and he did not
watch this combat between Satyaki and the son of Somadatta.
But
his charioteer Krishna was deeply concerned about Satyaki's fate. For Krishna
knew about their family feud.
"Dhananjaya," said Krishna,
"Satyaki is exhausted. Bhurisravas is going to kill him now."
Still
Arjuna was following only Jayadratha's movements.
"Satyaki
who came after an exhausting battle with the Kaurava forces has been forced to
accept Bhurisravas' challenge," said Krishna again. "It is a most
unequal battle. Unless we help him, beloved Yuyudhana will be slain."
Even
as Krishna was saying this, Bhurisravas lifted Satyaki up and brought him
crashing to the ground and all the men around in the Kaurava army exclaimed:
"Yuyudhana is dead!"
Again
Krishna importuned: "Satyaki is lying almost dead on the field, the best
among the Vrishni clan. One who came to help you, is being killed before your
eyes. You are looking on, doing nothing."
Bhurisravas
caught hold of the prostrate Satyaki and dragged him on the ground as a lion
drags its elephant prey.
Arjuna
was in a great conflict of mind. "Bhurisravas has not been called to
battle by me, nor has he challenged me to fight. How can I send my shaft at
Bhurisravas when he is engaged with another? My mind recoils from such an act,
although it is true a friend who came to help me is being slaughtered before my
eyes."
Just
as Arjuna finished saying this to Krishna, the sky was darkened by a cloud of
arrows sent by Jayadratha. Arjuna replied with a shower of arrows, but he
constantly turned with pain to where Satyaki was in the mortal grip of
Bhurisravas.
Krishna
again pressed Arjuna to consider Satyaki's condition. "O Partha, Satyaki
has lost all his weapons and he is now in Bhurisravas' power, helpless."
When
Arjuna turned, he saw Bhurisravas with his foot on the prostrate body of
Satyaki and sword upraised to slay him.
Before
Bhurisravas could deliver the fatal thrust, Arjuna shot an arrow which went
with the speed of lightning and the next moment the uplifted arm fell chopped
off to the ground still holding the sword. Bhurisravas, all amazed, turned and
saw who had done it.
"Son
of Kunti," he exclaimed, "I had not expected this of you! It befits
not a warrior to shoot from behind in this manner. I was engaged in combat with
someone else and you have attacked me without notice. Indeed, then, no man can
resist the evil influence of the company he keeps, as your unchivalrous conduct
proves. Dhananjaya, when you go back to your brother Dharmaputra, what account
are you going to give him of this valorous deed. Ah! Who taught you this low
trick, Arjuna? Did you learn this from your father Indra or from your teachers
Drona and Kripa? What code of conduct was it that permitted you to shoot your
arrow at a man who was engaged in combat with another and could not so much as
turn his eyes on you? You have done the deed of a low-bred fellow and foully
besmirched your honor. You must have been instigated into it by the son of
Vasudeva. It was not in your own nature to do it. No one with princely blood in
his veins would think of such a dastardly deed. I know you have been incited to
it by that contemptible Krishna."
Thus
did Bhurisravas with his right arm cut off, bitterly denounce Krishna and
Arjuna in the Kurukshetra field.
Said Partha: "Bhurisravas, you are old and
age seems to have affected your judgment. You accuse Hrishikesa and me without
cause. How could I look on doing nothing, when, before my eyes, you were in the
act of killing my friend, who came and risked his life in battle on my behalf,
one who was like a right hand to me, and whom you were going to stab when he
was lying helpless on the ground? I would have deserved to go to hell if I had
failed to intervene. You say, I have been ruined by keeping company with
Madhava. Who in the wide world would not wish to be so ruined? You have spoken
out of confused understanding. Satyaki who was weary and exhausted when he came
here and who was inadequately armed, was challenged by you to give battle. You
overcame him. Having been defeated, he lay on the ground, powerless. What code
of honor enabled you to raise your sword to thrust it into the body of the
fallen warrior and slay him? Do I not remember how you cheered the man who
killed my boy Abhimanyu when he stood staggering, exhausted and weaponless, his
coat of armor torn off?"
Bhurisravas
who heard this did not answer but spread his arrows on the ground with his left
hand and made a seat for meditation.
The
old warrior sat in yoga and the sight deeply moved all the Kaurava soldiers.
They cheered Bhurisravas and uttered reproaches against Krishna and Arjuna.
Arjuna
spoke: "Brave men, I am sworn to protect every friend within bow-shot of
me and I cannot let an enemy kill him. It is my sacred pledge. Why do you blame
me? It is not right to hurl reproaches without due thought."
After
saying this to the warriors in the field who reproached him, he turned to
Bhurisravas and said: "O excellent among brave men, you have protected
many who have gone to you for help. You know that what has happened is due to
your own error. There is no justice in blaming me. If you like, let us all
blame the violence which governs kshatriya life."
Bhurisravas,
who heard this, lowered his head in salutation.
Satyaki
now recovered consciousness and rose. Carried away by the impetuosity of his
passion, he picked up a sword and, advancing to Bhurisravas, sitting in yoga on
his seat of arrows, even when all around were shouting in horror and before
Krishna and Arjuna, who rushed to the spot, could prevent him, with one swift
and powerful cut, he struck off the old warrior's head which rolled down, while
the body was still in the posture of meditation.
The
gods and the siddhas, who looked on from above the battlefield, uttered
blessings on Bhurisravas. Everyone in the field condemned Satyaki's act.
Satyaki
maintained he was right, saying: "After I fell down senseless, this enemy
of my family placed his foot on my prostrate figure and attempted to kill me. I
may slay him in whatever posture he might choose to be." But none approved
of his conduct.
The
slaying of Bhurisravas is one of the many situations of moral conflict woven
into the story of the Mahabharata to demonstrate that, when hatred and anger
have been roused, codes of honor and dharma are powerless to control them.
"THE
decisive hour has come, Karna," said Duryodhana, "If before nightfall
this day Jayadratha is not slain, Arjuna will be disgraced and he will kill
himself, for not having redeemed his oath. With Arjuna's death, the destruction
of the Pandavas is certain and this kingdom will be ours in unquestioned and
absolute sovereignty. Dhananjaya swore this impossible oath in a moment of
thoughtlessness, because the gods had willed it that he should be thus
destroyed by his own hand. It seems my stars are now in the ascendant. We
should not let this opportunity slip. We must see somehow that his challenge
fails. The whole thing depends on you. Your great skill in battle is on trial
today. Prove yourself this day. See the sun has sloped down in the west. Within
the little time left before nightfall, I do not think it possible for Partha to
reach Jayadratha. You, Aswatthama, Salya, Kripa, and I must guard Jayadratha
and do all we can to see that he does not fall into Arjuna's hands during the
next few hours before sunset."
"My
king," Karna replied "I have been wounded all over by Bhimasena, and
am so weary that my limbs have no power in them. Still, I shall put forth all
the strength that is in me. I only live to serve you."
When
Karna and Duryodhana were thus planning, Arjuna was engaged in a great attack
on the Kaurava army and putting forth all his strength, so that before sunset
he could break through to Jayadratha.
Krishna
put his Panchajanya in his mouth and blew a loud note in the rishabha swara,
which was the signal for his own charioteer Daruka to arrive at once with his
chariot.
When
it came, Satyaki took his place in it, and attacked Karna vigorously and
skilfully, keeping him fully engaged. Daruka's mastery of driving and Satyaki's
archery were such as brought down the gods to witness the combat.
Karna's
four chariot horses were disabled and the charioteer was unseated. Then the
flagstaff was cut asunder and the chariot was smashed. The great Karna stood
chariotless and the event produced a great flutter in the Kaurava army.
Karna
had to run and climb up into Duryodhana's chariot. Sanjaya here tells
Dhritarashtra to whom he was relating the incident: "The greatest adepts
in archery are Krishna, Partha and Satyaki. There is not a fourth to match
them!"
Arjuna
broke through the Kaurava opposition and reached Jayadratha. Inflamed by the
thought of the slaughter of Abhimanyu, and all the great wrongs inflicted by
the Kauravas, Arjuna fought with fury.
Savyasachin
as he was, he discharged shafts from the Gandiva bow, now using one hand and
now the other. He struck terror and confusion among his enemies, who felt as if
Death had come to the battlefield with wide-open jaws.
It
is only the poet of the Mahabharata that can describe the combat that raged
between Arjuna and Aswatthama and the other great warriors that protected the
king of Sindhu. They fought fiercely but were all defeated and could not
prevent Arjuna from reaching Jayadratha. The attack on Jayadratha began and the
battle raged long. Both sides were constantly looking westwards, for the day
was nearing its end. The Saindhava was no mean foe, and taxed to the full,
Arjuna's strength and skill were hard put to it.
The
sun sank towards the horizon and reddened, but the battle did not cease.
"There is but a very little time left. It seems Jayadratha has been saved
and Arjuna's challenge has failed. The vow is unfulfilled and Arjuna is going
to be disgraced," said Duryodhana to himself in great glee.
Then,
there was darkness and the cry went round in both armies: "It is sunset
and Jayadratha has not been killed. Arjuna has lost." The Pandavas were
depressed and there were shouts of joy in the Kaurava army.
Jayadratha
turned to the western horizon and thought within himself, "I am
saved!" for he did not see the sun then and thought the time-limit of
danger from Arjuna was over.
At
that moment, however, Krishna said to Arjuna: "Dhananjaya, the Sindhu raja
is looking at the horizon. I have caused this darkness. The sun is still up and
has not set. Do your work. This is the moment for it, for Jayadratha is off his
guard."
A
shaft flew from the Gandiva bow, and, like a vulture swooping down on a
chicken, carried away Jayadratha's head. "Listen, Arjuna," cried
Krishna, "send your shafts in swift relays, so that the head may be
supported from falling to the earth and borne into Vriddhakshatra's lap."
And
Arjuna sent his wonderful arrows that carried away the head in the air. It was
a strange sight. Vriddhakshatra was in his ashrama sitting in the open absorbed in his evening meditation
with eyes closed, when his son's head with beautiful black hair and golden
earrings gently dropped into his lap.
The
old king finished his meditation and got up, when the head rolled down and fell
on the ground. And, as ordained, Vriddhakshatra's head burst into a hundred
fragments. Jayadratha and his father together reached the abode of the brave.
Kesava,
Dhananjaya, Bhima, Satyaki, Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas blew their conchs and
Dharmaraja who heard the triumphant noise knew that it meant that Arjuna had
redeemed his oath and that the Saindhava had been slain.
Then,
Yudhishthira led his army fiercely against Drona. It was nightfall, but on the
fourteenth day of the battle the rule of cease-fire at sunset was not observed.
As the passions rose from day to day, one by one the rules and restraints broke
down.
ALL
those who have heard the story of the Mahabharata know about Ghatotkacha,
Bhimasena's famous son by his asura wife. There are two young men among the Mahabharata
figures who embody all the qualities of heroism, fortitude, strength, courage,
and amiability. They are Arjuna's son, Abhimanyu, and Bhima's son, Ghatotkacha.
Both of them gave up their lives on the Kurukshetra battlefield.
Towards
the latter part of the Mahabharata fight, the hatred roused on both sides did
not find satisfaction in battle conducted during the daytime and close at
nightfall. On the fourteenth day, when the sunset, they did not cease fighting
but went on with it in torchlight.
The
Kurukshetra field presented a strange sight, the like of which had not been
seen before in Bharatadesa. The generals and soldiers on both sides were
engaged in battle, with thousands of torches burning and using signals
specially devised for nighttime.
Ghatotkacha
and his troops of asuras who are strongest at night, found darkness an
additional advantage and violently attacked Duryodhana's army. Duryodhana's
heart sank within him when he saw thousands of his men destroyed by Ghatotkacha
and his demon army moving in the air and attacking in weird and unexpected
ways.
"Kill
this fellow at once, Karna, for otherwise, soon our whole army will cease to
be. Finish him without further delay." Thus begged all the perplexed
Kauravas of Karna.
Karna
was himself angry and bewildered, having just been wounded by one of the
asura's arrows. He had with him no doubt the spear of unerring effect which
Indra had given to him. But it could be used only once, and he had carefully
husbanded it for exclusive use on Arjuna with whom a decisive encounter he knew
was inevitable.
But
in the confusion and wrath of that eerie midnight melee, Karna, impelled by a
sudden urge, hurled the missile at the young giant. Thus was Arjuna saved, but
at great cost. Bhima's beloved son, Ghatotkacha, who from mid-air was showering
his deadly arrows on the Kaurava army, dropped dead, plunging the Pandavas in
grief.
The
battle did not stop. Drona spread fear and destruction in the Pandava army by
his relentless attacks. "O Arjuna," said Krishna, "there is none
that can defeat this Drona, fighting according to the strict rules of war. We
cannot cope with him unless dharma is discarded. We have no other way open.
There is but one thing that will make him desist from fighting. If he hears
that Aswatthama is dead, Drona will lose all interest in life and throw down
his weapons. Someone must therefore tell Drona that Aswatthama has been
slain."
Arjuna
shrank in horror at the proposal, as he could not bring himself to tell a lie.
Those who were nearby with him also rejected the idea, for no one was minded to
be a party to deceit.
Yudhishthira
stood for a while reflecting deeply. "I shall bear the burden of this
sin," he said and resolved the deadlock!
It
was strange. But when the ocean was churned at the beginning of the world and
the dread poison rose threatening to consume the gods, did not Rudra come
forward to swallow it and save them? To save the friend who had wholly depended
on him, Rama was driven to bear the sin of killing Vali, in disregard of the
rules of fairplay. So also, now did Yudhishthira decide to bear the shame of
it, for there was no other way.
Bhima
lifted his iron mace and brought it down on the head of a huge elephant called
Aswatthama and it fell dead. After killing the elephant Aswatthama, Bhimasena
went near the division commanded by Drona and roared so that all might hear.
"I
have killed Aswatthama!" Bhimasena who, until then, had never done or even
contemplated an ignoble act, was, as he uttered these words, greatly ashamed.
They
knocked against his very heart, but could they be true? Drona heard these words
as he was in the act of discharging a Brahmastra. "Yudhishthira, is it
true my son has been slain?" Dronacharya asked addressing Dharmaputra.
The
acharya thought that Yudhishthira would not utter an untruth, even for the
kingship of the three worlds.
When
Drona asked thus, Krishna was terribly perturbed. "If Yudhishthira fails
us now and shrinks from uttering an untruth, we are lost. Drona's Brahmastra is
of unquenchable potency and the Pandavas will be destroyed," he said.
And
Yudhishthira himself stood trembling in horror of what he was about to do, but
within him also was the desire to win. "Let it be my sin," he said to
himself and hardened his heart, and said aloud: "Yes, it is true that
Aswatthama has been killed."
But,
as he was saying it, he felt again the disgrace of it and added in a low and
tremulous voice, "Aswatthama, the elephant" words which were however
drowned in the din and were not heard by Drona.
"O
king, thus was a great sin committed," said Sanjaya to the blind
Dhritarashtra, while relating the events of the battle to him.
When
the words of untruth came out of Yudhishthira's mouth, the wheels of his
chariot, which until then always stood and moved four inches above the ground
and never touched it at once came down and touched the earth.
Yudhishthira,
who till then had stood apart from the world so full of untruth, suddenly
became of the earth, earthy. He too desired victory and slipped into the way of
untruth and so his chariot came down to the common road of mankind.
When
Drona heard that his beloved son had been slain, all his attachment to life
snapped. And desire vanished as if it had never been there. When the veteran
was in that mood, Bhimasena loudly spoke indicting him in harsh words:
"You
brahmanas, abandoning the legitimate functions of your varna and taking to the
Kshatriya profession of arms, have brought ruin to princes. If you brahmanas
had not gone astray from the duties belonging to you by birth, the princes
would not have been led to this destruction. You teach that non-killing is the
highest dharma and that the brahmana is the supporter and nourisher of that
dharma. Yet, you have rejected that wisdom which is yours by birth, and shamelessly
undertaken the profession of killing. It was our misfortune that you descended
to this sinful life."
These
taunts of Bhimasena caused excruciating pain to Drona who had already lost the
will to live. He threw his weapons away and sat down in yoga on the floor of
his chariot and was soon in a trance.
At this moment Dhrishtadyumna with drawn sword,
came and climbed in to the chariot and heedless of cries of horror and
deprecation from all around he fulfilled his destiny as the slayer of Drona by sweeping
off the old warrior's head. And the soul of the son of Bharadwaja issued out in
a visible blaze of fight and mounted heavenwards.
The
Mahabharata is a great and wonderful story. The sorrows of human life are
painted with sublime beauty and rolled out in a grand panorama. Behind the story of errors and sorrows
the poet enables us to have a vision of the Transcendent Reality. Thus it is
that the Mahabharata, though a story, has come to be a book of dharma. This
book, in style and substance, is altogether different from tales and romances.
In modern novels, dramas and pictures, exciting scenes are enacted, the hero
passes through dangers and difficulties and finally marries a woman whom he
loves. Or else everything seems to go on happily but suddenly things go wrong
and terrible misfortune happens and the curtain drops. This is the art scheme
of ordinary sensational stories. The Ramayana and the Mahabharata are quite a
different kind of artistic creation. When we read them, our inner being is
seized and cleansed, so to say, by being passed alternately through joys and
sorrows, and we are finally lifted above both and taken to the Transcendent and
Real.
WHEN
Drona died, the princes of the Kaurava army installed Karna as Generalissimo.
Karna stood up in his gorgeous war chariot driven by Salya. The dauntless
confidence of his bearing and his great renown as a warrior heartened the
Kauravas. The battle again began. Readers of the stars were consulted and the
Pandavas chose the propitious hour for grim battle. Arjuna led the attack on
Karna, supported by Bhimasena immediately behind his chariot.
Duhsasana
made a concentrated attack on Bhima and sent a shower of arrows at him. Bhima
chuckled and said to himself. "I have this wretch now safe in my hands. I
shall today redeem my promise to Draupadi. Too long has my oath waited for
performance."
As
Bhima thus bethought himself of what Duhsasana had done to Draupadi, the anger
within him blazed up uncontrollably and throwing down all his weapons, he
jumped from his chariot and leapt upon Duhsasana like a tiger on its prey,
hurled him down and broke his limbs.
"Wicked
beast, is this the wretched hand that held Draupadi by the hair? Here, I tear
out the root from your body. If there be any here wishing to help you, let him
come forward and try!"
Glaring
hatefully at Duryodhana as he roared
this challenge, Bhimasena tore Duhsasana's arm out and threw the bleeding limb
on the battlefield.
And
then he fulfilled the terrible oath he had taken thirteen years before. He
sucked and drank the blood from his enemy's body like a beast of prey and
danced on the bloody field, mad with passion. "I have done it!" he
roared. "The oath I swore against this great sinner has been redeemed. It
only remains to redeem my oath as regards Duryodhana. The sacrificial fire is
ready. Let that victim also prepare."
The
scene made everyone shudder. Even great Karna was shaken as he saw Bhima in
this ecstasy of wrath. "Do not flinch," said Salya to Karna. "It
does not befit you to show any sign that may be mistaken for fear. When
Duryodhana stands quivering in despair; it is not right that you also should
lose heart. After the great Duhsasana's death, the army's hope rests solely on
you. You must now bear the full burden. Like the gallant warrior you are, seek
single combat with Arjuna, and win eternal glory on earth or the soldier's
heaven!" At these words, Karna recovered his courageous spirit. With eyes
red with wrath and unshed tears, he bade Salya drive the chariot towards
Arjuna.
"Enough
of fighting," said Aswatthama addressing Duryodhana earnestly. "Let
us terminate this disastrous enmity. Beloved friend, make peace with the
Pandavas. Stop the battle."
"What?
Did you not hear the words that the stubborn Bhima uttered when like a ravening
beast, he drank human blood and danced over my brother's mangled body? What
talk can there be now of peace? Why do you speak vain words!" said
Duryodhana. Saying thus, he ordered a fresh disposition of the forces, and gave
the command for attack.
Then
followed a great battle. The son of Surya sent a dazzling arrow, which spat
fire and made for Arjuna, like a serpent with its flaming double-tongue out.
Then Krishna, Arjuna's charioteer, at the nick of time, pressed the vehicle
down five fingers deep in the mud, so that the serpent shaft just missed
Partha's head but struck off his helmet! Arjuna was red with shame and anger
and he fixed a dart on his bow to make an end of Karna.
And
Karna's fated hour was come, and as had been foretold, the left wheel of his
chariot suddenly sank in the bloody mire. He jumped down on the ground to lift
the wheel up from the mud.
"Wait
a minute!" he cried. "My chariot has sunk in the ground. Great
warrior as you are, and knowing dharma as you do, you would certainly not take
unfair advantage of this accident. I shall presently set my car right and give
you all the battle you want."
Arjuna
hesitated. Karna was now somewhat perturbed on account of the mishap. He
remembered the curse that had been pronounced on him, and again appealed to
Arjuna's sense of honor.
Krishna
intervened. "Ha, Karna!" be exclaimed, "it is well that you too
remember that there are things like fairplay and chivalry! Now that you are in
difficulty, you remember them indeed. But when you and Duryodhana and Duhsasana
and Sakuni dragged Draupadi to the Hall of Assembly and insulted her, how was
it you forgot them utterly? You helped to inveigle Dharmaputra, who was fond of
play but was unskilled at it, to gamble, and you cheated him. Where had your
fairplay hidden itself then? Was it fairplay to refuse to give to Yudhishthira
his kingdom when according to the pledge the twelve years of forest life and
the thirteenth year incognito were duly completed? What had happened to the
dharma you appeal for now? You conspired with the wicked men who sought to
poison and kill Bhima. You acquiesced in the plot to burn the Pandavas alive
when sleeping in the palace of wax into which they had been lured. What had
happened to dharma all that time? What did dharma tell you when violent hands
were laid on Draupadi and you were looking on enjoying the sight? Did you not
then mock at her saying: 'Your husbands have left you unprotected, go and marry
another husband'? The tongue that was not ashamed to utter those words now
talks of chivalry. Chivalry indeed! When a mob of you surrounded the young
Abhimanyu and shamelessly slew him, was that chivalry? Wicked man, do not talk
now of chivalry and fairplay, for you have never honored them!"
When
Krishna was denouncing him in this manner in order to urge Arjuna to prompt
action, Karna bent his head in shame and uttered not a word. Karna silently ascended the chariot leaving the wheel still stuck in the mud and took his
bow and sent an arrow at Arjuna with unerring aim and such power that it stunned him for a moment.
Karna
utilised the respite won, to jump down again and hurriedly tried to lift the
chariot wheel up. But the curse was too strong for him and fortune had deserted
the great warrior.
The
wheel would not budge, though he strove with all his great strength. Then he
tried to recall the mantras of mighty astras he had learnt from Parasurama, but
his memory failed in the hour of his need, even as Parasurama had foretold.
"Waste
no more time, Arjuna," cried Madhava. "Send your shaft and slay your
wicked enemy."
Arjuna's
mind was wavering. His hand hesitated to do what was not chivalrous. But when
Krishna said this, the poet says: "Arjuna accepted this command of the
Lord and sent an arrow which cut and severed the head of the Radheya."
The
poet had not the heart to impute this act to Arjuna who was the embodiment of
nobility. It was the Lord Krishna that incited Arjuna to kill Karna when he was
vainly trying to raise his chariot out of the mud in which it had stuck.
According to the code of honor and laws of war prevailing then, it was wholly
wrong. Who could bear the responsibility for breaches of dharma except the Lord
Himself? The lesson is that it is vanity
to hope, through physical violence and war, to put down wrong. The battle for
right, conducted through physical force leads to numerous wrongs and, in the
net result, adharma increases.
WHEN
Duryodhana beheld Karna's death, his grief knew no bounds. Kripacharya was
deeply moved by Duryodhana's anguish of heart and said: "Moved by ambition
and greed we placed too great a burden on friends. They have uncomplainingly
borne it and laid down their lives
on the battlefield and attained the happy regions above. There is but one
course left to you to make peace with the Pandavas. Do not, O King, any longer
continue this ruinous fight."
Even at that moment of deep despair,
Duryodhana did not relish this counsel. "Perhaps, there was a time for
that, but it is long past. What talk can there be of peace between the Pandavas
and us with all this inexpiable blood between us, the blood of our dearest and
theirs? If I surrender in order to escape death, how can I escape the contempt
of the world? What happiness can I hope to have in a life so ignobly saved? And
what joy can I hope to find in sovereignty, secured by a peace after my
brothers and relatives have all been slain?"
These
words of Duryodhana were lustily cheered by the others. They supported his
stand and they chose Salya and gave him the supreme command from then on. Salya
was mighty of limb and as brave as any of the warriors who had been killed. The
army was arrayed under his leadership and the battle raged fiercely. On the
side of the Pandavas, Yudhishthira now led the attack personally against Salya.
It astonished everyone to see how the man, who was till then the very
incarnation of gentle ness, fought so furiously.
The
battle was equal for a long while, when Yudhishthira hurled at Salya, his spear
that went straight and struck him. Like the great flagstaff at the end of a
festive function, Salya's body lay lifeless on the field, crimson with blood.
When
Salya, the last of the great generals, fell dead, the Kaurava army lost all
hope. The surviving sons of Dhritarashtra, however, joined together and
attacked Bhima from all sides. He slew them all. The son of Vayu had nourished
his burning anger for thirteen years from the time Draupadi was insulted in the
Hall of Assembly. He said to himself now: "I have not lived in vain, but
Duryodhana still lives," and smiled grimly.
Sakuni
led the attack on Sahadeva's division. After a while, Sahadeva discharged a
sharp-edged sword-arrow saying: "Fool, here is the reward for your great
sin." It went straight and cut through Sakuni's neck like a sword. And the
head, which was at the root of all the wicked deeds of the Kauravas, rolled on
the ground.
Left
leaderless, the wreck of the broken army scattered and fled in all directions,
pursued and slaughtered to a man by the exulting victors.
"'Thus
utterly was destroyed thine army of eleven Akshauhinis, O! Bharata, out of the
thousands of kings, who espoused thy cause in their pride and might, only
Duryodhana could be seen on that battlefield, fainting and sore wounded,"
said Sanjaya, describing the debacle to the blind king.
After
doing, in vain, all he could to rally his defeated army, Duryodhana, left
almost alone, took up his mace and walked towards a pool of water. His whole
frame was burning like fire, and water attracted him. "The wise Vidura
knew what would happen and he told us," he said to himself, as he entered
the water.
Of
what avail is wisdom that comes too late? What has been done must produce its
result that has to be suffered. That is the law. Yudhishthira and his brothers
arrived there in relentless, pursuit of their great enemy.
"Duryodhana!"
exclaimed Yudhishthira, "after destroying family and tribe, would you
yourself escape death by concealing yourself in this pond? Where is your pride
now? Have you no shame? Come up and fight. A kshatriya by birth, do you shrink
battle and death?"
Stung
to the quick by these words, Duryodhana replied with dignity: "I have not
come here, Dharmaputra, a fugitive for my life. It was not fear that brought me
here. I stepped into the water to cool the fire that is raging within me. I
neither fear death nor wish to live, but why should I fight? The earth has now
nothing left that I came to fight for! All those who stood by me have been
slain. My desire for kingdom is gone. I leave the world to you without a rival.
Enjoy it in undisputed sovereignty."
Yudhishthira
replied: "Now, that is really generous, especially after you said you
would not allow us even a needle-point of land. When we begged for peace and
entreated you to give us a portion, you spurned our proposal. Now, you say we
may take it all. It is not for kingdom or land that we fight. Must I recount
all your sins? The wrongs you did us, and the outrage you perpetrated on
Draupadi, cannot be expiated except with your life."
Sanjaya,
who related the events to the blind old king, here said: "When your son
Duryodhana heard these harsh and cruel words spoken by Dharmaputra, he at once
rose from the water, mace in hand."
Stepping
out of the pool, the unfortunate Duryodhana said: "Come, one by one, all
of you, for I am single. You five will surely not join together and attack me
who am alone and without armor, weary and wounded all over."
Yudhishthira
replied sharply: "If indeed it be wrong for many to join together and
attack a single person, pray tell us how
Abhimanyu was attacked and killed? Did you not consent to many combining and
attacking that boy, standing all alone amidst your crowd? Yes, when men face
misfortune, they see and preach dharma and chivalry to others. Wear your coat
of armor. Choose any of us you like and fight. Die and go to swarga or win and
be king."
Accordingly,
the combat began between Bhima and Duryodhana. Sparks of fire flew when their
maces clashed. Duryodhana and Bhima were equal in strength and skill, and the
battle raged long, and the issue hung doubtful. Those, who stood watching, were
debating as to whom would win. Krishna said to Arjuna that Bhima would redeem
the oath he swore in the Hall of Assembly and smash Duryodhana's thighs. Bhima
heard this and, at that moment, the memory of the great outrage came vividly to
his mind.
He
leaped like a lion and came down with his mace on Duryodhana's thighs and broke
them and Duryodhana fell heavily on the ground, wounded to death.
Bhima
jumped on the prostrate body of his enemy, stamped on his head with his heavy
foot and danced a terrible dance.
"Cease,
Bhima," cried Dharmaraja. "You have paid off the debt. Duryodhana is
a prince and a cousin. It is not right to put your foot on his head."
Said
Krishna:"Soon the wicked man's soul will depart from the body. Sons of
Pandu, Duryodhana and his friends have been slain. Why linger here? On to your
chariots."
When
Krishna said this, the face of the fallen Duryodhana glowed like a blazing fire
with anger and hatred. Turning his eyes towards Krishna be said:
"By
base tricks you contrived the death of warriors, who fought bravely according
to the laws of war. You could not have dreamt of victory in a fair fight with
Karna or Bhishma or Drona. Have you not a spark of shame left?"
Even
dying, Duryodhana felt no regret for all that he had done.
"Duryodhana,"
said Krishna, "vainly do you accuse others. Greed and pride of power led
you to unnumbered wicked deeds and you are reaping as you sowed."
"Wretch!"
replied Duryodhana. "Living, I was a great prince, generous friend, and a
terrible foe. All human joys, such joys as kings wish for in vain, and even
Gods do not despise, have been mine, in their fullness. A warrior's death is
the fitting crown of such a life. Dying, I go triumphantly to swarga to join my
friends and my brothers who have gone there already and are waiting to welcome
me. You remain here below, your objects defeated and yourselves the object of
contempt of all kshatriyas. I do not mind Bhima putting his foot on my head as
I lie helpless on the ground with legs broken. What care I? In a few minutes
more will not the feet of crows and vultures settle on my head?"
When
Duryodhana said this, flowers were showered down from the heavens by the gods.
Inordinate desire took Duryodhana into the wrong path, whence ensued anger and
numerous breaches of dharma. But no one could question the unconquerable spirit
of Dhritarashtra's son.
WHEN
the war was nearing its end, Balarama arrived at Kurukshetra after completing
his tour of holy places. He came just when Bhima and Duryodhana were engaged in
their last mortal combat. He saw Bhima aiming the deadly blow which broke
Duryodhana's thighs, and his anger flamed up at this great breach of the rules
of single combat.
"Fie
upon you all! Would any kshatriya hit below the navel? This Bhima has offended
the law most disgracefully," he exclaimed and impatiently going up to his
brother Krishna, shouted:
"You
can look on and tolerate all this. But I cannot bear to see such unclean
fighting!" Saying this he advanced towards the offending Bhima with
upraised plough. The plough was Balarama's weapon on supreme occasions, as the
discus was Krishna's. Krishna was alarmed when he saw his elder brother
advancing in a passion towards Bhima.
He
rushed forward and, intercepting him, said: "The Pandavas are our friends
and closest relations. They have been the victims of insufferable wrongs at the
hands of Duryodhana. When Draupadi was insulted in the Assembly Hall, Bhima
vowed: 'I will one day in battle break the two thighs of Duryodhana with this
mace and kill him.' He proclaimed this solemn oath at that time and everyone
has known it. It is the duty of a kshatriya to fulfil the vow he has solemnly
taken. Do not let your anger mislead you and do not be unjust to the innocent
Pandavas. You should, before condemning Bhima, take into account all the wrongs
that the Kauravas have done to the Pandavas. Nothing but error can result if
one proceeds to judge conduct without taking into account the chain of events
leading up to it. You cannot snatch a particular act out of its context and
proceed to give judgment on it alone without gross injustice. The era of Kali
has arrived, when the laws of a previous age cannot apply. It was not wrong for
Bhima to strike below the navel an enemy who had wickedly contrived against his
life on many occasions. It was because of Duryodhana's foul instigation that
Karna sent a shaft from behind and broke Abhimanyu's bowstring when he was
defending himself against heavy odds. Arjuna's young son was attacked by
numerous warriors who surrounded him, when he stood all by himself in the
field, deprived of bow and chariot, and in a most cowardly manner, killed him.
Duryodhana thought evil and practised deception from the time of his birth and
has brought about the destruction of his people. There is no sin in Bhima
killing this man. Bhima bore the wrongs done and kept his wrath within himself
for thirteen long years. Duryodhana knew well that Bhima had sworn to break his
thighs and kill him. When he challenged the aggrieved Pandavas to battle, he
knew very well that he invited Bhima to make good his oath. How can you think
that it was wrong for Bhima to do this?"
Krishna's
words did not change Balarama's opinion, but his anger subsided.
"Duryodhana will attain the happy regions reserved for the brave. Bhima's
fame has been tarnished for all time. It will be said among men that the son of
Pandu broke the laws of war in attacking Duryodhana. It will remain forever a
great blot on his good name. I hate to stay here any longer." So saying
the indignant Balarama immediately left for Dwaraka.
"Yudhishthira,
why this strange silence?" asked Krishna.
"O
Madhava, it hurts me to see Bhima leap on cousin Duryodhana's mortally wounded
body and trample on his head. I see the end of the glory of our race. We were
wronged by the Kauravas. I know the full measure of grief and anger in
Vrikodara's heart, and don't wish to blame him beyond reason. We have killed
Duryodhana, who was afflicted by uncontained greed and poverty of
understanding. What serves it now to debate
the ethics of it or nicely to weigh the propriety of a much wronged man's
revenges?"
Yudhishthira
was greatly oppressed in mind. When
men transgress the law, extenuations
and excuses are of no avail in giving mental satisfaction.
Arjuna,
of penetrating intellect, was silent. He did not show approval of Bhima's act.
Nor did he say anything by way of detraction. The rest of the people, who were
there, were however loud in condemnation of Duryodhana and were reminding one
another of all his misdeeds and errors. Krishna turned towards them and said:
"Warriors,
it is not proper that we go on speaking against an enemy who has been defeated
and is lying mortally wounded. We should not speak ill of a dying man. He was
stupid and brought about his own end. He fell into the company of bad men and
was ruined. Let us go."
Duryodhana,
who was stretched on the ground in intense, agony, when he heard Krishna say
this, went into a paroxysm of rage. He half raised himself on his arms in spite
of the excruciating pain, and exclaimed:
"Wretch!
Son of a slave! Was not your father Vasudeva Kamsa's slave? You have no
business to sit or move with princes. You speak like a shameless wretch. I saw
you instigate Bhima to aim his blow at my thigh! Do you think I did not see
you, making as though casually talking to Arjuna, pointing to your thigh, but
really indicating to Bhima that he should strike me on the thighs, disregarding
the laws of single combat? Till then it had been equal battle. You have neither
pity nor shame. Did you not contrive the death of the grandsire Bhishma through
stratagem? You advised Sikhandin to be placed in front when attacking Bhishma,
knowing that the grandsire would scorn to fight a woman, and would let himself
be mortally wounded without resistance. You brought about the end of
Dronacharya through making Dharmaputra utter a falsehood. You were the father of
that deadly lie that issued from Yudhishthira's mouth, and made Dronacharya
throw his bow away. Did you not look on without protest, and rejoice, when
that, wretch Dhrishtadyumna attacked and killed the acharya who had stopped
fighting, throwing away his weapons, and settled down in yoga posture for
meditation on the Supreme? Was it not you who wickedly contrived to make Karna
hurl the fatal spear at Ghatotkacha instead of reserving it for Arjuna as he
had all along resolved to do? O great sinner, surely it was you who instigated
Satyaki to butcher Bhurisravas when his right arm had been foully cut off and
he stopped fighting and spread his arrows for a seat for holy meditation. It
was you who brought about the death of Karna by inducing Arjuna to attack him
in a cowardly manner when he was engaged in lifting his chariot wheel which had
sunk and stuck in the mud in the
field of battle. Oh worthless man, sole cause of our destruction, the whole
world has condemned your act when by sorcery you made it appear as if the sun
had set. You made Jayadratha, the
Sindhu king, believe that the day was over and he was past danger, and thus he
was slain when he was off his guard."
Thus
did Duryodhana pour his denunciation against Krishna and then, exhausted by the
pain of his wounds and the violence of his rage, he fell prostrate again.
"Son
of Gandhari," said Krishna, "why do you let your anger add to the
pain of your last moments? It is your own misdeeds that have brought about your
end. Do not attribute it to me. Bhishma and Drona had to die on account of your
sins. So also were you the cause of the death of Karna and others. Need I
recount all the wrongs that you were guilty of against the sons of Pandu? What
punishment can be too severe for the great outrage, which you inflicted on
Draupadi? The animosities and passions that resulted from your misdeeds cannot
be made ground for condemning others. All the deceptions and lapses you charge
us with were forced on us by reason of your wicked conduct. You have paid off
on the battlefield the debt incurred by your greed. But you are dying the death
of a brave man. You will go to the happy regions reserved for kshatriyas who
lay down their lives on the field of battle."
"Krishna,
I go to swarga with my friends and relatives. But you and your friends will
live on earth to suffer," said the stubborn Duryodhana. "I studied
the Vedas. I have given gifts ordained by law and I have reigned supreme over
all the sea-girt earth. While I lived, I stood upon the humbled heads of foes.
All human joys, such joys as even the Gods cannot despise and kings sigh for in
vain, the very pinnacle of power, were mine. Dying now, such death as warriors
deem the crown of kshatriya life, I go to meet in heaven my friends and
brothers gone before, eager to welcome me. Who is more blest, I, or you who,
doomed to linger here, mourning for slaughtered friends in desolate homes, find
the long sought triumph but ashes in your mouth?" said Duryodhana. And the
gods showered flowers down on the dying warrior and the gandharvas played music
and the sky was illuminated. Vasudeva and the Pandavas felt small.
"There
is truth," said Krishna, "in what Duryodhana said. You could not have
defeated him by fair means. This wicked man was invincible in battle."
WHEN
Aswatthama heard how Duryodhana lay mortally injured, and learnt the details of
the combat, his righteous anger swelled like the sea. The deception, practised
by the Pandavas in order to bring about his father's end, had been rankling in
his mind.
Now,
when he learnt how Duryodhana had been stricken down mortally against all rules
of chivalry, he went to the spot where Duryodhana was lying and there took an
oath that he would that night send the Pandavas to the abode of Yama.
Duryodhana,
who was in the last physical agony of departing life, was transported with joy
when he heard Aswatthama take this oath. He immediately ordered those who stood
nearby to install Aswatthama as Supreme Commander of the Army with due ceremony
and, when that was over, said to Him: "All my hopes are in you."
It
was sunset and the forest was in utter darkness when under a big banian tree
Kripacharya, Kritavarma and Aswatthama halted for rest. They were so greatly
fatigued that Kripacharya and Kritavarma fell fast asleep as soon as they lay
down.
But
Aswatthama did not get sleep, for sorrow, indignation and hatred burnt within
him. He was listening to the noises that the nocturnal birds and prowling
beasts began to make as the night advanced. He was turning over in his mind how
to execute his promise to Duryodhana.
On
the branches of the banian tree, under which the three warriors were resting,
hundreds of crows roosted. They were all quiet and asleep until a big owl came
and began to attack the birds one after another and kill them. When Aswatthama
saw the nocturnal bird of prey tear the helpless crows, he got an idea. The
crows that could not see at night flew round and round helplessly and fell
victims to the owl that attacked them violently.
"These
wicked Pandavas and the Panchala that killed my father and all their supporters
can easily be killed by us, if we surprise them when they are sleeping in their
tents at night even as this owl is attacking these blind crows. Thus can I
avenge the deeds of foul play they have practised on us. I am deeply indebted
to this bird of prey from whom I have received the teaching. There is no
offence in adopting plans to suit one's altered circumstances. If we can
lawfully attack an enemy, when his army is tired or when his forces are scattered,
why then should not we, who have lost our armies, attack our enemies when they
are asleep? There can be nothing wrong in it. Indeed it is only thus that we
can punish and defeat these Pandavas who have achieved successes through foul
play. We have no other course
open."
Aswatthama
made up his mind and he immediately woke up Kripacharya and informed him of his
plan. Kripacharya, who heard it, was astonished.
"This
can never be," said he. "It is wholly wrong. To attack men who have
retired to sleep, has never been done before. It would be an unprecedented
crime against the laws of kshatriya conduct. Aswatthama, for whom are we
fighting? The man for whose sake we joined in this war has been fatally wounded
and his end has arrived. We have discharged our obligations most loyally. We
fought our best for the greedy and wrongheaded Duryodhana but we failed
irretrievably. There is no purpose now in our continuing the fight and it is
folly to do so. Let us go to Dhritarashtra and the faultless Gandhari, and place
ourselves at their disposal. Let us take counsel of wise Vidura also. They will
tell us what lies before us to do."
When
Kripacharya spoke thus, Aswatthama's grief and indignation increased and he
spoke bitterly:
"Everyone
feels sure that what he thinks is the only right and proper thing to do. One's
understanding naturally limits one's vision. These Pandavas have been guilty of
the foulest conduct. They killed my noble and trustful father through a lie.
They have killed Duryodhana against the laws of chivalry. I have no doubt in my
mind that what I propose to do is quite proper vengeance for all these foul
deeds. It is only if I carry out this plan that I can possibly repay my debt to
my king and to my father. I have decided on it and I do not propose to alter my plan. I am going tonight to the
tents where they are sleeping having cast
off their armor and there I will kill the Pandavas and Dhrishtadyumna while they are asleep."
Kripacharya
was deeply grieved to hear Aswatthama speak thus: "You have attained a
great name among men," he pleaded, "Your spotless character will by
this be blemished, even like a milk-white cloth bespattered with blood. Never
could it be right to kill sleeping men. Desist from this."
"Sir,
what are you talking? These Pandavas butchered my father when he had thrown
away all his weapons and had sat down in prayer. These men have breached the
embankment of dharma and released the flood, and not a, drop of dharma is now
left! Karna, who was on the ground putting right the wheel of his chariot, was
murdered by these lawless rascals. Bhima has killed Duryodhana with a blow
below the navel. What dharma has been left for us to follow? The Pandavas have,
once for all, destroyed the wall of dharma. Why should we make research into
law and chivalry when dealing with these ruffians who have attained successes
by destroying both? If by killing the sleeping Panchalas, who butchered my
great father, I may be doomed to rebirth in the body of a foul bird or of a
wriggling worm, I do not care. I seek such a birth!"
Saying
this and, without waiting for an answer, Aswatthama proceeded to harness his
horses and get his chariot ready to start. When he was about to leave
Kripacharya and Kritavarma cried: "Stop. What are you resolved upon doing,
Aswatthama? We cannot approve of it, but neither can we desert you in your
desperate enterprise. The path you are bent on treading, we shall also follow.
The sin you are resolved upon, let us share also." So, they went along
with him. Thus does evil grow! One transgression begets the next and thus evil
grows from evil submerging righteousness. Evil flourishes on retaliation.
They
reached the Pandava camp. Dhrishtadyumna had doffed his armor and was plunged
in deep slumber in his tent. Aswatthama leapt on the sleeping warrior and, before
he could put himself into a posture of defence, cruelly kicked him to death.
The
same process was relentlessly repeated until all the Panchalas and all the sons
of Draupadi were killed one by one when they were plunged in sleep in their
tents.
After
having done this deed, the like of which had never before been considered
possible among kshatriyas, Kripacharya, Kritavarma and Aswatthama came out of
the tents and set fire to the camp. When the fire spread, the sleeping soldiers
were awakened and fled hither and thither in confusion, even like the crows on
the banian tree under which they had rested in the forest, and they were
mercilessly slaughtered by Aswatthama.
"We
have done our duty," said Dronacharya's son. "Let us go and give the
glad news to Duryodhana, if we can reach him, before he expires. Let him die
pleased."
The
three of them accordingly hurried to Duryodhana.
"O,
DURYODHANA, you are yet alive, hear the news and rejoice! All the Panchalas
have been slaughtered. The sons of the Pandavas have also been all done to
death. The entire army of theirs has been destroyed. We made a night attack on
them when they were asleep. There are only seven survivors now on the Pandava
side. On our side, Kripacharya, Kritavarma and I remain."
Thus
said Aswatthama to the dying Duryodhana who, on hearing this, slowly opened his
eyes and, with struggling breath, gasped out these words:
"Aswatthama,
you have indeed done for me what neither the great Bhishma nor the valiant
Karna could achieve! You have gladdened my heart and I die happy." Saying
this, Duryodhana expired.
When
he saw the unexpected destruction of his army as a result of the attack during
sleep, Yudhishthira gave way to grief and broke down:
"At
the very moment of victory, we have been totally defeated. The vanquished have
indeed triumphed. Draupadi's children, who survived the onslaught of the
formidable Karna, have, by our unwariness, been crushed and destroyed like
vermin. We have allowed ourselves to be destroyed like a merchant ship which,
having successfully crossed the big seas, returns home but capsizes in a ditch
and is lost."
Draupadi
was overwhelmed by inconsolable grief. She came to Dharmaputra's side and wept.
"Is there no one to avenge my children's slaughter, by destroying this
great sinner Aswatthama?" she cried.
When
she said this, the Pandavas immediately went out in search of the murderer.
They looked for him in all sorts of places and found him, at last, on the bank
of the Ganga, hiding himself behind Vyasa.
When
he saw the Pandavas and Janardana approaching, Aswatthama quietly took up a
blade of grass and charged it with the mantra of destruction and sent it
forward saying: "May this destroy the race of the Pandavas." And it
went straight to the womb of Uttara who bore in her the son of Abhimanyu.
The
race of the Pandavas would have been destroyed thereby but for the intervention
of Sri Krishna who saved the child in the mother's womb. This child was
Parikshit who was later crowned by Yudhishthira when the Pandavas retired to
the forest.
Aswatthama
pried out the shining jewel that was part of his head and gave it to Bhima,
acknowledging his defeat, and went away to the forest. Bhima took the great
jewel and, going to Draupadi said: "Angel of spotless purity, this is for
you. The man, who killed your beloved sons, has been vanquished. Duryodhana has
been destroyed. I have drunk the blood of Duhsasana. I have avenged the great
outrage and discharged my debts."
Draupadi
took the jewel and, going up to Yudhishthira bowed and said: "Faultless
king, it befits you to wear this in your crown."
WHEN
the battle was over, Hastinapura was a city of mourning. All the women and
children were weeping and lamenting their slain, nearest and dearest. With many
thousands of bereaved women accompanying, Dhritarashtra went to the field of
battle. At Kurukshetra, the scene of terrible destruction, the blind king
thought of all that had passed, and wept aloud. But, of what avail was weeping?
"O king, words of consolation
addressed to a bereaved person do not remove his grief. Thousands of rulers
have given up their lives in battle for your sons. It is now time that you
should arrange for proper funeral ceremonies for the dead," said Sanjaya
to Dhritarashtra.
"It
is not right to grieve for those who die in battle. When souls have left their
bodies, there is nothing like relationship, nothing like brother or son or
relative. Your sons have really no connection with you. Relationship ends with
death, being only a bodily connection and a mere minor incident in the soul's eternal life. From the nowhere
do lives come, and, with death, they
again disappear into nowhere. Why should we weep for them? Those who die in
battle after a heroic fight go as guests to receive Indra's hospitality.
Grieving for what is past, you cannot gain anything in the nature of dharma,
pleasure or wealth." Thus, and in many more ways, did the wise and good
Vidura try to assuage the king's grief.
Vyasa
also approached Dhritarashtra tenderly and said: "Dear son, there is
nothing that you do not know and which you have to learn from me. You know very
well that all living beings must die. This great battle came to reduce earth's
burden as I have heard from Lord Vishnu Himself. That is why this calamity
could not be prevented. Henceforth, Yudhishthira is your son. You should try to
love him and in that way bear the burden of life, giving up grief."
Making
his way, through the crowd of weeping women Yudhishthira approached Dhritarashtra
and bowed before him. Dhritarashtra embraced Yudhishthira, but there was no
love in that embrace.
Then
Bhimasena was announced to the blind king. "Come," said
Dhritarashtra.
But
Vasudeva was wise. He gently pushed Bhima aside and placed an iron figure
before the blind Dhritarashtra, knowing the old king's exceeding anger.
Dhritarashtra hugged the metal statue to his bosom in a firm embrace and then
the thought came to him of how this man had killed everyone of his sons. And
his wrath increased to such a pitch that the image was crushed to pieces in his
embrace.
"Ha!
My anger has deceived me," cried Dhritarashtra. "I have killed dear
Bhima."
Then
Krishna said to the blind king:
"Lord,
I knew that it would be thus and I prevented the disaster. You have not killed
Bhimasena. You have crushed only an iron image that I placed instead before
you. May your anger be appeased with what you have done to this image. Bhima is
still alive."
The
king was composed somewhat and he blessed Bhima and the other Pandavas who then
took leave of him and went to Gandhari.
Vyasa
was with Gandhari. "Oh queen,"said the rishi, "be not angry with
the Pandavas. Did you not tell them even when the battle began: 'Where there is
dharma, there surely will be victory'? And so it has happened. It is not right
to let the mind dwell on what is past and nurse one's anger. You must now call
to aid your great fortitude."
Gandhari
said: "Bhagavan, I do not envy the victory of the Pandavas. It is true
that grief for the death of my sons has robbed me of my understanding. These
Pandavas also are my sons. I know that Duhsasana and Sakuni brought about this
destruction of our people. Arjuna and Bhima are blameless. Pride brought this
battle about and my sons deserve the fate they have met. I do not complain
about it. But then, in Vasudeva's presence, Bhima called Duryodhana to battle
and they fought. And, knowing that Duryodhana was stronger and could not be defeated in single combat, Bhima
struck him below the navel and killed him. Vasudeva was looking on. This was
wrong and it is this that I find it impossible to forgive."
Bhima,
who heard this, came near and said: "Mother, I did this to save myself in
battle. Whether it was right or wrong, you should bear with me. Your son was
invincible in combat and so I did in self-protection what was undoubtedly
wrong. He called Yudhishthira to play and deceived him. We had been wronged by
your son in so many ways. He would not give back the kingdom, of which be took
unlawful possession. And you know what your son did to blameless Draupadi. If
we had killed your son on the spot, when he misbehaved in the Hall of Assembly,
surely you would not have blamed us. Bound by Dharmaraja's vow, we restrained
ourselves with difficulty then. We have since discharged honor's debt and found
satisfaction in battle. Mother, you should forgive me."
"Dear
son, if you had left but one out of my hundred sons and killed all the rest and
satisfied your anger, I and my old husband would have found solace in that
surviving son for the rest of our lives. Where is Dharmaputra? Call him."
She said.
Hearing
this, Yudhishthira trembled as he, with clasped hands, approached Gandhari,
whose eyes were bound in a cloth in loyal lifelong penance for her husband's
blindness. He bowed low before her and said softly:
"Queen,
the cruel Yudhishthira, who killed your sons, stands before you fit to be
cursed. Do curse me who have committed great sin. I care not for life or for
kingdom." Saying this, he fell on the ground and touched her feet.
Gandhari
heaved a deep sigh and stood mute. She turned her head aside knowing that if,
through the cloth with which her eyes were bound, her vision fell on the
prostrate Yudhishthira he would be reduced to ashes on the spot. But through a
little space in the cloth, even as she turned her face away, her eyes fell on
the toe of the prostrate Yudhishthira. At once, says the poet, the toe was
charred black.
Arjuna
knew the power of bereaved Gandhari's wrath, and hid himself behind Vasudeva.
The wise and good Gandhari suppressed all her anger and blessed the Pandavas
and sent them to Kunti.
Gandhari
turned to Draupadi, who was in lamentation, having lost all her sons.
"Dear girl," said Gandhari. "Do not grieve. Who can give solace
to you and me? It is through my fault that this great tribe has been destroyed
altogether."
THE
Pandavas performed the til and water ceremonies for the peace of the souls of
the dead warriors and camped on the bank of the Ganga for a month.
One
day, Narada appeared before Yudhishthira. "Son, through Krishna's grace,
the valor of Arjuna and the power of your dharma, you were victorious and you
are the sovereign lord of the land. Are you happy?" he asked.
Yudhishthira
replied: "Bhagavan, it is true the kingdom has come into my possession.
But my kinsmen are all gone. We have lost sons that were dear. This victory
appears to me but a great defeat. O Narada, we took our own brother for an
enemy and killed him, even Karna who stood rooted like a rock in his honor and
at whose valor the world wondered. This terrible act of slaying our own
brothers was the result of our sinful attachment to our possessions. Karna, on
the other hand, kept the promise he gave to our mother and abstained from
killing us. Oh! I am a sinner, a low fellow who murdered his own brother. My
mind is troubled greatly at this thought. Karna's feet were so much like our
mother's feet. In the large hall, when that great outrage was committed and my
anger rose, when I looked at his feet, which were so much like Kunti's feet, my
wrath subsided. I remember that now and my grief increases."
So
saying, Yudhishthira heaved a deep sigh. Narada told him all about Karna and
the curses that had been pronounced on him on various occasions.
Once,
when Karna saw that Arjuna was superior to him in archery, he approached Drona
and entreated him to teach him how to wield the Brahmastra. Drona declined
saying it was not open to him to instruct any but a brahmana of faultless
conduct or a kshatriya who had purified himself by much penance. Thereupon,
Karna went to the Mahendra hills and deceived Parasurama by saying that he was
a brahmana and became his disciple. From him he obtained instruction in archery
and the use of many astras.
One
day, when Karna was practising with his bow in the forest near Parasurama's
asrama, a brahmana's cow was accidentally hit and killed. The brahmana was
angry and uttered a curse on Karna: "In battle, your chariot wheels will
stick in the mud and you will be done to death, even like this innocent cow
which you have killed."
Parasurama
was exceedingly fond of Karna and taught him all the archery he knew and
instructed him fully in the use and the withdrawing of the Brahmastra.
One
day, however, he discovered that the disciple was not a brahmana. It happened
tha an an insect bit a hole into Karna's thigh when one afternoon the teacher
had fallen asleep on Karna's lap. Karna bore the acute pain quietly and did not
stir, lest the master should wake up. The warm blood trickling from the wound
woke up Parasurama. When he saw what had happened, he was angry.
"You
are a kshatriya; otherwise you could not have borne this physical pain without
stirring. Tell me the truth. You are not a brahmana. You have deceived your
teacher. Fool! When your hour comes, your knowledge of astras will fail you and
what you have learnt from me through deception will not avail you."
Parasurama's
wrath against kshatriyas is well known and, when he discovered that Karna was a
kshatriya, he cursed him thus in his anger.
Karna
was free in making gifts. One day, Indra, who was Arjuna's father, came in the
garb of a brahmana and begged of Karna for a gift of the divine earrings and
armor with which he had been born. Karna took them out and gave them away
accordingly. From that time, Karna's strength was reduced.
"Karna's
pledge to his mother Kunti that he would not kill more than one of the five of
you, Parasurarna's curse, the anger of the brahmana whose cow was killed by
Karna, the way in which his charioteer Salya depressed him by underrating his
valor and Vasudeva's stratagems, these combined to bring about Karna's end. Do
not grieve believing that you alone caused his death." Thus said Narada,
but Yudhishthira was not consoled by these words.
"Do
not blame yourself, son, for Karna's, death," said Kunti. "His
father, the sun lord himself, pleaded with him. He begged of him to give up the
wicked-hearted Duryodhana and join you. I too tried hard. But he would not
listen to us. He brought his end on himself."
"You
deceived us, mother" said Yudhishthira, "by hiding the secret of his
birth from us. You became thus the cause of this great sin. May women never be
able to keep a secret henceforth."
This
is the poet's story of how Yudhishthira cursed all women in his anguish over
having killed his own elder brother. It is a common notion that women cannot
keep secrets. And this story is a beautiful conception illustrating that
popular belief.
It
may be that in worldly affairs, it is an advantage to be able to keep secrets.
But it is not great virtue from the point of view of moral character, and women
need not grieve over an incapacity of this kind, if indeed Kunti's legacy still
persists.
The
affectionate temperament natural to women may perhaps incline them to openness.
But some women do keep secrets very well indeed, and not a man possess this
ability either. It is a fallacy to attribute the differences that arise out of
training and occupation on nature itself and imagine some qualities as peculiar
to a sex.
Yudhishthira's
pain of mind increased everyday as he thought of all the kinsmen that had been
killed. he was stricken with intense remorse and decided he must give up the
world go to the forest and do penance to expiate his sin.
"I
see no joy or good," he said to his brothers, in taking up the office of
king or in worldly enjoyment. Do rule the land yourselves leaving me free to go
to the forest."
Arjuna
talked of the nobility of family life and the entire good one may do without
taking sanyasa. Bhimasena also spoke and harshly.
"You
talk, alas"' he said, "like a dull-witted person who has committed to
memory the texts of the sastras without understanding their sense. Sanyasa is
not the dharma of kshatriyas. The duty of a kshatriya, is to live an active
life and perform his proper task, not to go to the forest renouncing
activity."
Nakula
also contested the propriety of Dharmaputra's proposal and insisted that the
path of work was the right one to follow and the way of sanyasa was beset with
difficulties.
Sahadeva
also argued likewise and entreated: "You are my father, my mother, my
teacher, as well as brother. Do not leave us, bear with us."
Draupadi
also spoke. "It was right we killed Duryodhana and his men. Why should we
regret it? Among the duties of a king is included the inflicting of just
punishment. It cannot be avoided and is an essential part of the ruler's duty.
You have meted just punishment too evildoers. There is no cause whatsoever for
contrition. It is now your sacred duty to take up the burden of governing the
land according to dharma. Cease grieving."
Then
Vyasa spoke to Yudhishthira at length and explained where his duty lay,
pointing out precedents, and persuaded him to go to the city and take up the
burden of ruling the land.
Yudhishthira
was duly crowned at Hastinapura. Before taking up the duties of the State,
Yudhishthira went to where Bhishma lay on his bed of arrows awaiting his death,
and took his blessing and instruction in dharma. This instruction of
Bhishmacharya to king Yudhishthira is the famous Santiparva of the Mahabharata.
After the discourse was over, Bhishma's soul passed out. The king went to the
Ganga and offered libations, in accordance with ancient custom, for the peace
of the departed soul.
After
the ceremony was over, Yudhishthira went up the bank. There, as he stood for a
while, all the tragic events came back to his mind, and overcome by intense
grief, he fell senseless on the ground, like an elephant struck down by the hunter.
Bhima
went up to his big brother and caressed him tenderly and spoke to him soothing
words. Dhritarashtra also came up and said to Yudhishthira:
AFTER
the libation ceremony for Bhishma was over, Vyasa narrated to grief-stricken
Yudhishthira an episode in Brihaspati's life. The wisest of men are sometimes
affected by envy and suffer thereby. Brihaspati, teacher to the gods
themselves, was master of all knowledge. He was learned in all the Vedas and
all the sciences, yet he was once the victim of this debasing emotion and
suffered disgrace.
Brihaspati
had a younger brother, Samvarta, who was also a person of great learning and a
very good man. Brihaspati was, for this reason, stricken with envy of his
brother.
In
this world men become envious of others, just because the others are good,
while they themselves are not so good, and they cannot bear this. It is strange
indeed that men should not suffer even virtue in others.
Brihaspati
harassed Samvarta in many ways. When he could not stand it any more, poor
Samvarta put on the appearance of an eccentric and wandered from place to
place, and spent his days in that way to escape from his brother's persecution.
King
Marutta of the Ikshwaku dynasty made great penance and obtained from the Lord
of Kailasa a great goldmine in the Himalayas and, with his resources thus
augmented, he decided to perform a great Yajna.
Marutta
requested Brihaspati to conduct the yajna for him. But Brihaspati feared that
Marutta would, as a result of the yajna, overshadow the gods who were his
charge.
He
refused to comply with the king's invitation, despite his pressing entreaties.
Thereupon, king Marutta, who had come to know about Samvarta found his
whereabouts and approached him with the invitation to conduct his yajna.
He
at first refused and tried to avoid the honor, but finally yielded. This
further increased Brihaspati's envy of his unfortunate brother.
"Here
is this enemy of mine, Samvarta, going to conduct king Marutta's great yajna.
What shall I do now?" Thus did Brihaspati brood over it until his envy
affected his health. His health declined rapidly and he became thin and pale.
His condition grew worse everyday, until it attracted the attention of Indra
himself.
Indra,
chief of the gods, approached the divine preceptor and saluting him asked:
"Lord, why are you ill? What has caused this languishing? Do you sleep
well? Do the attendants serve you properly? Do they anticipate your wishes and
not wait to be told? Do the gods behave courteously towards you or has there
been any lapse in this respect?"
To
Indra's anxious inquiry, Brihaspati replied: "Deva raja, I sleep on a good
bed and in right time. The attendants serve me with all devotion. There is
nothing wanting in the respect and courtesies shown by the gods." Then his
voice failed and he could not proceed. So great was his prostration of spirit.
"Why
are you grieved?" asked Indra affectionately. "Why have you grown thin
and bloodless? Tell me what troubles your mind."
Brihaspati
then told Indra about it all. "Samvarta is going to conduct a great yajna.
It is this that has made me wan and thin. I cannot help it," said he.
Indra was surprised.
"Learned
brahmana, there is no object of desire that is not already yours. You are wise
and learned, and the gods themselves have accepted you as their priest and wise
counselor. What harm can Samvarta do to you? There is nothing you can lose on
account of him. Why do you needlessly take upon yourself this suffering by mere
envy?"
It
was amusing that Indra should so far and so humanly forget his own history as
to give counsel of good conduct. But Brihaspati refreshed his memory on the
point and asked: "Would you yourself delightedly watch your enemy's power
growing? Judge me by how you would have felt had you been in my position. I beg
of you to save me against this Samvarta. You must find a way to put this man
down."
Indra
sent for Agni and said to him: "Go and stop the yajna of Marutta
somehow."
The
god of fire agreed and went on this mission. The trees and the creepers along
his path caught fire and the earth trembled as he marched roaring.
He
presented himself before the king in his divine form.
The
king was mightily pleased to see Agni stand before him. He ordered the
attendants to do all the usual honors of hospitality. "Let him be duly
seated. Have his feet laved and bring the gifts proper to his greatness,"
said the king, and this was done.
Agni
then explained why he had come. "Do give up this Samvarta. If you require
a priest, I shall bring Brihaspati himself to help you."
Samvarta,
who heard this, was indignant. The wrath of one who led the strict life of a
brahmacharin was exceedingly potent.
"Stop
this chatter!" he said to Agni. "Do not let my anger burn you
up."
Fire
reduces things to ashes, but brahmacharya can burn up fire itself!
At
Samvarta's anger Agni, trembling like an aspen leaf, retired quickly. He
returned to Indra and told him what had happened.
The
king of the gods could not believe the story. "Agni, you burn up other
things in the world. How can anything burn you? What is this story of
Samvarta’s angry eyes reducing you to ashes?"'
"Not
so, king of the gods," said Agni. "Brahmic power and the potency born
of brahmacharya are not unknown to you." Agni thus reminded Indra of what
the latter had suffered; incurring the wrath of those whom had attained Brahmic
power.
Indra did not wrangle but called a Gandharva
had said: "Now, Agni has failed. I want you to go as my messenger and ask
Marutta to give up Samvarta. Tell him that if he does not, he will incur my
wrath and be destroyed."
The
Gandharva went accordingly to king Marutta and faithfully conveyed Indra's
message and warning.
The
king would not listen. "I cannot be guilty of the deadly sin of deserting
a trusting friend," said the king: "I cannot give up Samvarta."
The
Gandharva said: "O king, how can you survive, when Indra hurls his bolt at
you?"
Even
as he said this, the clouds above thundered and everyone knew that the god of
the thunderbolt was coming, and trembled in fear.
The
king was in great fear and entreated Samvarta to save him.
"Fear
not," said Samvarta to the king, and he proceeded to put the power of his
penance into action.
Indra,
who had come to do battle, was compelled to change over to benevolent peace and
to take part in the yajna as the radiant god of sacrifices. He received the
burnt offering in proper form and retired. Brihaspati's plan of envy failed
miserably. Brahmacharya triumphed. Envy is a deadly sin. It is a universal
disease. If Brihaspati who could defeat the goddess of knowledge herself in
learning became a victim to envy, what is there to say about ordinary mortals?
WHEN
the battle was over, Krishna bade farewell to the Pandavas and went to Dwaraka.
While on his way, he met his old brahmana friend Utanga. Krishna stopped and
descending from his chariot saluted the brahmana.
Utanga
returned the greeting and proceeded to make the usual inquiries about the
health and welfare of relatives. "Madhava, do your cousins the Pandavas
and the Kauravas love one another as brothers should? Are they well and flourishing?"
he asked.
The
innocent recluse had not heard about the great battle that had been fought.
Krishna was astounded at the question of his brahmana friend. For a while, he
stood silent not knowing what to say in reply. Then he softly disclosed what had
happened.
"Sir,
a terrible battle had been fought by the Pandavas and the Kauravas, I tried
hard and applied every means to prevent the fight and make peace between them.
But they would not listen. Almost all of them have perished on the field of
battle. Who can stop the hand of fate?" Then he related all that had
happened.
When
Utanga heard the narrative, he was exceedingly wroth. With eyes red with
indignation he spoke to Madhava: "Vasudeva, were you there standing by and
did you let all this happen? You have indeed failed in your duty. You have
surely practised deceit and led them to destruction. Prepare now to receive my
curse!" Vasudeva smiled and said: "Peace, peace! Calm yourself. Do
not use up the fruit of your great penances in this anger. Listen to what I say
and then, if you like, you may pronounce your curse."
Krishna
pacified the indignant brahmana and appeared to him in his all-embracing form,
the Viswarupa.
"I
am born in various bodies from time to time to save the world and establish the
good. In whatever body I am born, I must act in conformity with the nature of
that body. When I am born as a Deva, I act as a Deva does. If I appear as a
Yaksha or as a Rakshasa, I do everything like a Yaksha or a Rakshasa. If I am
born as a human being, or as a beast, I do what is natural to that birth and
complete my task. I begged very hard of the ignorant Kauravas. They were
arrogant and intoxicated by power and paid no heed to my advice. I tried to
intimidate them. Therein also I failed. I was in wrath and showed them even my
Viswarupa. Even that failed to have an effect. They persisted in wrongdoing.
They waged war and perished. O best among brahmanas, you have no reason to be
angry with me."
After
this explanation of Krishna, Utanga recovered his calm. Krishna was, delighted.
"I
wish to give a boon to you. What would you like?" said Krishna.
"Achchyuta,"
said Utanga, "is it not enough I have seen Thee and Thy Form Universal? I
do not desire any further boon."
But
Krishna insisted and the desert wandering simple brahmana said: "Well, my
Lord, if you must give me some boon, let me find water to drink whenever I
might feel thirsty. Give me this boon."
Krishna
smiled. "Is this all? Have it then," he said, and proceeded on his
journey.
One
day Utanga was very thirsty and, unable to find water anywhere in the desert,
he bethought himself of the boon he had received.
As
soon as be did this, a Nishada appeared before him, clothed in filthy rags. He
had five hunting hounds in leash and a water-skin strapped to his shoulder.
The
Nishada grinned at Utanga and saying, "You seem to be thirsty. Here is
water for you," offered the bamboo spout of his water-skin to the brahmana
to drink from.
Utanga, looking at the man and his dogs and his
water skin, said in disgust: "Friend, I do not need it, thank you."
Saying this, he thought of Krishna and reproached him in his mind:
"Indeed, was this all the boon you gave me?"
The
outcaste Nishada pressed Utanga over and over again to quench his thirst, but
it only made Utanga more and more angry and he refused to drink. The hunter and
his dogs disappeared.
Seeing
the strange disappearance of the Nishada, Utanga reflected: "Who was this?
He could not have been a real Nishada. It was certainly a test and I have
blundered miserably. My philosophy deserted me. I rejected the water offered by
the Nishada and proved myself to be an arrogant fool."
Utanga
was in great anguish. A moment later Madhava himself appeared with conch and
discus. "O Purushottama!" exclaimed Utanga; "you put me to a
difficult trial. Was it right of you to try me thus? Make an untouchable offer
unclean water to me, a brahmana, to drink. Was this kind?" asked Utanga.
Utanga spoke in bitter tones.
Janardana
smiled. "O Utanga, for your sake, when you put my boon into action, I
asked Indra to take amrita to you and give it to you as water. He said he could
not give to a mortal what would give him immortality, while he was willing to
do anything else. But I prevailed upon him and he agreed to take amrita and
give it to you as water, provided I let him do it as a Chandala and tested your
understanding and found you willing to take water from a Chandala. I accepted
the challenge believing you had attained jnana and transcended externals. But
you have done this and made me suffer defeat at Indra's hands." Utanga saw
his mistake and was ashamed.
WHEN
Yudhishthira was crowned and installed as king after the Kurukshetra battle, he
performed an aswamedha yajna. As was the custom on occasions of this great
horse sacrifice, all the princes of the land gathered on invitation and the
yajna was completed in great splendor. The brahmanas and the poor and the
destitute people, who had come in great numbers from all parts of the country,
received bounteous gifts. Everything was done in magnificent style and in
conformity With the injunctions relating to the sacrifice.
From
somewhere unseen, a weasel suddenly appeared right in the middle of the
assembled guests and priests in the great pavilion and, after rolling on the
ground laughed a loud human laugh as if in derision. The priests were alarmed
at this strange and unnatural occurrence and wondered whether it was some evil
spirit that had come to pollute and disturb the sacred rites.
The
weasel's body was on one side all shining gold. This remarkable creature turned
round and took a good view of the assembly of princes and learned brahmanas
that had come from various countries and gathered in that great pavilion and
began to speak:
"Princes
assembled and priests, listen to me. You no doubt believe that you have
completed your yajna in splendid style. Once upon a time, a poor brahmana who
lived in Kurukshetra made a gift of a pound of maize flour. Your great horse
sacrifice and all the gifts made in that connection are less than that small
gift of the Kurukshetra brahmana. You seem to think too much of your yajna.
Pray, be not so vain about it."
The
gathering was amazed at this strange and impertinent speech of the golden
weasel. The brahmana priests, who had performed the sacrificial rites, went up
to the weasel and spoke to it:
"Wherefrom
and why have you come to this yajna, performed by good and worthy men? Who are
you? Why do you utter words of scorn about our sacrifice? This aswamedha has
been duly completed in every detail in accordance with sastraic injunctions. It
is not proper that you should speak derisively of our great sacrifice. Everyone
that has come to this yajna has been duly attended to and has been accorded
suitable honors and gifts. Everyone is pleased with the gifts and returns happy
and contented. The mantras have been chanted perfectly and the oblations duly
offered. The four castes are pleased. Why do you speak as you do? Do explain
yourself."
The
weasel laughed again and said: "O brahmanas, what I said is true. I do not
grudge the good fortune of king Yudhishthira or the good fortune of any of you.
It is not envy that makes me say this. The yajna, which you have just completed
so showily, is not in truth as great an act as that gift of the poor brahmana,
which I have seen. And in reward for his gift, he and his wife, son and
daughter-in-law were immediately taken to swarga. Listen to my story which is a
true narrative of what I saw myself. Long before you waged your battle there, a
brahmana, lived in Kurukshetra, who obtained his daily food by gleaning in the
fields. He and his wife, son and daughter-in-law, all four lived in this
manner. Everyday in the afternoon they would sit down and have their only meal
for the day. On days when they failed to find enough grain, they would fast
until the next afternoon. They would not keep over any thing for the next day
if they got more than they required for the day. This was the strict
unchhavritti discipline they had pledged themselves to observe. They passed their
days thus for many years, when a great drought came and there was famine all
over the land. All cultivation ceased and there was neither sowing nor
harvesting nor any grain scattered in the fields to be gleaned. For many days
the brahmana and his family starved. One day, after wandering in hunger and
heat, with great difficulty they came home with a small quantity of maize,
which they had gathered. They ground it and after saying their prayers they
divided the flour into four equal parts and, offering thanks to God, sat down
eagerly to eat. Just then, a brahmana entered and he was exceedingly hungry.
Seeing an unexpected guest arrive, they got up and made due obeisance and asked
him to join them. The pure-souled brahmana and his wife and son and daughter-in-law
were exceedingly delighted to have the good fortune of receiving guest at that
juncture. 'Oh best of brahmanas, I am a poor man. This flour of maize was
obtained in accordance with dharma. Pray accept this. May blessings attend on
you,' said the brahmana of Kurukshetra and gave his share of the flour to the
guest. The guest ate it with avidity but he was still hungry when he had
finished. Seeing his hungry and unsatisfied look, the brahmana was grieved and
did not know what to do, when his wife said: 'Lord, give my share also to him.
I shall be glad if the guest's hunger he satisfied.' Saying this, she handed
her share of the flour to her husband to be given to the guest. 'Faithful one,'
said the brahmana, 'the beasts and the birds and all the animals tend the
females of their species with care. May man do worse? I cannot accept your
suggestion. What shall I gain in this or in the other world if I leave you to
starve and suffer hunger, you who help me and serve me to do the sacred duties
of a householder's life? Beloved one, you are now skin and bone and famished
and exceedingly hungry. How can I leave you to suffer in that condition and
hope to attain any good by feeding the guest? No, I cannot accept your offer.'
'You are versed in the sastras, best of brahmanas', replied the wife. 'Is it
not true that dharma, artha and all the objects of human activity are to the
common and equal benefit of both of us who have been joined together? Do look
on me with compassion and take my share of the flour and satisfy the
requirements of this our guest. You are hungry as I am and you should not make
any distinction between us. I entreat you not to deny my request.' The brahmana
yielded and took the wife's share and gave it to the guest who took it greedily
and ate it. But he was still hungry! Great was the distress of the poor
brahmana of Kurukshetra. His son, who saw this, came forward. 'Father, here is
my share,' said he. 'Give it to this guest who seems to be still hungry. I
shall be indeed happy if we shall thus be able to fulfil our duty.' The
father's distress increased. 'Child!' he exclaimed, 'old men can stand
starvation. Youth's hunger is severe. I am not able to find it in my heart to
accept what you say.' The son insisted: 'it is the duty of the son to look
after his father in his declining years. The son is not different from the
father. Is it not said that the father is born afresh in his son? My share of
the flour is yours in truth. I beg of you to accept what I give and feed this
hungry guest.' 'Dear boy, your nobility and your mastery over the senses fill
me with pride. Blessing on you. I shall accept your share!' said the father,
and he took the son's flour and gave it to the guest to eat. The guest ate the
third part of the flour also but he was still hungry! The brahmana, who lived
on scattered grain, was confused. While he was in distress, not knowing that to
do, his daughter-in-law addressed him thus: 'Lord, I shall give my share too
and gladly complete our efforts to feed this guest. I beg of you to accept it
and bless me, your child, for, by that, I shall have eternal good as my
reward.' The father-in-law was sad beyond measure. 'O girl of spotless
character, pale and emaciated as you are from starvation, you propose to give
your part of the food also to me, so that I may earn merit by giving it to this
guest. If I accept your offer, I shall indeed be guilty of cruelty. How could I
possibly look on when you wither in hunger?' The girl would not listen.
'Father, you are lord of my lord and master, preceptor of my preceptor, god of
my god. I implore you to accept my flour. Is not this body of mine dedicated
wholly to serve my lord? You should help me to attain the good. Do take this
flour, I entreat you.' Thus implored by his daughter-in-law, the brahmana
accepted her share of the flour and blessed her saying: 'Loyal girl, may every
good be yours!' The guest received this last portion avidly and ate it and was
satisfied. 'Blessed is your hospitality, given with the purest intent and to
the uttermost of your capacity. Your gift has leased me. Lo there, the gods are
showering flowers in admiration of your extraordinary sacrifice. See the gods
and the Gandharvas have come down in their bright chariots with their
attendants to take you with your family to the happy regions above. Your gift
has achieved swarga for you, as well as for your ancestors. Hunger destroys the
understanding of men. It makes them go aside from the path of rectitude. It
leads them to evil thoughts. The pious, when suffering the pangs of hunger,
lose their steadfastness. But you have, even when hungry, bravely set aside
your attachment to wife and son and placed dharma above all else. Rajasuya
sacrifices and horse sacrifices completed in splendor, would pale into
insignificance before the great sacrifice you have done through this single act
of hospitality. The chariot is waiting for you. Enter and go to swarga, you and
your family.' Saying this the mysterious guest disappeared."
Having
related this story of the Kurukshetra brahmana who lived by gleaning scattered
ears of corn in the field, the weasel continued:
"I
was nearby and caught the fragrance wafted from that flour of the brahmana. It
made my head all gold. I then went and rolled in joy on the ground where some
of the flour had been scattered. It made one side of me into bright gold. I
turned on the other side but there was no more flour left and that part of me
is still as it was. Desirous of getting my body made all gold, I have been
trying every place where men perform great yajnas and penances. I heard that
Yudhishthira of world fame was performing a yajna and came here, believing that
this sacrifice might come up to the standard. But I found it did not. So, I
said that your great aswamedha was not so great as the loft of flour which that
brahmana made to his guest." The weasel then disappeared.
MAN
pursues madly the object of his desire until it is got. When it is in his
possession, he is soon satisfied, but he becomes the slave of ever-fresh
longings and fresh griefs and finds no peace.
Although
to fight and to kill his enemies is a Kshatriyas dharma, what joy can one gets
out of power and position and wealth acquired by slaughter and grief inflicted
on brothers and near relations? It was this that Arjuna pointed out in his
powerful plea before Krishna when the battle commenced. Krishna in answer,
explained the principles of man's activities and the proper discharge of one's
duties. But, what Arjuna felt and argued had also a great deal of force and
there was more truth in it than appeared on the surface.
The
Pandavas defeated the Kauravas and became the unquestioned sovereigns of the
land. They took up their duties and discharged them according to dharma. But,
they found not in victory, the joy that they had expected.
"When
the Pandavas won and obtained the kingdom, how did they treat
Dhritarashtra?" asked king Janamejaya, and Vaisampayana, who recited
Vyasa's Mahabharata to the king, tells the story.
The
Pandavas with the utmost respect treated Dhritarashtra, who was plunged in a
sea of grief. They tried to make him happy. They did nothing to make him feel
humiliated. Yudhishthira issued no orders except with his approval. Gandhari,
whose hundred sons had disappeared like dream-gold, was looked after by
Kuntidevi with loving and sisterly devotion and Draupadi dutifully ministered
to them both, with equal respect.
Yudhishthira
furnished Dhritarashtra's house with rich seats and beds and decorations and
all else that was wanted. He sent from the royal kitchen most dainty and
palatable dishes prepared for him. Kripacharya, lived with Dhritarashtra and
kept him company. Vyasa comforted him with instructive stories of olden times,
calculated to assuage his sorrow.
In
the administration of affairs of the State, Yudhishthira consulted Dhritarashtra
and conducted himself so as to give him the feeling that in truth the kingdom
was ruled on his behalf and that he, as the eldest member of the family, was
still the supreme authority.
Yudhishthira
was most careful in his speech, never to allow himself to say anything to cause
pain to the bereaved old man. The princes, who came to Hastinapura from all
parts of the world, gave Dhritarashtra the same honors; as they did of old, as
if he were still the emperor.
The
women attendants gave Gandhari no occasion to feel her fallen estate.
Yudhishthira had instructed his brothers most strictly that nothing should be
done to cause the slightest pain to their uncle, who had lost all his sons.
The
brothers, with perhaps the exception of Bhima, followed this injunction
faithfully. Dhritarashtra too conducted himself lovingly towards the Pandavas.
He showed no ill will towards them even as they showed him no unkindness. The
Pandavas behaved unexceptionably towards their old uncle. After a time,
however, Bhima began on occasions to give cause for offence. He would
sometimes, in impatience, countermand the old man's instructions. He would let
fall in Dhritarashtra's hearing words like "Those perverse cousins of ours
have themselves to thank for their destruction."
It
was not possible for Bhima to forget or forgive Duryodhana, Karna or Duhsasana.
Gandhari felt intensely grieved when she noticed that Bhima uttered words,
which pained Dhritarashtra. She was, however, a noble and enlightened soul.
Whenever she felt pained at what Bhima said, she would look at Kunti and find
peace. For Kunti was a veritable embodiment of dharma and inspired forbearance.
Fifteen years passed in this manner.
FIFTEEN
years passed under king Yudhishthira's reign, when old Dhritarashtra found
himself utterly unable any longer to bear the burden of grief.
Hurt
by Bhima's occasional reproaches, he found no heart to accept the courtesies
and comforts provided under king Yudhishthira's orders. Unknown to the
Pandavas, he secretly fasted and underwent hard penances.
Gandhari
too observed manifests and inflicted privation on her. And one day
Dhritarashtra sent for Dharmaputra and spoke to him thus:
"Son,
blessings on you. I have spent fifteen happy years under your roof. You have
tended me most lovingly. I have made gifts and offerings to ancestors and
fulfilled all my desires in that respect. Bereaved Gandhari, laying aside her
own grief, has ministered to my physical wants all these years. My cruel sons,
who committed unforgivable wrong to Draupadi and deprived you of your lawful
inheritance, perished on account of their sins. But they fought like brave
soldiers and died in the battlefield and have gone to the happy regions
reserved for the brave. The time has come when with Gandhari I must do what has
to be done for our next state. You know what the sastras have lain down. I must
now go to the forest. These robes must be replaced by bark and tattered old
clothes, suitable for the life of Vanaprastha. I desire to go and live in the
forest, praying for your good. I want your permission for this. Let me follow
the practice of our fathers. As king, you will share in the fruits of my
penance."
Yudhishthira
received a shock when he saw Dhritarashtra and heard him say this. "I did
not know," he said, "that you had been fasting and sleeping on the
bare ground and mortifying your flesh in this manner. My brothers too were
unaware of this. I was misled into believing you were well looked after and
happy. Father, you have suffered grief, for which there can be no solace. I see
no good in kingdom or pleasures. I am a sinner. Desire and ambition deceived me
into this. Let your son Yuyutsu be king, or anyone else you choose. Or if you
will do so, you yourself may take up the duties of king and look after the
people. I shall go to the forest. Let me terminate this chapter of error. I
implore you to save me from further obloquy and burning shame. I am not the
king. You are the king. You ask me for permission to go. How then can I give or
refuse permission to you? Let me assure you that my anger against Duryodhana is
a thing of the past, gone without a trace. Fate willed it and engulfed us all
in confusion of mind. And events happened which were not in our control. We are
your children, even like Duryodhana and his brothers. Gandhari and Kunti is
alike mother to me and command equal regard and filial affection from me, their
child. If you go away to the forest, I must go with you and serve you there. If
you retire to the woods and leave me here, what joy shall I have in kingship? I
prostrate myself before you and implore you to forgive the errors we have been
guilty of. Serving you will give me true joy and peace of mind. Give me that
opportunity and privilege. Do not desert me."
Dhritarashtra
was deeply moved. But he said: "Kunti's beloved son, my mind is fixed on going to the forest and on
penance. I can find no peace otherwise now. I have lived under your roof for
many years. You and all your people have served me with unstinted devotion. You
must permit me now to fulfil my wish and let me go."
Having
thus spoken to Yudhishthira, who stood with clasped hands and trembling with
agitation, Dhritarashtra turned to Vidura and Kripacharya: "I beg of you
to comfort the king and make him grant my prayer. My mind is fixed on the
forest. I am unable to speak any more. I am feeling dry in my throat. Perhaps,
it is due to age. I have talked too much. I am tired." Saying this, he
leaned helplessly on Gandhari and swooned.
Yudhishthira
was unable to bear this distress of the grand old man, who had possessed the
sinews of an elephant and had had strength enough to crush the metal figure of
Bhima into powder.
How
lean he had become now and emaciated, with his bones showing through his skin,
piteously leaning senseless on Gandhari like one destitute.
"Have
I caused all this?" he reproached himself. "Miserable and unworthy am
I, ignorant of dharma, devoid of intelligence. A curse on my learning!"
He
sprinkled water on Dhritarashtra's face and caressingly stroked him with his
soft hands.
When
the old man recovered, he tenderly clasped the Pandava to his bosom and
muttered: "My dear boy, how sweet is your touch! I am happy."
Then
Vyasa entered. When he was acquainted with what had happened, he said to
Yudhishthira:
"Do
what Dhritarashtra, eldest of the Kurus, desires. Let him go to the forest. He
is old. All his sons have gone before him. It is not possible for him much
longer to bear his grief. Gandhari, whom God has blessed with enlightenment,
has borne her sorrows with courage. Do not stand in the way of their wishes.
Let not Dhritarashtra pine away and die here. Let him go and live among the
honeyladen flowers of the forest and breathe their fragrance, leaving the cares
of the world behind. The dharma of kings is to die in battle or to spend their
last days in retirement in the forest. Dhritarashtra has ruled the kingdom and
performed yajnas. When you were in the wilderness for thirteen years, he enjoyed
the wide earth through his son and gave bounteous gifts. You left him nothing
to desire. The time has come for him to do penance. Let him go with your hearty
consent, and without anger in his heart."
Dharmaraja
said: "So be it!"
Then
Vyasa returned to his hermitage.
104. The Passing Away Of The Three
WHEN
Yudhishthira at last gave his consent for Dhritarashtra's retirement to the
forest, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari went back to their residence and broke their
fast.
Kunti
sat with Gandhari and they ate together. Dhritarashtra asked Yudhishthira to
sit by him and gave him his last blessings.
Then
the old man stepped out and, with his hand resting on Gandhari's shoulder,
slowly walked out of the city on his journey to the forest.
Gandhari,
who, because her lord and husband was blind, gave up the use of her eyes and
wrapped her face with a cloth all her life, placed her hand on Kunti's shoulder
and slowly walked along, thus guided.
Kunti
had decided in her mind to go with Gandhari to the forest. As she walked on,
she was speaking to Yudhishthira: "Son, do not ever let your speech be
angry when you speak to Sahadeva. Remember with love Karna who died a hero's
death on the battlefield. He was my son, but I committed the crime of not
disclosing it to you. Look after Draupadi with unfailing tenderness. Do not
ever give cause for grief to Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva. Keep this ever
in mind, son. The burden of the family is now wholly on you."
Dharmaputra
had till then believed that Kunti was accompanying Gandhari only for a distance
to say goodbye. When he heard her speak thus, he was taken aback and was
speechless for a few minutes.
When
he recovered from the shock he said: "Mother, not thus! You blessed us and
sent us to battle. It is not right you should now desert us and go to the
forest."
Yudhishthira's
entreaties were however of no avail. Kunti held to her purpose.
"I
must join my lord and husband wherever he be now. I shall be with Gandhari and
go through the discipline of forest life and soon join your father. Go back
unagitated. Return to the city. May your mind ever stand steady on
dharma." Thus did Kunti bless her illustrious son and depart.
Yudhishthira
stood speechless. Kunti went on her way, looking back occasionally at him and
her other sons.
Each
with hand on the shoulder of the other, this picture of the three elders of the
tribe wending their way to the forest, leaving their sons behind, is painted by
the poet so vividly that it fills the reader with solemn grief, as if the
parting happened in his own family now.
Dhritarashtra,
Gandhari and Kunti spent three years in the forest. Sanjaya was with them. When
one day, Dhritarashtra finished his ablutions and returned to their hermitage,
the forest had caught fire.
The
wind blew and the flames spread everywhere. The deer and the wild boars ran in
herds hither and thither, and rushed madly to the pools.
Dhritarashtra
told Sanjaya: "This fire will envelop us all. You had better save
yourself."
Saying
this, the blind old king, Gandhari with her eves blindfolded and Kunti sat down
on the ground, the three of them, facing eastwards in yoga posture and calmly
gave themselves up to the flames.
Sanjaya,
who had been to the blind king, throughout all his days, his only light and was
dear to him like life itself, spent the rest of his days in the Himalayas as a
sanyasin.
KRISHNA
ruled at Dwaraka for thirty-six years after the Kurukshetra battle was
over. The Vrishnis, the Bhopas and other
branches of the Yadavas belonging to Krishna's tribe spent their days in
unrestrained self-indulgence and luxury. They lost all sense of discipline and
humility.
Once,
some rishis came to Dwaraka. The arrogant and irreverent Yadavas mocked these
rishis with a practical joke. They dressed up one of their young men like a
woman and, presenting him to the revered guests, said: "O ye learned men,
tell us whether this lady will have a boy or a girl."
The
rishis saw through the irreverent joke and said in anger: "This person
will give birth to a mace, not a boy or a girl and that mace will prove to be
Yama to your tribe and destroy you all." The rishis departed after
pronouncing this curse.
The
foolish Yadavas were rather perturbed at this unpleasant ending of what they
had thought was a good joke.
Next
day, they were in consternation to see that Samba, the man who had been dressed
up in female clothes, developed labor pains and lo and behold, gave birth to a
mace! This filled them with terror because they felt that their end was near as
the rishis had cursed.
They
deliberated long and finally ground the mace to fine powder, which they
scattered in the sea, and thought they, had thus disposed of the danger.
Nothing
happened for some time. Seasons passed. The rains came and on the beach, near
where they had strewn the fine dust of the awful club, there sprang up a dense,
crop of rushes.
When
the Yadavas saw this, they were curious and amused, for they had forgotten all
about the curse of the revered guests.
One
day, long after, the Yadavas went to the beach for a picnic and spent the whole
day in dance and drink and revelry. The liquor began to work.
At
first merry, then pugnacious, they began to talk without restrain, raking up old
offences and quarrelling, on slight cause with one another. Among the Yadavas,
Kritavarma had fought on the side of the Kauravas and Satyaki on that of the
Pandavas.
"Would
any Kshatriya attack and kill sleeping soldiers, O Kritavarma? You have brought
a great and lasting disgrace on our tribe," said Satyaki, taunting
Kritavarma, and a number of drunken Yadavas applauded the attack. Kritavarma
could not bear the insult.
"Like
a butcher, you slaughtered the great Bhurisravas when seated in yoga after his
right hand was cut off and you, coward, dare to taunt me," he exclaimed
and a number of the revelers joined him and began to scoff at Satyaki for his
barbarous deed.
Soon,
all the Yadavas were in the quarrel on one side or the other and presently from
words they came to blows, which swiftly developed into a free fight.
Satyaki,
with his sword drawn, sprang upon Kritavarma and cut his head off, exclaiming:
"Here is the end of the coward who killed sleeping soldiers! "
Others
immediately fell upon Satyaki with their drinking bowls and pots and anything
they could lay hands upon.
Pradyumna,
Krishna's son, joined the fray to rescue Satyaki and there was a desperate
melee in which both Satyaki and Pradyumna were killed.
Krishna
knew that the destined hour was come, and plucking the tall rushes, which
fringed the beach, laid about him with them indiscriminately.
This
led to every one of the Yadavas doing the same and there was great
indiscriminate slaughter. The rishis' curse had begun to work.
The
rushes that had grown out of the mace became each one of them a mace as it was
plucked by the doomed men in their unreasonable fury. They used them on one
another with deadly effect and soon all of them were destroyed in this drunken
brawl.
Balarama,
who was seeing all this, was overwhelmed with shame and disgust and sank to the
ground. He gave up his life as he lay in a yoga trance. Balarama passed away
into the ocean in a stream of light, which issued from his forehead like a silver
serpent. Thus ended the avatar of Narayana in Balarama.
Krishna
saw all his people thus destroy themselves as predestined. When he saw the
passing of Balarama, he roamed about in deep meditation in the wilderness,
pondering on the completion of his avatar. "The time has come for me to
go," he said to himself and, lying on the ground fell asleep.
In
that wooded beach, a hunter, prowling for game, saw Vasudeva lying on the
ground among the shrubs. From a distance, the hunter mistook Krishna for a wild
animal resting on the ground.
He
bent his bow and shot an arrow at the prostrate figure which, piercing his foot
in the insteep, went full through his body. Thus did the great Vasudeva depart
from the world of men.
106. Yudhishthira's Final Trial
To
Hastinapura came the sad tidings of the death of Vasudeva and the destruction
of the Yadavas. When the Pandavas received the news, they lost all remaining
attachment to life on earth.
They
crowned Parikshit, son ofAbhimanyu, as emperor and the five brothers left the
city with Draupadi. They went out on a pilgrimage, visiting holy places and
finally reached the Himalayas.
A
dog joined them somewhere and kept them company all along. And the seven of
them climbed the mountain on their last pilgrimage. As they toiled up the
mountain path one by one fell exhausted and died.
The
youngest succumbed first. Draupadi, Sahadeva and Nakula were released from the
burden of the flesh one after another. Then followed Arjuna and then great
Bhima too.
Yudhishthira
saw his dear ones fall and die. Yet, serenely he went on not giving way to
grief, for the light of Truth burned bright before him. Yudhishthira knew what
was shadow and what was substance.
The
dog still followed Yudhishthira. The lesson enforced by the poet in this
episode of the dog is that dharma is the only constant companion in life's
journey.
It
was dharma who, in the shape of the dog, followed Yudhishthira up the wearisome
mountain path, when his brothers and wife had gone leaving him alone.
Finally,
when he reached a great height, Indra appeared in his chariot.
"Your
brothers and Draupadi have arrived before you. You have lagged behind, burdened
with your body. Ascend my chariot and go with me in the flesh. I have come to
take you," said Indra. But when Yudhishthira went up to take his seat in
Indra's chariot, the dog also climbed up.
"No,
no," said Indra. "There is no place for dogs in swarga," and
pushed the dog away.
"Then
there is no room for me either," said Yudhishthira, and refused to enter
the heavenly chariot if he had to leave his faithful companion behind.
Dharma
had come to test Yudhishthira's loyalty and he was pleased with his son's
conduct. The dog vanished from sight. Yudhishthira reached swarga. There, he
saw Duryodhana.
The
Kuru prince was seated on a beautiful throne and he shone with the splendor of
the sun and around him stood in attendance the goddess of heroism and other
angels. He did not see his brothers or anyone else. Yudhishthira was
astonished.
"Where
are my brothers, ye denizens of swarga?" asked Yudhishthira. "This
man of greed, of limited vision, is here. I do not care to spend my time in his
company. We were driven by this man's envy and spite to kill friends and
relatives. We stood tied by dharma to inaction when, before our eyes, innocent
Panchali, united to us in sacred wedlock, was dragged to the Hall of the
Assembly and insulted under the orders of this wicked man. I cannot bear the
sight of this man. Tell me, where are my brothers? I wish to go where they
are." Saying this Yudhishthira averted his eyes from where Duryodhana was
seated in glory.
Then
Narada, the heavenly rishi of encyclopedic knowledge, smiled disapprovingly at
Yudhishthira and said: "Renowned prince, this is not right. In swarga, we
harbor no ill will. Do not speak in this manner about Duryodhana. The brave
Duryodhana has attained his present state by force of kshatriya dharma. It is
not right to let the things of the flesh stay in the mind and breed ill will.
Do follow the law and stay here with king Duryodhana. There is no place in
swarga for hatred. You have arrived here with your human body; so it is that
you have these inappropriate feelings. Discard them, son!"
Yudhishthira
replied:
"O
sage, Duryodhana, who did not know right from wrong, who was a sinner, who
caused suffering to good men, who fed enmity and anger and who brought death to
countless men, has attained this swarga of warriors. Where is that region of
greater glory, which must be the abode of my brave and good brothers and
Draupadi? I am eager to see them and Karna, and also all the friends and
princes who gave up their lives in battle for me. I do not see them here. I
desire to meet again Virata, Drupada, Dhrishtaketu and Sikhandin, the Panchala
prince. I long to see the dear sons of Draupadi and Abhimanyu. I do not see
them here. Where are they, who threw their bodies into the blazing fire of
battle for my sake, like ghee in the sacrifice? I do not see any of them here.
Where are they all? My place must be among them. At the close of the battle, my
mother Kunti wanted me to offer libations for Karna also. When I think of it,
even now, grief overwhelms me. In ignorance of his being my own blood brother,
I caused Karna to be slain. I am eager to see him. Bhima, dearer to me than
life, Arjuna, who was like Indra him self, the twins Nakula and Sahadeva and
our dear Panchali, steadfast in dharma, I long to see and be with them all. I
do not wish to be in heaven, for what good is it for me to be here, away from
my brothers? Wherever they may be, that me is swarga; not this place!"
The
angels, who heard this, replied:
"O
Yudhishthira, if you indeed desire to be with them, by all means, you may go at
once. There is no need to delay," and they ordered an attendant to take
Yudhishthira.
So,
the messenger proceeded in front and Yudhishthira followed him. As they went
along, it soon became dark and in the gathering gloom could be dimly seen
things weird and revolting.
He
waded through slippery slime of blood and offal. The path was strewn with
carrion and bones and dead men's hair. Worms were wriggling everywhere and
there was an insufferable stench in the air. He saw mutilated human bodies
everywhere.
Yudhishthira
was horrified and confused. A thousand thoughts tortured his mind as he
proceeded.
"How
far have we to go yet on this road? Where indeed are my brothers? Tell me, my
friend," he enquired of the messenger in deep anguish.
The
messenger quietly replied: "If you so desire, we may turn back." The
foul odors of the place were so sickening that for a moment Yudhishthira was
minded to go back.
But
just then, as if divining his intention, vaguely familiar voices rose all
around in loud lamentation. "O Dharmaputra, do not go back! Stay here for
a few minutes at least. Your presence has given us momentary relief from
torture. As you came, you have brought with you a whiff of air so sweet and
pure that we have found a little relief in our agony. Son of Kunti, the very
sight of you gives us comfort and mitigates our suffering. O stay, be it for
ever so short a time. Do not go
back. While you are here, we enjoy a respite in our torture." Thus the
voices pleaded.
Hearing
the loud lamentations that thus came from all around him, Yudhishthira stood in
painful bewilderment. Overwhelmed with pity at the poignant anguish in faintly
remembered voices, he exclaimed:
"Alas
wretched souls! Who are ye that lament like this? Why are you here?"
"Lord,
I am Karna," said a voice.
"I
am Bhima," said another.
"I
am Arjuna," cried a third voice.
"Draupadi,"
cried another voice in piteous tone.
"I
am Nakula," "I am Sahadeva," "We are Draupadi's sons,"
and so on, came mournful voices from all around, till the accumulated pain was
more that Yudhishthira could bear.
"What
sin indeed have these been guilty of?" cried he. "Dhritarashtra's son
Duryodhana, what good deeds did he do to sit like Mahendra in heaven, while
these are in hell? Am I dreaming or am I awake? Is my mind deranged? Have I
gone crazy?"
Overwhelmed
by anger, Yudhishthira cursed the gods and denounced dharma. He turned to the
angel attendant and said sharply: "Go back to your masters. I shall stay
here where my dear brothers, for no other sin than devotion to me, are
consigned to the tortures of hell. Let me be with them."
The
messenger went back and conveyed to Indra what Yudhishthira had said.
Thus
passed the thirteenth part of a day. Then Indra and Yama appeared before
Yudhishthira where he stood in anguish. When they came, the darkness rolled
away and the horrid sights disappeared. The sinners and their suffering were no
more to be seen. A fragrant breeze blew as Yama, the god of dharma, smiled on
his son Yudhishthira.
"Wisest
of men, this is the third time I have tested you. You chose to remain in hell
for the sake of your brothers. It is inevitable that kings and rulers must go
through hell if only for a while. So it was that for the thirtieth part of a
day you too were doomed to suffer the pangs of hell. Neither the illustrious
Savyasachi (Arjuna) nor your beloved brother Bhima is really in hell. Nor Karna
the just, nor anyone else who you thought had been consigned to suffering. It
was an illusion designed to test you. This is not hell, but swarga. Do you not
see there Narada whose travels cover the three worlds? Cease grieving."
Thus
said Yama to Dharmaputra, who, thereupon, was transfigured. The mortal frame
was gone and he was a god. With the disappearance of the human body, also
disappeared all trace of anger and hatred.
Then
Yudhishthira saw their Karna and all his brothers and the sons of Dhritarashtra
also, serene and free from anger, all having attained the state of the gods. In
this reunion, Yudhishthira at last found peace and real happiness.
Abhimanyu : Son of Arjuna and Subhadra who was
married to Uttara, daughter of King Virata.
Acharya : Teacher or Guru.
Achuta : A synonym of Sri Krishna.
Adhiratha
: Karna's foster-father.
Agastya
: A great sage whose life-story the Pandavas learnt while on pilgrimage
to holy places is wife Lopamudra was equally a great sage in her own right.
Agnihotra : A sacrifice to God Agni.
Airavata
: Indra's elephant.
Ajatasatru
: Having no enemy, friend of all born things, an epithet of
Yudhishthira.
Akshayapatra :
A wonderful vessel given to Yudhishthira by the Sun god which held a
never-failing supply of food.
Alambasa
: A Rakshasa friend of Duryodhana who had joined his forces but Satyaki
compelled him to flee from the battlefield.
Amrit :
Ambrosia, the food of the gods, which makes the partaker immortal.
Anga :
Mlechchha kings, a Kaurava supporter.
Arani :
An upper and a lower piece of wood used for producing fire by attrition.
Artha (Wealth) : one of the objects of human
life, the others being Dharma, (righteous- ness), Kama (satisfaction of
desires), Moksha (spiritual salvation).
Arundhati :
Wife of sage Vasishtha.
Ashtavakra : A towering scholar while still in
his teens.
Asita :
A sage who held that gambling was ruinous and should be avoided by all
wise people.
Asmaka :
A Kaurava warrior who attacked Abhimanyu.
Astra :
A missile charged with power by a holy incantation.
Aswamedha Yajna
: A horse sacrifice.
Aswathama :
Son of Dronacharya and last supreme commander of the Kaurava force.
Bahlika, Dasharna, : States the kings of which
were Kalinga, Magadha, friendly to the Pandavas, Matsya, Panchala, Salva
Baladev
: Balarama, elder brother of Sri Krishna.
Balarama
: Elder brother of Sri Krishna.
Balarama
: An avatar or incarnation of Adisesha the thousand-hooded serpent on
which Lord Mahavishnu reclines in Vaikuntha.
Bakasura
: A voracious, cruel and terribly strong Rakshasa or demon who lived in
a cave near the city of Ekachakrapura
whom Bhima killed to the great relief of the citizens.
Bhagadatta
: King of Pragjyotisha, a Kaurava ally.
Bhagawan :
Form of address to Gods and great rishis, example- Bhagawan Sri Krishna,
Narada, Vyasa.
Bharata : Son of Kaikeyi and King Dashratha,
stepbrother of Rama, who was exceptionally devoted to and loved Rama.
Bharadwaja :
A rishi, father of Yavakrida.
Brahma :
Creator of the universe.
Brahmastra :
A divine weapon, irresistible, one given by Lord Brahma himself.
Brahmacharin
: A religious student, unmarried, who lives with his spiritual guide,
devoted to study and service.
Brahmacharya : Celibacy, chastity; the stage of
life of Vedic study in which chastity and service are essential.
Brihadaswa
: A great sage who visited the Pandavas in their forest hermitage and
reminded them of King Nala of Nishadha who also lost his kingdom in the game of
dice and who deserted his wife Damayanti because of a curse but ultimately
regained both,
Brihadratha : Commander of three regiments
reigned over Magadha and attained celebrity as a great hero, married the twin
daughters of the Raja of Kasi. His two wives ate each half of a mango given by
sage Kausika and begot half a child each. A Rakshasi recovered the two portions
from a dustbin wherein they were thrown and when they accidentally came
together, they became a chubby baby, which she presented to the king, saying it
was his child, which later became known as Jarasandha.
Brihadyumna :
A King, a disciple of sage Raibhya.
Brihannola :
Name assumed by Arjuna while living at Virata's court in incognito.
Brihatbala
: A daring warrior who charged at Abhimanyu caught in the Kaurava army's
net.
Bhima : The second Pandava brother who excelled
in physical prowess as he was born of the wind-god.
Bhishmaka : King of Vidarbha, father of Rukmini
and Rukma.
Bhishma
: The old grandsire to whose care were committed the five Pandavas by
the rishis when the eldest Yudhishthira attained the age of sixteen for their
proper upbringing including mastery of the Vedas, Vedanta and various arts
especially those pertaining to the Kshatriyas. Later he intervened but without success to bring about peace and
understanding between the Kauravas and the Pandavas who ruled separately from
Hastinapura and Indraprastha respectively. He was the eighth child of King
Santanu and Ganga. Appointed supreme commander of the Kaurava armies.
Bhojas : A branch of the Yadava clan belonging
to Krishna's tribe.
Bhuminjaya :
Another name of prince Uttara son of Virata who had proceeded to fight
the Kaurava armies, with Brihannala as his charioteer.
Burisrwas :
One of the powerful kings on the side of the Kauravas.
Bibhatsu
: One of Arjuna's name meaning a hater of unworthy acts.
Chala :
A Kaurava warrior.
Chandala :
A person of a degraded caste, whose conduct was much below standard and
whose cause pollution.
Charachitra :
A son of King Dhritarashtra who perished in the war
Chavadi
: Place of public assembly of the village. It is the property of the
entire community. In it all public
business is transacted, and it serves also as the village club the headquarters
of the village police and guest house for travellers.
Chekitana
: Head of one division of the Pandava army.
Chitra : A son of Dhritarashtra killed in the
war.
Chitraksha
: One of the many sons of King Dhritarashtra who fell in the war
Chitrasena :
King of the Gandharvas who prevented the Kauravas from putting up their
camp near the pond where he himself had
encamped.
Chitrayudha
: A Kaurava prince who laid down his life in the war.
Chitravarma
: A brother of Duryodhana who was killed in the war
Chitrangada
: Elder son of Santanu born of Matsyagandhi (Satyavati) who succeeded
his father on the throne of Hastinapura.
Chitrasena :
A Kaurava warrior.
Daruka :
Sri Krishna's charioteer.
Dasaratha
: King of Ayodhya and Rama's father.
Darshana
: A country whose king attacked Bhagadatta's elephant in an effort to
save Bhima.
Devadatta : Name of Arjuna's conch.
Devaki :
Mother of Sri Krishna.
Devata :
A sage who condemned the game of dice as an evil form of gambling and declared
it unfit as entertainment for good people, as it usually offered scope for
deceit and dishonesty.
Devavrata :
The eighth child of Santanu and Ganga who in time mastered the art
yielding arms and learned the Vedas and Vedanta as also the sciences known to
Sukra was crowned Yuvaraja (heir
apparent), but later vowed to celibacy and was known as Bhishma.
Devayani :
The beautiful daughter of Sukracharaya, preceptor of the demons, who
fell in love with Kacha, son of
Brihaspati, preceptor of the Devas.
Devendra
: King of the Gods.
Dharma : Righteous course of conduct.
Dharmagranthi : Assumed named of Nakula at
Virata's court.
Dharmananda :The delighted of Dharma, a name of
Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma or Yama.
Dharmavyadha :
He possessed the secret of good life and lived in the city of Mithila.
He was a meat-seller.
Dhananjaya
: One of the names of Arjuna.
Dhanusaksha
: A great sage whom Medhavi, son of sage Baladhi, once insulted. He took
the form of a bull and butted at that mountain and broke it to pieces. Then
Medhavi fell down dead.
Dhaumya :
Preceptor of the Pandavas, who accompanied them during their exile to
the Kurijangala forest, singing Sama hymns addressed to Yama, Lord of Death.
Dhrishtadyumna : Supreme commander of the
Pandava forces eldest brother of Draupadi.
Dhrishtaketu
: A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Dhritarashtra
: Elder son of Vichitravirya and Ambika, born blind, father of
Duryodhana.
Dharmaputra
: The son of Yama, epithet of Yudhishthira.
Dhartarashtras : Sons of Dhritarashtra
Draupadi : Daughter of King Drupada, King of
Panchala, who married all the five Pandavas though Arjuna had won her in the Swayamvara, because
of the vow that they would share everything in common.
Drona : Son of a Brahmana named Bharadwaja;
married a sister of Kripa and a son Aswathama was born to them; learnt military
art from Parasurama, the maser. Later he became the instructor to of the
Kaurava and Pandava princes in the use of arms.
Drupada : King of Panchala, father of Draupadi
who became the wife of the Pandavas
Duhsasana
: Duryodhana's brother who dragged Draupadi to the hall of assembly
pulling her by her hair.
Durdhara :
A son of Dhritarashtra killed by Bhima in the war.
Durjaya
: A brother of Duryodhana who was sent to attack Bhima, to save Karna's
life but lost his own.
Durmarsha :
A son of Dhritarashtra killed by Bhima.
Durmata
: A son of Dhritarashtra who got killed by Bhima.
Durmukha
: A chariot-borne warrior on the Kaurava side.
Durvasa
: A sage known for his anger who visited the Kauravas.
Durvishaha :
A warrior fighting on the Kaurava side.
Dushkarma
: A warrior belonging to the Kaurava side.
Dussaha :
A son of Dhritarashtra killed by Bhima.
Dwaitayana
: A forest where the Kaurava, cows were being bred and housed.
Ganapati
: Amanuensis of Vvasa who agreed to write down without pause or
hesitation the story of the Mahabharata
dictated by Vyasa.
Gandhari :
Dhritarashtra's wife and queen mother of the Kauravas.
Gandharvas : A class of celestial beings regarded as
specialists in music.
Gandiva : Arjuna's most potent bow.
Gangadwara : A place where sage Agastya and his
wife performed penance.
Ghalotkacha
: Son of Bhima from demoness Hidimba.
Govinda : One of the epithets of Sri Krishna
and Vishnu; it means a cow-keeper and refers to Krishna's occupation in Gokula,
the colony of cowherds.
Guru : Revered preceptor, teacher.
Hamsa, Hidimbaka, Kamsa. : Allies of King
Jarasandha; the last married the two daughters of Jarasandha. Also Krishna's
step-uncle whom Krishna killed.
Halayudha : Plough-weaponed, an epithet of
Balarama who wielded a plough as his weapon.
Hanuman :
Wise and learned monkey devotee of Sri Rama, who possessed extraordinary
powers of discrimination and wisdom and who searched and found Sita in her
confinement in Lanka.
Hastinapura : Capital city of the Kauravas.
Hrishikesha : Krishna.
Ilvala : This demon and his brother Vatapi
hated brahmanas implacably. Ilvala would invite a brahman to a feast at which
he would serve the meat of the goat into which his brother had turned he. After
the brahmin had partaken of the feast he would call his brother out who would
rend his way back to life, tearing the belly of the guest.
Indra : King of the Gods.
Indrajit : Son of Ravana, King of Lanka, who
conquered Indra, the Lord of Gods and who was killed by Rama's brother
Lakshmana.
Indrasena
: A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Indrakila :
A mountain Arjuna passed on his way to the Himalayas to practise
austerities to acquire powerful new weapons from Lord Mahadeva.
Iravan :
Arjuna's son by a Naga wife who fell in the battle on the eighth day.
Janaka : King of Mithila, a great Rajarishi;
father of Sita, wife of Sri Rama.
Janamejaya : A king who conducted a great
sacrifice for the well being of the human race.
Janardana : A name of Krishna
Jarasandha
: Mighty king of Magadha of whose prowess all Kshatriyas were afraid.
Killed by Bhima in a thirteen-day
non-stop physical combat: with Sri Krishna and Arjuna as witnesses.
Jarita, Laputa
: Female companions of a saranga bird, who was a rishi named Mandapala in
his previous birth when he was refused
admission to heaven be cause he was childless.
Jalasura :
A demon killed by Bhima.
Jaya : A
son of King Dhritarashtra who was killed by Bhima in the war
Jayadratha :
A warrior on the side of Kauravas who closed the breach effected by
Abhimanyu in the Chakravyuha military formation by Dronacharya and trapped him
inside.
Jayatsena
: A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Jayatsena :
A warrior fighting on the side of Kauravas.
Jnana :
Knowledge of the eternal and real
Kacha :
Grandson of sage Angiras and son of Brihaspati, who went to seek
knowledge under Sukracharya as a brahmacharin. Devayani, the preceptor's lovely
daughter, fell in love with him. The Asuras (demons) suspecting him of wanting
to steal the secret of reviving the dead, killed him a number of times. But due
to Devayani's love for him, her father brought him back to life every time he
was killed. Ultimately the secret was learnt by the devas who then succeeded in
defeating the asuras.
Kagola : A disciple of the great sage and
teacher of Vedanta, Uddalaka.
Kambojas : Enemies of the Kauravas whom Karna
had defeated
Kamsa : Maternal Uncle of Sri Krishna and son
of Ugrasena, also son-in-law of Jarasandha, whom Sri Krishna killed.
Kanika : Minister of Sakuni.
Kanka : Assumed name of Yudhishthira at
Virata's court.
Kausikam : A sage who learnt from Dharmavyadha
the secret of Dharma, of performing one's duty.
Karna : A matchless warrior, son of the Sun god
and Kunti. Disciple of Parasurama. Also son of
Radha, his foster-mother, and was known as Radheya.
Kartavirya : A great warrior who defeated
Ravana, King of Lanka.
Kartikeya : Commander of the armies of the
devas.
Kekaya : A brave warrior on the Pandava side
into whose chariot Bhima got during the fighting on the sixth day.
Kesava : One of the names of Sri Krishna.
Ketama : Another chief whose head was cut off
by Drona.
Khandavaprastha : The ancient capital from
where the ancestors of Pandavas, Nahusha and Yayati ruled. The Pandavas rebuilt the ruined city
and erected palaces and forts and renamed it Indraprastha.
Kichaka : Sudeshna's brother,
commander-in-chief of Virata's army, who made advances to Sairandhri
(Draupadi). He was invited to meet her at night at the ladies dancing hall and
was met instead by Valala (Bhima) dressed up as a female who killed him
(Kichaka).
Kripacharya : Aswathama's uncle who advocated a
combined assault on Arjuna in battle as against Karna's boast that he could
take him on single-handed.
Krishna-Dwaipayana : Sage Vyasa.
Krauncha : Curlew-heron.
Krauncha-Vyuha : military formation on a
pattern supposed to resemble a heron with outstretched beak and spreading
wings. In ancient Indian practice, armies were arrayed for battle in formations
of definite patterns, each of which had a name such as Chakra, or Kurma or
Krauncha, or Makara according to a real or fancied resemblance.
Kritavarma : A notable Yadava warrior fighting
on the side of Kaurava forces.
Kshatradharma : A great warrior on the side of
Pandavas.
Kuchasthala : A city where Krishna stayed the
night on his way to the court of Dhritarashtra.
Kumbhakarna : Brother of Ravana, King of Lanka,
who was asleep most of the time because of the curse of Brahma.
Kundinapura : Capital of Vidarbha.
Kunti : She was the daughter of Sura and was
known as Pritha. She was given in adoption to the king's childless cousin
Kuntibhoja and was named Kunti after her adoptive father. Sage Durvasa, whom
she had served while he was a guest at her father's house, gave her a divine
mantra which when repeated would give her a son from any god whom she would
call upon. Out of childish curiosity, she invoked the Sun god by repeating the
Mantra and then she gave birth to a son born with divine armor and earrings.
Ashamed, she placed the child in a sealed box and set it afloat on a river. The
box was picked up by a childless charioteer and brought up as his own and
became known as Karna. Later, Kunti chose Pandu as her husband at a Swayamvara.
Kunti-Madri :
Queens of King Pandu who gave birth to three and two sons known as the
Pandavas in the forest where he spent many years for having committed some sin.
The sons were known as Yudhishthira, Bhima. Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva.
Kurma : Tortoise.
Lakshmana : Younger step-brother of Rama and
son of Sumitra and King Dasaratha. Duryodhana's gallant young son also bore
this name.
Lomasa : A brahmana sage who advised the
Pandavas to reduce their retinue while repairing to the forest. Those unable to
bear the hardships of exile were free to go to the court of Dhritarashtra or
Drupada, king of Panchala. He accompanied Yudhishthira on his wanderings.
Lopamudra : Daughter of the king of Vidarbha
who married the sage Agastya.
Lord Narayana : Refuge of men; Mahavishnu.
Madhava : One of the names of Krishna. It means
the Lord of Lakshmi.
Madhusudana
: Another name of Krishna, the slayer of the asura Madhu.
Mahavishnu : Lord of the Universe who took
human birth in order to wrest his kingdom from Emperor Bali for the salvation
of the world. Lord Vishnu also took birth as Rama, son of Dasaratha, to kill
Ravana, King of Lanka.
Mahendra : A King who had attained heaven.
Maitreya : A sage who visited the court of
Dhritarashtra, expressed sorrow at the Pandava's plight, advised Duryodhana not
to injure the Pandavas for his own good.
Mantra : An incantation with words of power.
Manasarovar : A sacred lake in the Himalayas
Mandavya : A sage wrongly punished by the king
by being impaled as the chief of robbers who had clandestinely hidden their
stolen goods in a corner of his hermitage when he was in deep contemplation. Lord Dharma gave him this
punishment for having tortured birds and bees in his childhood. At this Mandavya cursed Dharma who
was born as Vidura, the wise, to the servant maid of Ambalika, wife of King
Vichitravirya, who offered her to Sage Vyasa in place of Ambalika.
Maricha :
A character in the Ramayan, uncle of Ravana who transformed him self
into a golden deer at the behest of Ravana to entice Sita.
Markandeya : A sage who told Yudhishthira the
story of a brahmana, Kausika.
Marutta : A king of the Ikshwaku dynasty whose
sacrifice was performed by Samvarta in defiance of Indra and Brihaspati.
Matali : Charioteer of Indra who took Arjuna to
the kingdom of gods.
Medhavi : Son of Sage Baladhi who desired that
his son should live as long as a certain mountain lasted.
Meru : An ancient mountain. Becoming jealous of
Meru, the Vindya began to grow very high obstructing the sun, the moon and the
planets. Agastya whom the Vindhya mountain respected asked it to stop growing
until he crossed it on his way to the south and returned to the north again.
But he did not return at all, having settled in the south.
Nahusha : A mighty king who was made king of
the gods because Indra had disappeared due to his killing Vritra through sin
and deceit.
Nakula : Fourth brother of the Pandavas.
Nala : King of Nishadha who lost his kingdom in
a game of dice and deserted his wife Damayanti because of a curse.
Nandini : Vasishtha's divinely beautiful cow.
Nara : Arjuna or Dhananjaya.
Narada : The sage who suddenly appeared before
Dhritarashtra and Vidura as the latter was describing the departure of the
Pandavas to the forest and uttered a prophecy that after fourteen years the
Kauravas would be extinct as a result of Duryodhana's crimes and vanished as
suddenly.
Narayana
: Sri Krishna or Krishna; Vishnu.
Narayanas : Krishna's kinsmen.
Narayanasrama : A charming forest where the
Pandavas had halted during their wanderings.
Nishadha : A country where Indra, Lord of the
gods had lived once disguised as a brahmana.
Nishada : An aboriginal hunter orfisherman: a
man of low or degraded tribe in general; an outcaste.
Panchajanya : Name of Krishna's conch.
Palasa : Butea frondosa, "flame of the
forest".
Panchali : Another name of Draupadi Queen of
the Pandavas and daughter of King Drupada.
Panchalya : A son of King Drupada who died in
the war.
Pandu : Second son of Vichitravirya and
Ambalika who succeeded to the throne of Hastinapura on his father's death, as
his elder brother Dhritarashtra was born blind, father of the Pandavas.
Parasara : A great sage, father of Veda Vvasa.
Paravasu : Son of Raibhva and elder brother of
Arvavasu whose wife was violated by Yavakrida, who was killed with a spear by a
fiend for his sin.
Parikshit : Son of Abhimanyu and grandson of
the Pandavas who was crowned king after the holocaust claimed the Kauravas and
the Pandavas.
Partha : Arjuna.
Parvati : Consort of Siva. Rukmini prayed to
her for saving her from the cruel Sisupala king of Chedi, as she had set her
heart on marrying Krishna.
Paurava : A Kaurava hero.
Phalguna : Arjuna.
Prabhasa : The Vasu who seized Vasishtha's
divine cow.
Pradyumna : Sri Krishna's son.
Pratikhami : Duryodhana's charioteer.
Pritha : Mother of Karna, Kunti before her
marriage.
Pundarikaksha : Krishna, the lotus-eyed one.
Purochana : An architect who built a beautiful
wax palace named "Sivam" in Varanavata.
Purumitra : A Kaurava warrior
Pitamaha : Literally grandfather, which however
carried no imputation of senile infirmity but denotes the status of the pater
familias.
Ptirushottama : An epithet of Sri Krishna. It
is one of the names of Vishnu and means the Supreme Being.
Raibhya : A sage whose hermitage was situated
on the banks of the Ganga. The Pandavas during their wanderings visited it.
This ghat was very holy. Bharata, son of Dasaratha bathed here. Indra was
cleansed of his sin of killing Vritra unfairly by bathing in this ghat.
Sanatkumar became one with God. Aditi, mother of the gods, prayed here to be
blessed with a son.
Radheya : Son of Radha, a name of Karna, who as
a foundling was brought up as a son by Radha, the wife of the Charioteer
Adhiratha.
Rajasuya : A sacrifice performed by a king to
be entitled to assume the title of "Emperor".
Ravana : King of Lanka who abducted Sita, the
beautiful wife of Ramachandra.
Rishabha : The second note of the Indian gamut
(Shadja, rishabha, gandhara, madhyama, panchama, daivata, nishada -sa, ri, ga,
ma, pa, dha, ni.)
Rishyasringa : Son of sage Vibhandaka, who had
grown up seeing no mortal except his father. The king of Anga, which was
afflicted with a dire famine, to bring rain and plenty, invited him.
Romapada : King of Anga which was once visited
by a great drought.
Rudra : One of the names of Siva.
Rudra dance : Siva's cosmic dance of
destruction.
Rukma : Heir apparent to the throne of
Vidarbha. When defeated by Balarama and Krishna he established a new city
Bhojakata, ashamed to return to Kundinapura, the capital of Vidarbha, and ruled
over it.
Sachidevi : Wife of Indra, king of the gods on
whom Nahusha's evil eye fell. She was also known as Indrani.
Sahadeva : Youngest of the Pandava princes who
offered the first honors to Krishna at the Rajasuya sacrifices.
Saibya : A ruler friendly to the Pandavas.
Sairandhri : A maid servant or female attendant
employed in royal female apartments.
Sakuni : He played dice on behalf of the
Kauravas and succeeded in defeating the Pandavas by a stratagem. As a result
the latter had to go and live in the forest for thirteen years. According to
the conditions of the game, the thirteenth and last year of exile was to be
spent incognito. If discovered by anyone they were again to repair to the
forests for a like term. He was considered to be the evil genius, who beguiled
Duryodhana to take to evil ways.
Salva : Friend of Sisupala, who besieged
Dwaraka Sri Krishna's kingdom to avenge Sisupala's death at the latter's hand.
Salya : Ruler of Madradesa and brother of Madri
and uncle of the Pandavas who because of having received hospitality from
Duryodhana went over to his side.
Samsaptaka : One who has taken a vow to conquer
or die, and never to retreat. The Samsaptakas were suicide-squads, vowed to
some desperate deed of daring.
Samvarta : Brihaspati's younger brother, a
person of great learning.
Samba : A Yadava youngster dressed as a woman
who gave birth to a mace, as foretold by rishis.
Sanga : Son of Virata. When king Virata was
wounded, he had to get into Sanga's chariot, having lost his chariot, horses
and charioteer
Sanjaya : The narrator who tells blind
Dhritarashtra the progress of the war from day to day. He told the king that a
victim of adverse fate would first become perverted and loses his sense of
right and wrong. Time would destroy his reason and drive him to his own
destruction.
Sankula Yuddha : A melee, confused fight, a
soldiers battle as distinguished from the combats of heroes.
Shanta : Wife of sage Rishyasringa.
Santanu : King of Hastinapura, father of
Bhishma.
Sanyasin: One who has renounced the world and
its concerns.
Sarasana : One of the Kaurava brothers who died
in the war.
Sarmishtha : Princes and daughter of king
Vrishaparva who got angry with Devayani and slapped and pushed her into a dry
well.
Satanika : Virata's son whose bead was severed
by Drona.
Satyajit : A Panchala prince, a hero who stood
by Yudhishthira to prevent his being taken prisoner by Drona, while Arjuna was
away answering a challenge by the Samsaptakas (the Trigartas).
Satyaki : A Yadava warrior, friend of Krishna
and the Pandavas who advocated collecting their forces and defeating the
unrighteous Duryodhana.
Satyavati :
A fisherman's daughter who possessed uncommon beauty and emanated a
divinely sweet fragrance and king Santanu became enamored of her, married her
and made her his queen.
Satyavrata : Warrior on the Kaurava side.
Saugandhika : A plant that produced a very
beautiful and fragrant flower that Bhima went to get for Draupadi.
Savyasachin : Ambidexter, one who can use both
hands with equal facility and effect. A name of Arjuna who could use his bow
with the same skill with either hands.
Sikhandin : A girl turned man, warrior on the
Pandava side who restored order among scattered, subdued soldiers, Drupada's
son.
Simhanada : A lion-note or roar; a deep roar of
defiance or triumph which warriors were wont to utter to inspire confidence in
their friends, of terror in their enemies.
Saindhava
: Jayadratha.
Sini : One of the suitors to Devaki’s hand. A
kinsman of the Kauravas.
Sisupala : King of Chedi. Died at the hands of
Krishna at the time of Dharmaputra's Rajasuya sacrifice.
Somadutta : One of the suitors to Devaki's
hand. A kinsman of the Kauravas.
Subahu : King of Kulinda in the Himalayas, ally
of the Kauravas.
Subhadra : Wife of Arjuna, sister of Sri
Krishna and mother of Abhimanyu.
Sudakshina : A warrior on the Kaurava side.
Sudarsana : A warrior on the Kaurava army.
Sudeshna : Queen of King Virata whom Sairandhri
(Draupadi) served.
Sugriva : Monkey-king, friend of Sri Rama, and
brother of mighty Vali whom Sri Rama killed.
Sujata : Daughter of Sage Uddalaka and wife of
Kagola, his disciple who had virtue and devotion but not much of erudition,
mother of Ashtavakra.
Suka : A sage, son of Vyasa, who related the
Srimad Bhagavata to King Parikshit, grandson of Arjuna.
Sumitra : Abhimanyu's charioteer.
Supratika : Name of King Bhagadatta's elephant.
Susarma : King of Trigarta, a supporter of the
Kauravas who backed the proposal to invade Matsya, Virata's country.
Suvarna : A soldier on the Kaurava side.
Sri Rama : Also knew as Rama, Ramachandra or
Sri Rama. Hanumana tells Bhima how he was deeply thrilled when he happened to
touch Rama's body. This king of Ayodhya was banished to the forest for fourteen
years, killed Ravana the king of Lanka who abducted his wife, Sita.
Srinjayas : Pandava supporters.
Srutayu, Astutayu : Two brothers fighting on
the Kaurava side attacked Arjuna but were
killed.
Srutayudha : A Kaurava warrior whose mace
hurled at Krishna rebounded fiercely, killing Srutayudha himself. Her mother
Parnasa had obtained that gift from Varuna who had specified that the mace
should not be used against one who does not fight, else it would kill the
person who hurls it.
Swarga : The heaven of Indra where mortals
after death enjoy the results of their good deeds on earth.
Sveta : A son of King Virata who fell in battle
to Bhishma's arrow.
Tantripala : Assumed name of Sahadeva at
Virata's court.
Uddalaka : A great sage and teacher of Vedanta.
Umadevi : Wife of Siva.
Unchhavritti : The life of a mendicant, begging
his food.
Upachitra : One of King Dhritarashtra's sons
who perished in the war.
Upaplavya : A place in Matsya Kingdom, where
the Pandavas settled after their exile of thirteen years.
Urvasi : An apsara in Indra's court, whose
amorous overtures Arjuna declined.
Vaisampayana : Chief disciple of sage Vyasa who
revealed the epic for the benefit humanity.
Vaishnava : A sacrifice performed by Duryodhana
in the forest. Yayati, Mandhata, Bharata and others also performed it.
Vaishnava mantra : An invocation which endows a
missile with some of the irresistible power of Vishnu.
Vajrayudha : The weapon with which Indra killed
Visvarupa on suspicion because his mother belonged to the asura tribe of
daityas.
Valala : Assumed name of Bhima when, he worked
as a cook at Virata's court.
Vali : Monkey-king, brother of Sugriva.
Vanaprastha : The third stage of the dvija's
life, when he is required to relinquish worldly responsibilities to his heirs
and retires to the woods with his wife for an anchorite's life.
Vandi : Court poet of Mithila who on being
defeated by Sage Ashtavakra in debate drowned himself in the ocean and went to
the abode of Varuna.
Varanavata : A forest in which the Pandavas
were asked to stay in a wax-house which was to be set on fire at midnight in
order to kill the Pandavas while they were asleep.
Vasishtha : A sage who had cursed the eight
Vasus to be born in the world of men as sons of Ganga and Santanu. Ganga threw
her seven children in to the river with a smiling face.
Vasudhana : Another warrior who perished in the
battle on the Twelfth Day.
Vasudeva : An epithet of Krishna. It means both
son of Vasudeva and the supreme spirit that pervades the universe.
Vedavyasa : Vyasa, author of the Mahabharata.
Vichitravirya: Younger son of Santanu who
succeeded King Chitrangada on the throne of Hastinapura. He had two sons,
Dhritarashtra and Pandu.
Vikarna : A son of Dhritarashtra who declared
the staking of Draupadi illegal, as Yudhishthira himself was a slave and had
lost all his rights. Therefore the Kauravas had not won Draupadi legally, he
held
Vinda, Anuvinda : Two brothers kings of Avanti,
great soldiers whom were on the Kaurava side, they suffered defeat at the hands
of Yudhamanyu
Virata : King of Matsya, the country which was
suggested by Bhima to live in incognito during the thirteenth year of their
exile.
Visoka : Bhima's charioteer.
Visvarupa : Name of Twashta's son who became
the preceptor of the gods, Brihaspati having left when insulted by Indra.
Vivimsati : A Kaurava hero.
Viswarupa : All-pervading, all-including form.
See the description in the Bhagavad Gita chapter eleven.
Vriddhakshatra : King of the Sindhus, father of
Jayadratha into whose lap his son Jayadratha's head was caused to fall by
Arjuna after cutting off Jayadratha's head.
Vrika : A Panchala prince who fell in battle.
Vrisha, Achala : Sakuni's brothers.
Vrishnis, Kekayas : Tribals who were devoted to
the Pandavas, who with Sri Krishna visited the Pandavas in their exile.
Vrishasena : A warrior on the Kaurava side.
Vritra : Son of Twashta who was defeated by
Indra's weapons Vajrayudha. He was born out of his father's sacrificial flames
and became Indra's mortal enemy.
Vrikodara : Wolf-bellied, an epithet of Bhima,
denoting his slimness of waist and insatiable hunger.
Vyasa : Compiler of the Vedas, son of sage
Parasara.
Vyuha : Battle arrays.
Yama : God of death. God of dharma, whose son
was Yudhishthira. It is he whose questions Yudhishthira answered correctly
whereupon his dead brothers were brought back to life on the banks of the
enchanted pool.
Yajna : A sacrifice.
Yaksha : A class of demi-gods, subjects of
Kubera, the god of wealth.
Yavakrida : Son of Sage Bharadwaja who was bent
upon mastering the Vedas.
Yayati : Emperor of the Bharata race who
rescued Devayani from the well into which she had been thrown by Sarmishtha. He
later married both Devayani and Sarmishtha. One of the ancestors of the
Pandavas who became prematurely old due to Sukracharya's curse.
Yudhamanyu : A prince supporting the Pandavas.
Yuyudhana : Another name of Satyaki.
Yuyutsu : A noble son of Dhritarashtra who bent
his head in shame and sorrow when Yudhishthira lost Draupadi. He also
disapproved of the unfair way in which Abhimanyu was killed.