MAHABHARATA
retold by C. Rajagopalachari CONTENTS
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. |