MAHABHARATA retold by C. Rajagopalachari
Compiled,edited & reformatted for the Web by Jay Mazo, International Gita Society
NOTE:- This file has been made 'Read Only' to protect Copyright owners
15.
The Escape Of The Pandavas
35.
Mere Learning Is Not Enough
39.
The Wicked Are Never Satisfied
55.
Not A Needle-Point Of Territory
63.
Yudhishthira Seeks Benediction
76.
To Seize Yudhishthira Alive
104.
The Passing Away Of The Three
106.
Yudhishthira's Final Trial
IT is not an
exaggeration to say that the persons and incidents portrayed in the great
literature of a people influence national character no less potently than the
actual heroes and events enshrined in its history. It may be claimed that the
former play an even more important part in the formation of ideals, which give
to character its impulse of growth.
In the moving history
of our land, from time immemorial great minds have been formed and nourished
and touched to heroic deeds by the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. In most Indian
homes, children formerly learnt these immortal stories as they learnt their
mother tongue at the mother's knee. And the sweetness and sorrows of Sita and Draupadi,
the heroic fortitude of Rama and Arjuna and the loving fidelity of Lakshmana
and Hanuman became the stuff of their young philosophy of life.
The growing complexity
of life has changed the simple pattern of early home life. Still, there are few
in our land who do not know the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. Though the
stories come to them so embroidered with the garish fancies of the Kalakshepam
(devotional meeting where an expert scholar and singer tells a story to his
audience) and the cinema as to retain but little of the dignity and approach to
truth of Vyasa or Valmiki. Vyasa's
Mahabharata is one of our noblest heritages. And it is my cherished belief that
to hear it faithfully told is to love it and come under its elevating
influence. It strengthens the soul and drives home, as nothing else does, the
vanity of ambition and the evil and futility of anger and hatred.
The realities of life
are idealised by genius and given the form that makes drama, poetry or great
prose. Since literature is closely related to life, so long as the human family
is divided into nations, literature cannot escape the effects of such division.
But the highest
literature transcends regionalism and through it, when we are properly attuned,
we realise the essential oneness of the human family. The Mahabharata is of
this class. It belongs to the world and not only to India. To the people of
India, indeed, this epic has been an unfailing and perennial source of
spiritual strength. Learnt at the mother's knee with reverence and love, it has
inspired great men to heroic deeds as well as enabled the humble to face their
trials with fortitude and faith.
The Mahabharata was
composed many thousand years ago. But generations of gifted reciters have added
to Vyasa's original a great mass of material. All the floating literature that
was thought to be worth preserving, historical, geographical, legendary
political, theological and philosophical, of nearly thirty centuries, found a
place in it.
In those days, when
there was no printing, interpolation in a recognised classic seemed to
correspond to inclusion in the national library. Divested of these accretions, the Mahabharata
is a noble poem possessing in a supreme degree the characteristics of a true
epic, great and fateful movement, heroic characters and stately diction.
The characters in the
epic move with the vitality of real life. It is difficult to find anywhere such
vivid portraiture on so ample a canvas. Bhishma, the perfect knight; the
venerable Drona; the vain but chivalrous Karna; Duryodhana, whose perverse
pride is redeemed by great courage in adversity; the high souled Pandavas with
godlike strength as well as power of suffering; Draupadi, most unfortunate of
queens; Kunti, the worthy mother of heroes; Gandhari, the devoted wife and sad
mother of the wicked sons of Dhritarashtra, these are some of the immortal
figures on that crowded, but never confused, canvas.
Then there is great
Krishna himself, most energetic of men, whose divinity scintillates through a
cloud of very human characteristics. His high purposefulness pervades the whole
epic. One can read even a translation and feel the over whelming power of the
incomparable vastness and sublimity of the poem.
The Mahabharata
discloses a rich civilisation and a highly evolved society, which though of an
older world, strangely resembles the India of our own time, with the same
values and ideals. India was divided into a number of independent kingdoms.
Occasionally, one king,
more distinguished or ambitious than the rest, would assume the title of
emperor, securing the acquiescence of other royalties, and signalised it by a
great sacrificial feast. The adherence was generally voluntary. The assumption
of imperial title conferred no overlordship. The emperor was only first among
his peers.
The art of war was
highly developed and military prowess and skill were held in high esteem. We
read in the Mahabharata of standardised phalanxes and of various tactical
movements. There was an accepted code of honorable warfare, deviations from
which met with reproof among Kshatriyas. The advent of the Kali age is marked
by many breaches of these conventions in the Kurukshetra battle, on account of
the bitterness of conflict, frustration and bereavements. Some of the most
impressive passages in the epic center round these breaches of dharma.
The population lived in
cities and villages. The cities were the headquarters of kings and their
household and staff. There were beautiful palaces and gardens and the lives led
were cultured and luxurious. There was trade in the cities, but the mass of the
people were agriculturists.
Besides this urban and
rural life, there was a very highly cultured life in the seclusion of forest
recesses, centerd round ascetic teachers. These ashramas kept alive the bright
fires of learning and spiritual thought. Young men of noble birth eagerly
sought education at these ashramas. World-weary aged went there for peace.
These centers of culture were cherished by the rulers of the land and not the
proudest of them would dare to treat the members of the hermitages otherwise
than with respect and consideration.
Women were highly
honored and entered largely in the lives of their husbands and sons. The caste
system prevailed, but intercaste marriages were not unknown. Some of the
greatest warriors in the Mahabharata were brahmanas. The Mahabharata has moulded the character and
civilisation of one of the most numerous of the world's people.
How did it fulfil, how
is it still continuing to fulfil, this function? By its gospel of dharma, which
like a golden thread runs through all the complex movements in the epic. By its
lesson that hatred breeds hatred, that covetousness and violence lead
inevitably to ruin, that the only real conquest is in the battle against one's
lower nature.
BHAGAVAN VYASA, the
celebrated compiler of the Vedas, was the son of the great sage Parasara. It
was he who gave to the world the divine epic of the Mahabharata.
Having conceived the
Mahabharata he thought of the means of giving the sacred story to the world. He
meditated on Brahma, the Creator, who manifested himself before him. Vyasa
saluted him with bowed head and folded hands and prayed:
"Lord, I have
conceived an excellent work, but cannot think of one who can take it down to my
dictation."
Brahma extolled Vyasa
and said: "O sage, invoke Ganapati and beg him to be your
amanuensis." Having said these words he disappeared. The sage Vyasa
meditated on Ganapati who appeared before him. Vyasa received him with due
respect and sought his aid.
"Lord Ganapati, I
shall dictate the story of the Mahabharata and I pray you to be graciously
pleased to write it down."
Ganapati replied:
"Very well. I shall do as you wish. But my pen must not stop while I am
writing. So you must dictate without pause or hesitation. I can only write on
this condition?"
Vyasa agreed, guarding
himself, however, with a counter stipulation: "Be it so, but you must
first grasp the meaning of what I dictate before you write it down."
Ganapati smiled and
agreed to the condition. Then the sage began to sing the story of the
Mahabharata. He would occasionally compose some complex stanzas which would
make Ganapati pause a while to get at the meaning and Vyasa would avail himself
of this interval to compose many stanzas in his mind. Thus the Mahabharata came
to be written by Ganapati to the dictation of Vyasa.
It was before the days
of printing, when the memory of the learned was the sole repository of books.
Vyasa first taught the great epic to his son, the sage Suka. Later, he
expounded it to many other disciples. Were it not so, the book might have been
lost to future generations.
Tradition has it that
Narada told the story of the Mahabharata to the devas while Suka taught it to
the Gandharvas, the Rakshasas and the Yakshas. It is well known that the
virtuous and learned Vaisampayana, one of the chief disciples of Vyasa,
revealed the epic for the benefit of humanity.
Janamejaya, the son of
the great King Parikshit, conducted a great sacrifice in the course of which
Vaisampayana narrated the story at the request of the former. Afterwards, this
story, as told by Vaisampayana, was recited by Suta in the forest of Naimisa to
an assembly of sages under the lead of the Rishi Saunaka.
Suta addressed the
assembly: "I had the good fortune to hear the story of the Mahabharata
composed by Vyasa to teach humanity dharma and the other ends of life. I should
like to narrate it to you." At these words the ascetics eagerly gathered
round him.
Suta continued: "I
heard the main story of the Mahabharata and the episodic tales contained
therein told by Vaisampayana at the sacrifice conducted by King Janamejaya.
Afterwards, I made an extensive pilgrimage to various sacred places and also
visited the battlefield where the great battle described in the epic was
fought. I have now come here to meet you all." He then proceeded to tell
the whole story of the Mahabharata in the grand assembly.
After the death of the
great King Santanu, Chitrangada became King of Hastinapura and he was succeeded
by Vichitravirya. The latter had two sons, Dhritarashtra and Pandu. The elder
of the two being born blind, Pandu, the younger brother, ascended the throne.
In the course of his reign, Pandu committed a certain offence and had to resort
to the forest with his two wives where he spent many years in penance.
During their stay in
the forest, the two wives of Pandu, Kunti and Madri gave birth to five sons who
became well known as the five Pandavas. Pandu passed away while they were still
living in the forest. The sages brought up the five Pandavas during their early
years.
When Yudhishthira, the
eldest, attained the age of sixteen the rishis led them all back to Hastinapura
and entrusted them to the old grandsire Bhishma. In a short time the Pandavas
gained mastery over the Vedas and the Vedanta as well as over the various arts,
especially pertaining to the Kshatriyas. The Kauravas, the sons of the blind
Dhritarashtra, became jealous of the Pandavas and tried to injure them in
various ways.
Finally Bhishma, the
head of the family, intervened to bring about mutual understanding and peace
between them. Accordingly the Pandavas and the Kauravas began to rule
separately from their respective capitals, Indraprastha and Hastinapura.
Some time later, there
was a game of dice between the Kauravas and the Pandavas according to the then
prevailing Kshatriya code of honor. Sakuni, who played on behalf of the
Kauravas, defeated Yudhishthira. As a result, the Pandavas had to be in exile
for a period of thirteen years. They left the kingdom and went to the forest
with their devoted wife Draupadi.
According to the
conditions of the game, the Pandavas spent twelve years in the forest and the
thirteenth year incognito.
When they returned and
demanded of Duryodhana their paternal heritage, the latter, who had in the
meanwhile usurped their kingdom, refused to return it. War followed as a
consequence.
The Pandavas defeated
Duryodhana and regained their patrimony. The Pandavas ruled the kingdom for
thirty-six years. Afterwards, they transferred the crown to their grandson,
Parikshit, and repaired to the forest with Draupadi, all clad humbly in barks
of trees.
This is the substance
of the story of the Mahabharata. In this ancient and wonderful epic of our land
there are many illustrative tales and sublime teachings, besides the narrative
of the fortunes of the Pandavas.
The Mahabharata is in
fact a veritable ocean containing countless pearls and gems. It is, with the
Ramayana, a living fountain of the ethics and culture of our Motherland.
"You must
certainly become my wife, whoever you may be." Thus said the great King
Santanu to the goddess Ganga who stood before him in human form, intoxicating
his senses with her superhuman loveliness.
The king earnestly
offered for her love his kingdom, his wealth, his all, his very life.
Ganga replied: "O
king, I shall become your wife. But on certain conditions that neither you nor
anyone else should ever ask me who I am, or whence I come. You must also not
stand in the way of whatever I do, good or bad, nor must you ever be wroth with
me on any account whatsoever. You must not say anything displeasing to me. If
you act otherwise, I shall leave you then and there. Do you agree?"
The infatuated king
vowed his assent, and she became his wife and lived with him.
The heart of the king
was captivated by her modesty and grace and the steady love she bore him. King
Santanu and Ganga lived a life of perfect happiness, oblivious of the passage
of time.
She gave birth to many
children; each newborn babe she took to the Ganges and cast into the river, and
then returned to the king with a smiling face.
Santanu was filled with
horror and anguish at such fiendish conduct, but suffered it all in silence,
mindful of the promise be had made. Often he wondered who she was, wherefrom
she had come and why she acted like a murderous witch. Still bound by his word,
and his all-mastering love for her, he uttered no word of blame or
remonstrance.
Thus she killed seven
children. When the eighth child was born and she was about to throw it into the
Ganges, Santanu could not bear it any longer.
He cried: "Stop,
stop, why are you bent on this horrid and unnatural murder of your own innocent
babes?" With this outburst the king restrained her.
"O great
king," she replied, "you have forgotten your promise, for your heart
is set on your child, and you do not need me any more. I go. I shall not kill
this child, but listen to my story before you judge me. I, who am constrained
to play this hateful role by the curse of Vasishtha, am the goddess Ganga,
adored of gods and men. Vasishtha cursed the eight Vasus to be born in the
world of men, and moved by their supplications said, I was to be their mother.
I bore them to you, and well is it for you that it was so. For you will go to
higher regions for this service you have done to the eight Vasus. I shall bring
up this last child of yours for some time and then return it to you as my
gift."
After saying these
words the goddess disappeared with the child. It was this child who later
became famous as Bhishma. This was how the Vasus came to incur Vasishtha's
curse. They went for a holiday with their wives to a mountain tract where stood
the hermitage of Vasishtha: One of them saw Vasishtha's cow, Nandini, grazing
there.
Its divinely beautiful
form attracted him and he pointed it out to the ladies. They were all loud in
praise of the graceful animal, and one of them
requested her husband to secure it for her.
He replied: "What
need have we, the devas, for the milk of cows? This cow belongs to the sage
Vasishtha who is the master of the whole place. Man will certainly become
immortal by drinking its milk. But this is no gain to us, who are already
immortal. Is it worth our while incurring Vasishtha's wrath merely to satisfy a
whim?"
But she was not thus to
be put off. "I have a dear companion in the mortal world. It is for her
sake that I make this request. Before Vasishtha returns we shall have escaped
with the cow. You must certainly do this for my sake, for it is my dearest
wish." Finally her husband yielded. All the Vasus joined together and took
the cow and its calf away with them.
When Vasishtha returned
to his ashrama, he missed the cow and the calf, because they were indispensable
for his daily rituals.
Very soon he came to
know by his yogic insight all that had taken place. Anger seized him and he
uttered a curse against the Vasus. The sage, whose sole wealth was his
austerity, willed that they should be born into the world of men. When the
Vasus came to know of the curse, repentant too late, they threw themselves on
the sage's mercy and implored forgiveness.
Vasishtha said:
"The curse must needs take its course. Prabhasa, the Vasu who seized the
cow, will live long in the world in all glory, but the others will be freed
from the curse as soon as born. My words cannot prove ineffective, but I shall
soften the curse to this extent."
Afterwards, Vasishtha
set his mind again on his austerities, the effect of which had been slightly
impaired by his anger. Sages who perform austerities acquire the power to
curse, but every exercise of this power reduces their store of merit.
The Vasus felt relieved
and approached the goddess Ganga and begged of her: "We pray you to become
our mother. For our sake we beseech you to descend to the earth and marry a
worthy man. Throw us into the water as soon as we are born and liberate us from
the curse." The goddess granted their prayer, came to the earth and became
the wife of Santanu.
When
the goddess Ganga left Santanu and disappeared with the eighth child, the king
gave up all sensual pleasures and ruled the kingdom in a spirit of asceticism.
One day he was wandering along the banks of the Ganges when he saw a boy
endowed with the beauty and form of Devendra, the king of the gods.
The child was amusing
himself by casting a dam of arrows across the Ganges in flood, playing with the
mighty river as a child with an indulgent mother. To the king who stood
transfixed with amazement at the sight, the goddess Ganga revealed herself and
presented the child as his own son.
She said: "O king,
this is that eighth child I bore you. I have brought him up till now. His name is Devavrata. He has mastered the art of
arms and equals Parasurama in prowess. He has learnt the Vedas and the Vedanta
from Vasishtha, and is well versed in the arts and sciences known to Sukra.
Take back with you this child who is a great archer and hero as well as a
master in statecraft."
Then she blessed the
boy, handed him to his father, the king, and disappeared.
WITH joy the king
received to his heart and his kingdom the resplendent and youthful prince
Devavrata and crowned him as the Yuvaraja, the heir apparent.
Four years went by. One
day as the king was wandering on the banks of the Yamuna, the air was suddenly
filled with a fragrance so divinely sweet that the king sought for its cause,
and he traced it to a maiden so lovely that she seemed a goddess. A sage had
conferred on her the boon that a divine perfume should emanate from her, and this
was now pervading the whole forest.
From the moment the
goddess Ganga left him, the king had kept his senses under control, but the
sight of this divinely beautiful maiden burst the bonds of restraint and filled
him with an overmastering desire. He asked her to be his wife.
The maiden said:
"I am a fisherwoman, the daughter of the chief of the fishermen. May it
please you to ask him and get his consent." Her voice was sweet as her
form.
The father was an
astute man.
He said: "O king,
there is no doubt that this maiden, like every other, has to be married to
someone and you are indeed worthy of her. Still you have to make a promise to
me before you can have her."
Santanu replied:
"If it is a just promise I shall make it."
The chief of the
fisherfolk said: "The child born of this maiden should be the king after
you."
Though almost mad with
passion, the king could not make this promise, as it meant setting aside the
godlike Devavrata, the son of Ganga, who was entitled to the crown.
It was a price that
could not be thought of without shame. He therefore returned to his capital,
Hastinapura, sick with baffled desire. He did not reveal the matter to anyone
and languished in silence.
One day Devavrata asked
his father: "My father, you have all that your heart could wish. Why then
are you so unhappy? How is it that you are like one pining away with a secret
sorrow?"
The king replied:
"Dear son, what you say is true. I am indeed tortured with mental pain and
anxiety. You are my only son and you are always preoccupied with military
ambitions. Life in the world is uncertain and wars are incessant. If anything
untoward befalls you our family will become extinct. Of course, you are equal
to a hundred sons. Still, those who are well read in the scriptures say that in
this transitory world having but one son is the same as having no son at all.
It is, not proper that the perpetuation of our family should depends on a
single life, and above all things I desire the perpetuation of our family. This
is the cause of my anguish." The father prevaricated, being ashamed to
reveal the whole story to his son.
Thewise Devavrata
realised that there must be a secret cause for the mental condition of his
father, and questioning the king's charioteer came to know of his meeting with
the fishermaiden on the banks of the Yamuna. He went to the chief of the
fishermen and besought his daughter's hand on his father's behalf.
The fisherman was
respectful, but firm: "My daughter is indeed fit to be the king's spouse.
Then should not her son become king? But you have been crowned as the heir
apparent and will naturally succeed your father. It is this that stands in the
way."
Devavrata replied:
"I give you my word that the son born of this maiden shall be king. And I
renounce in his favor my right as heir apparent," and he took a vow to
that effect.
The chief of the
fishermen said: "O best of the Bharata race, you have done what no one
else born of royal blood has you have done till now. You are indeed a hero. You
can yourself conduct my daughter to the king, your father. Still, hear with
patience these words of mine which I say as the father of the girl.
"I have no doubt
you will keep your word, but how can I hope that the children born of you will
renounce their birthright? Your sons will naturally be mighty heroes like you,
and will be hard to resist if they seek to seize the kingdom by force. This is
the doubt that torments me."
When he heard this
knotty question posed by the girl's father, Devavrata, who was bent on
fulfilling the king's desire, made his supreme renunciation. He vowed with
upraised arm to the father of the maiden: "I shall never marry and I
dedicate myself to a life of unbroken chastity."
And as he uttered these
words of renunciation the gods showered flowers on his head, and cries of
"Bhishma," "Bhishma" resounded in the air.
"Bhishma" means one who undertakes a terrible vow and fulfils it.
That name became the celebrated epithet of Devavrata from that time. Then the
son of Ganga led the maiden Satyavati to his father.
Two sons were born of
Satyavati to Santanu, Chitrangada and Vichitravirya, who ascended the throne
one after the other. Vichitravirya had two sons, Dhritarashtra and Pandu, born
respectively of his two queens, Ambika and Ambalika.
The sons of
Dhritarashtra, a hundred in number, were known as the Kauravas. Pandu had five
sons who became famous as the Pandavas. Bhishma lived long, honored by all as
the grandsire until the end of the famous battle of Kurukshetra.
The Family Tree
Santanu
(by
Ganga) (by Satyavati)
Bhishma Chitrangada&Vichitravirya
(by Ambika) (by Ambalika)
Dhtitarashtra Pandu
↓ ↓
The
Kauravas The Pandavas
CHITRANGADA, the son of
Satyavati, was killed in battle with a Gandharva. As he died childless, his
brother, Vichitravirya, was the rightful heir and was duly crowned king. And as
he was a minor, Bhishma governed the kingdom in his name till be came of age.
When Vichitravirya
reached adolescence Bhishma cast about for a bride for him. And as he heard
that the daughters of the king of Kasi were to choose theirhusbands according
to the ancient Kshatriya practice he went there to secure them for his brother.
The rulers of Kosla,
Vanga, Pundra, Kalinga and other princes and potentates had also repaired to
Kasi for the swayamvara, attired in their best. The princesses were so
far-famed for beauty and accomplishments that there was fierce competition to
win them.
Bhishma was famous
among the Kshatriyas as a mighty man-at-arms. At first everyone thought that
the redoubtable hero had come merely to witness the festivities of the
swayamvara. But when they found that he was also a suitor, the young princes
felt themselves let down and were full of chagrin. They did not know that he
had really come for the sake of his brother, Vichitravirya.
The princes began to
cast affronts at Bhishma: "This most excellent and wise descendant of the
Bharata race forgets that he is too old and forgets also his vow of celibacy.
What has this old man to do with this swayamvara? Fie on him!" The
princesses who were to choose their husbands barely glanced at the old man and
looked away.
Bhishma's wrath flamed
up. He challenged the assembled princes to a trial of their manhood and
defeated them all. And taking the three princesses in his chariot he set out
for Hastinapura.
But before he had gone
far, Salva, the king of the Saubala country who was attached to Amba,
intercepted and opposed him. For that princess had mentally chosen Salva as her
husband. After a bitter fight Salva was worsted, and no wonder, as Bhishma was
a peerless bowman. But at the request of the princesses Bhishma spared his
life.
Arriving in Hastinapura
with the princesses, Bhishma made preparations for their marriage to
Vichitravirya. When all were assembled for the marriage, Amba smiled mockingly at
Bhishma and addressed him as follows: "O son of Ganga, you are aware of
what is enjoined in the scriptures. I have mentally chosen Salva, the king of
Saubala, as my husband. You have brought me here by force. Knowing this, do
what you, learned in the scriptures, should do."
Bhishma admitted the
force of her objection and sent her to Salva with proper escort. The marriage
of Ambika and Ambalika, the two younger sisters, with Vichitravirya was duly
solemnised.
Amba went rejoicing to
Salva and told him what had happened: "I have mentally chosen you as my
husband from the very start. Bhishma has sent me to you. Marry me according to
the sastras."
Salva replied:
"Bhishma defeated me in sight of all, and carried you away. I have been
disgraced. So, I cannot receive you now as my wife. Return to him and do as he
commands." With these words Salva sent her back to Bhishma.
She returned to
Hastinapura and told Bhishma of what had taken place. The grandsire tried to
induce Vichitravirya to marry her. But Vichitravirya roundly refused to marry a
maiden whose heart had already been given to another.
Amba then turned to
Bhishma and she sought him to marry her himself as there was no other recourse.
It was impossible for Bhishma to break his vow, sorry as he was for Amba. And
after some vain attempts to make Vichitravirya change his mind, he told her
there was no way left to her but to go again to Salva and seek to persuade him.
This at first she was
too proud to do, and for long years she abode in Hastinapura. Finally, in sheer
desperation, she went to Salva and found him adamant in refusal.
The lotus-eyed Amba
spent six bitter years in sorrow and baffled hope. And her heart was seared
with suffering and all the sweetness in her turned to gall and fierce hatred
towards Bhishma as the cause of her blighted life.
She sought in vain for
a champion among the princes to fight and kill Bhishma and thus avenge her
wrongs but even the foremost warriors were afraid of Bhishma and paid no heed
to her appeal.
At last, she resorted
to hard austerities to get the grace of Lord Subrahmanya. He graciously
appeared before her and gave her a garland of ever-fresh lotuses, saying that
the wearer of that garland would become the enemy of Bhishma.
Amba took the garland
and again be sought every Kshatriya to accept the garland gift of the six-faced
Lord and to champion her cause. But no one had the hardihood to antagonise
Bhishma.
Finally, she went to
King Drupada who also refused to grant her prayer. She then hung the garland at
Drupada's palace gate and went away to the forest. Some ascetics whom she met
there and to whom she told her sorrowful tale advised her to go to Parasurama
as a suppliant. She followed their advice.
On hearing her sad story,
Parasurama was moved with compassion and said: "Dear child, what do you
want? I can ask Salva to marry you if you wish it."
Amba said: "No, I
do not wish it. I no longer desire marriage or home or happiness. There is now
but one thing in life for me, revenge on Bhishma. The only boon I seek is the
death of Bhishma."
Parasurama moved as
much by her anguish as by his abiding hatred of the Kshatriya race, espoused
her cause and fought with Bhishma. It was a long and equal combat between the
two greatest men-at-arms of the age. But in the end Parasurama had to
acknowledge defeat. He told Amba: "I have done all that I could and I have
failed. Throw yourself on the mercy of Bhishma. That is the only course left to
you."
Consumed with grief and
rage, and kept alive only by the passion for revenge, Amba went to the
Himalayas and practised rigorous austerities to get the grace of Siva, now that
all human aid had failed her. Siva appeared before her and granted her a boon,
that in her next birth she would slay Bhishma.
Amba was impatient for
that rebirth which would give her heart's desire. She made a pyre and plunged
into the fire pouring out the flame in her heart into the scarcely hotter blaze
of the pyre.
By the grace of Lord
Siva, Amba was born as the daughter of King Drupada. A few years after her
birth, she saw the garland of never-fading flowers that still hung at the
palace gate and had remained there untouched by anyone through fear. She put it
round her neck. Her father Drupada was in consternation at her temerity which
he feared would draw on his head the wrath of Bhishma.
He sent his daughter in
exile out of the capital to the forest. She practised austerities in the forest
and in time was transformed into a male and became known as the warrior
Sikhandin.
With Sikhandin as his
charioteer, Arjuna attacked Bhishma on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Bhishma
knew that Sikhandin was born as female, and true to his code of chivalry he
would not fight him under any circumstance.
So it was that Arjuna
could fight screened by Sikhandin and conquer Bhishma, especially because
Bhishma knew that his long and weary probation on earth was finished and
consented to be vanquished.
As the arrows struck
Bhishma in his last fight, he singled out those which had pierced him deepest
and said: "This is Arjuna's arrow and not Sikhandin's." So fell this
great warrior.
IN ancient times, there
was a bitter struggle between the devas or gods and the asuras or demons for
the lordship of the three worlds. Both belligerents had illustrious preceptors.
Brihaspati who was pre-eminent in the knowledge of the Vedas was the guiding
spirit of the devas, while the asuras relied on Sukracharya's profound wisdom.
The asuras had the
formidable advantage that Sukracharya alone possessed the secret of Sanjivini
which could recall the dead to life. Thus the asuras who had fallen in the
battle were brought back to life, time and again, and continued their fight
with the devas. The devas were thus at a great disadvantage in their long
drawn-out war with their natural foes.
They went to Kacha, the
son of Brihaspati, and besought his aid. They begged him to win his way into
the good graces of Sukracharya and persuade him to take him as a pupil. Once
admitted to intimacy and confidence, he was to acquire, by fair means or foul,
the secret of Sanjivini and remove the great handicap under which the devas
suffered.
Kacha acceded to their
request and set out to meet Sukracharya who lived in the capital city of
Vrishaparva, the king of the asuras. Kacha went to the house of Sukra, and
after due salutation, addressed him thus: "I am Kacha, the grandson of the
sage Angiras and the son of Brihaspati. I am a brahmacharin seeking knowledge
under your tutelage."
It was the law that the
wise teacher should not refuse a worthy pupil who sought knowledge of him. So
Sukra acceded and said: "Kacha, you belong to a good family. I accept you
as my pupil, the more willingly, that by doing so I shall also be showing my
respect for Brihaspati."
Kacha spent many years
under Sukracharya, rendering to perfection the prescribed duties in the
household of his master. Sukracharya had a lovelydaughter, Devayani, of whom he
was extremely fond. Kacha devoted himself to pleasing and serving her with song
and dance and pastime and succeeded in winning her affection, without detriment
however to the vows of brahmacharya.
When the asuras came to
know of this, they became anxious as they suspected that Kacha's object was
somehow to wheedle out of Sukracharya the secret of Sanjivini. They naturally
sought to prevent such a calamity.
One day, as Kacha was
engaged in grazing the cattle of his master the asuras seized him, tore him to
pieces and cast his flesh to the dogs. When the cattle returned without Kacha,
Devayani was filled with anxiety, and ran to her father with loud lamentations:
"The sun has set," she wailed, "and your nightly fire sacrifice
has been performed; still Kacha has not returned home. The cattle have come
back by themselves. I fear some mishap has befallen Kacha. I cannot live
without him."
The fond father
employed the art of Sanjivini and invoked the dead youth to appear. At once
Kacha came back to life and greeted the master with smiles. Asked by Devayani
the reason for his delay, he told her that as he was grazing the cattle the
asuras came suddenly on him and slew him. How he came back to life he knew not,
but come back to life he did, and there he was.
On another occasion
Kacha went to the forest to pluck flowers for Devayani, and again the asuras
seized and killed him, and pounding his body to a paste, mixed it up in
sea-water. As he did not return even after a long time Devayani went as before
to her father who brought Kacha back to life by his Sanjivini, and heard from
him all that had taken place.
For the third time
again, the Asuras killed Kacha and very cleverly as they thought, burnt his
body, mixed the ashes in wine and served it to Sukracharya who drank it,
suspecting nothing. Once more the cows returned home without their keeper, and
once again Devayani approached her father with her distressful appeal for
Kacha.
Sukracharya tried in
vain to console his daughter. "Though I have again and again brought back
Kacha to life," said he, "the asuras seem bent upon killing him.
Well, death is the common lot, and it is not proper for a wise soul like you to
sorrow at it. Your life is all before you to enjoy, with youth and beauty and
the goodwill of the world."
Devayani deeply loved
Kacha, and since the world began, wise words have never cured the ache of
bereavement. She said: "Kacha, the grandson of Angiras and the son of
Brihaspati, was a blameless boy, who was devoted and tireless in our service. I
loved him dearly, and now that he has been killed, life to me has become bleak
and insupportable. I shall therefore follow in his path." And Devayani
began to fast. Sukracharya, heart-stricken by his daughter's sorrow, became
very angry with the asuras, and felt that the heinous sin of killing a brahmana
would weigh heavily on their fortunes.
He employed the
Sanjivini art and called upon Kacha to appear. By the power of the Sanjivini
Kacha dispersed as he was in the wine which was inside Sukracharya's body at
the time, regained life, but prevented by the peculiarity of his location from
coming out, he could only answer to his name from where he was.
Sukracharya exclaimed
in angry amazement: "O brahmacharin, how did you get into me? Is this also
the work of the asuras? This is really too bad and makes me feel like killing
the asuras immediately and joining the devas. But tell me the whole
story."
Kacha narrated it all,
in spite of the inconvenience imposed by his position.
Vaisampayana continued:
"The high-souled and austere Sukracharya of immeasurable greatness, became
angry at the deceit practised on him in his wine, and proclaimed for the
benefit of humanity: 'Virtue will desert the man who through lack of wisdom
drinks wine. He will be an object of scorn to all, This is my message to
humanity, which should be regarded as an imperative scriptural injunction.'
Then he turned to his daughter Devayani and said: Dear daughter, here is a
problem for you. For Kacha to live, he must rend my stomach and come out of it,
and that means death to me. His life can only be bought by my death."
Devayani began to weep
and said: "Alas! It is death to me either way. For if either of you
perish, I shall not survive." Sukracharya sought a way out of the
difficulty. The real explanation of it all flashed on him.
He
said to Kacha: "O son of Brihaspati, I now see with what object you came
and verily you have secured it! I must bring you out to life for the sake of
Devayani, but equally for her sake I must not die either. The only way is to
initiate you in the art of Sanjivini so that you can bring me back to life
after I shall have died when a way is torn out through my entrails for you. You
should employ the knowledge I am going to impart to you and revive me, so that
Devayani need not grieve for either of us."
Accordingly Sukracharya
imparted the art of Sanjivini to Kacha. Immediately Kacha came forth from
Sukracharya's body, emerging like the full moon from a cloud, while the great
preceptor fell down mangled and dead.
But Kacha at once
brought Sukracharya back to life by means of his newly acquired Sanjivini.
Kacha bowed down to Sukracharya and said: "The teacher who imparts wisdom
to the ignorant is a father. Besides, as I have issued from your body you are
my mother too."
Kacha remained for many
more years under the tutelage of Sukracharya. When the period of his vow ended,
he took leave of his master to return to the world of the gods.
As he was about to
depart Devayani humbly addressed him thus: "O, grandchild of Angiras, you
have won my heart by your blameless life, your great attainments and nobility
of birth. I have loved you long and tenderly, even while you were faithfully
following your vows of a brahmacharin. You should now reciprocate my love and
make me happy by marrying me. Brihaspati as well as yourself are fully worthy
of being honored by me. "
In those days, it was
no uncommon thing for wise and learned brahmana ladies to speak out their mind
with honorable frankness. But Kacha said:
"O faultless one,
you are my master's daughter and ever worthy of my respect. I got back my life
by being born out of your father's body. Hence I am your brother. It is not
proper for you, my sister, to ask me to wed you."
Devayani sought in vain
to persuade him. "You are the son of Brihaspati," said she, "and
not of my father. If I have been the cause of your coming back to life, it was
because I loved you as indeed I have always loved you as my husband. It is not
fit that you should give up one like me sinless and devoted to you."
Kacha replied: "Do
not seek to persuade me to unrighteousness. You are enchanting more so now than
ever, flushed as you are with anger. But I am your brother. Pray bid me adieu.
Serve unto perfection, ever and always, my master Sukracharya."
With
these words Kacha gently disengaged himself and proceeded to the abode of
Indra, the king of gods. Sukracharya consoled his daughter.
ONE
warm afternoon, pleasantly tired with sporting in the woods Devayani and the
daughters of Vrishaparva, king of the asuras, went to bathe in the cool waters
of a sylvan pool, depositing their garlands on the bank before they entered its
waters.
A
strong breeze blew their clothes together into a huddled heap and when they
came to take them up again, some mistakes naturally occurred. It so happened
that princess Sarmishtha, the daughter of the king, clad herself in Devayani's
clothes. The latter was vexed and exclaimed half in jest at the impropriety of
the daughter of a disciple wearing the clothes of the master's daughter.
These
words were spoken half in jest, but the princess Sarmishtha became very angry
and said arrogantly: "Do you not know that your father humbly bows in
reverence to my royal father every day? Are you not the daughter of a beggar
who lives on my father's bounty? You forget I am of the royal race which
proudly gives, while you come of a race which begs and receives, and you dare
to speak thus to me."
Sarmishtha
went on, getting angrier and angrier as she spoke till, working herself up into
a fit of anger, she finally slapped Devayani on the cheek and pushed her into a
dry well. The asura maidens thought that Devayani had lost her life and
returned to the palace.
Devayani
had not been killed by the fall into the well but was in a sad plight because
she could not climb up the steep sides. Emperor Yayati of the Bharata race who
was hunting in the forest by a happy chance came to this spot in search of
water to slake his thirst. When he glanced into the well, he saw something
bright, and looking closer, he was surprised to find a beautiful maiden lying
in the well.
He
asked: "Who are you, O beautiful maiden with bright earrings and ruddy
nails? Who is your father? What is your ancestry? How did you fall into the
well?" She replied: "I am the
daughter of Sukracharya. He does not know that I have fallen into the well.
Lift me up" and she held forth her hands. Yayati seized her hand and
helped her out of the well.
Devayani
did not wish to return to the capital of the king of the asuras. She did not feel
it safe to go there, as she pondered again and again on Sarmishtha's conduct.
She told Yayati: "You have held a maiden by her right hand, and you must
marry her. I feel that you are in every way worthy to be my husband."
Yayati
replied: "Loving soul, I am a kshatriya and you are a brahmana maiden. How
can I marry you? How can the daughter of Sukracharya, who is worthy to be the
preceptor of the whole world, submit to be the wife of a kshatriya like myself?
Revered lady, return home." Having said these words Yayati went back to
his capital.
A
kshatriya maiden could marry a brahmana, according to the ancient tradition,
but it was considered wrong for a brahmana maiden to marry a kshatriya. The
important thing was to keep the racial status of women unlowered. Hence anuloma
or the practice of marrying men of higher castes was legitimate and the reverse
practice, known as pratiloma, i.e. marrying men of a lower caste, was
prohibited by the sastras.
Devayani
had no mind to return home. She remained sunk in sorrow in the shade of a tree
in forest. Sukracharya loved Devayani more than his life. After waiting long in
vain for the return of his daughter who had gone to play with her companions,
he sent a woman in search of her.
The
messenger after a weary search came on her at last near the tree where she was
sitting in dejection, her eyes red with anger and grief. And she asked her what
had happened.
Devayani
said: "Friend, go at once and tell my father that I will not set my foot
in the capital of Vrishaparva" and she sent her back to Sukracharya.
Extremely
grieved at the sad plight of his daughter Sukracharya hurried to her.
Caressing
her, he said: "It is by their own actions, good or bad, that men are happy
or miserable. The virtues or vices of others will not affect us in the
least." With these words of wisdom, he tried to console her.
She
replied in sorrow and anger: "Father, leave alone my merits and faults,
which are after all my own concern. But tell me this, was Sarmishtha, the
daughter of Vrishaparva, right when she told me you were but a minstrel singing
the praises of kings? She called me the daughter of a mendicant living on the
doles won by flattery. Not content with this arrogant contumely, she slapped me
and threw me into a pit which was nearby. I cannot stay in any place within her
father's territory." And Devayani began to weep.
Sukracharya
drew himself up proudly: "Devayani," he said with dignity, "you
are not the daughter of a court minstrel. Your father does not live on the
wages of flattery. You are the daughter of one who is reverenced by all the
world. Indra, the king of the gods, knows this, and Vrishaparva is not ignorant
of his debt to me. But no worthy man extols his own merits, and I shall say no
more about myself. Arise, you are a peerless gem among women, bringing
prosperity to your family. Be patient. Let us go home."
In
this context Bhagavan Vyasa advises humanity in general in the following words
of counsel addressed by Sukracharya to his daughter:
"He
conquers the world, who patiently puts up with the abuse of his neighbors. He
who, controls his anger, as a horseman breaks an unruly horse, is indeed a
charioteer and not he who merely holds the reins, but lets the horse go whither
it would. He who sheds his anger just as a snake its slough, is a real hero. He
who is not moved despite the greatest torments inflicted by others, will
realise his aim. He who never gets angry is superior to the ritualist who faith
fully performs for a hundred years the sacrifices ordained by scripture. Servants,
friends, brothers, wife, children, virtue and truth abandon the man who gives
way to anger. The wise will not take to heart the words of boys and
girls."
Devayani
humbly told her father: "I am indeed a little girl, but, I hope, not too
young to benefit by the great truth taught by you. Yet, it is not proper to
live with persons who have no sense of decency or decorum. The wise will not
keep company with those who speak ill of their family. However rich they may
be, the ill-mannered are really the veritable chandalas outside the pale of
caste. The virtuous should not mix with them. My mind is ablaze with the anger
roused by the taunts of Vrishaparva's daughter. The wounds inflicted by weapons
may close in time; scalds may heal gradually; but wounds inflicted by words
remain painful as long as one lives."
Sukracharya
went to Vrishaparva and fixing his eyes on him gravely said:
"O
king, though one's sins may not bring immediate punishment they are sure,
sooner or later, to destroy the very germ of prosperity. Kacha, the son of
Brihaspati, was a brahmacharin who had conquered his senses and never committed
any sin. He served me with fidelity and never strayed from the path of virtue.
Your attendants tried to kill him. I bore it. My daughter, who holds her honor
high, had to hear dishonoring words uttered by your daughter. Besides, she was
pushed into a well by your daughter. She cannot any more stay in your kingdom.
Without her I cannot live here either. So, I am going out of your
kingdom."
At
these words the king of the asuras was sorely troubled and said: "I am
ignorant of the charges laid at my door. If you abandon me, I shall enter fire
and die."
Sukracharya
replied: "I care more for the happiness of my daughter than for the fate
of you and your asuras, for she is the one thing I have and dearer to me than
life itself. If you can appease her, it is well and good. Otherwise I go."
Vrishaparva
and his retinue went to the tree under which Devayani stood and they threw
themselves at her feet in supplication.
Devayani
was stubborn and said: "Sarmishtha who told me that I was the daughter of
a beggar, should become my handmaiden and attend on me in the house into which
my father gives me in marriage."
Vrishaparva
consented and asked his attendants to fetch his daughter Sarmishtha.
Sarmishtha
admitted her fault and bowed in submission. She said: "Let it be as my
companion Devayani desires. My father shall not lose his preceptor for a fault
committed by me. I will be her attendant," Devayani was pacified and returned
to her house with her father.
On
another occasion also Devayani came across Yayati. She repeated her request
that he should take her as his wife since he had clasped her right hand. Yayati
again repeated his objection that he, a kshatriya, could not lawfully marry a
brahmana.
Finally
they both went to Sukracharya and got his assent to their marriage. This is an
instance of the pratiloma marriage which was resorted to on exceptional
occasions. The sastras, no doubt, prescribe what is right and forbid what is
wrong but a marriage once effected cannot be made invalid.
Yayati
and Devayani spent many days in happiness. Sarmishtha remained with her as an
attendant. One day Sarmishtha met Yayati in secret and earnestly prayed to
betaken also as his wife. He yielded to her prayer and married her without the
knowledge of Devayani.
But
Devayani came to know of it and was naturally very angry, She complained to her
father and Sukracharya in his rage cursed Yayati with premature old age.
Yayati,
thus suddenly stricken with age in the very prime of his manhood, begged so
humbly for forgiveness that Sukracharya, who had not forgotten Devayani's
rescue from the well, at last relented.
He
said: "O king, you have lost the glory which is youth. The curse cannot be
recalled, but if you can persuade anyone to exchange his youth for your age the
exchange will take effect." Thus he blessed Yayati and bade him farewell.
EMPEROR
Yayati was one of the ancestors of the Pandavas. He had never known defeat. He
followed the dictates of the sastras, adored the gods and venerated his
ancestors with intense devotion. He became famous as a ruler devoted to the
welfare of his subjects.
But
as has already been told, he became prematurely old by the curse of Sukracharya
for having wronged his wife Devayani. In the words of the poet of the
Mahabharata:
"Yayati
attained that old age which destroys beauty and brings on miseries." It is
needless to describe the misery of youth suddenly blighted into age, where the
horrors of loss are accentuated by pangs of recollection.
Yayati,
who found himself suddenly an old man, was still haunted by the desire for
sensual enjoyment. He had five beautiful sons, all virtuous and accomplished.
Yayati called them and appealed piteously to their affection:
"The
curse of your grandfather Sukracharya has made me unexpectedly and prematurely
old. I have not had my fill of the joys of life. For, not knowing what was in
store for me I lived a life of restraint, denying myself even lawful pleasures.
One of you ought to bear the burden of my old age and give his youth in return.
He who agrees to this and bestows his youth on me will be the ruler of my
kingdom. I desire to enjoy life in the full vigor of youth."
He
first asked his eldest son. That son replied: "O great king, women and
servants will mock at me if I were to take upon myself your old age. I cannot
do go. Ask of my younger brothers who are dearer to you than myself."
When
the second son was approached, he gently refused with the words: "Father,
you ask me to take up old age that destroys not only strength and beauty but
also as I see wisdom. I am not strong enough to do so."
The
third son replied: "An old man cannot ride a horse or an elephant. His
speech will falter. What can I do in such a helpless plight? I cannot
agree."
The
king was angry and disappointed that his three sons had declined to do as he
wished, but he hoped for better from his fourth son, to whom he said: "You
should take up my old age. If you exchange your youth with me, I shall give it
back to you after some time and take back the old age with which I have been
cursed."
The
fourth son begged to be forgiven as this was a thing he could by no means
consent to. An old man had to seek the help of others even to keep his body
clean, a most pitiful plight. No, much as he loved his father he could not do
it.
Yayati
was struck with sorrow at the refusal of the four sons. Still, hoping against
hope, he supplicated his last son who had never yet opposed his wishes:
"You must save me. I am afflicted with this old age with its wrinkles,
debility and grey hairs as a result of the curse of Sukracharya. It is too hard
a trial! If you will take upon yourself these infirmities, I shall enjoy life
for just a while more and then give you back your youth and resume my old age
and all its sorrows. Pray, do not refuse as your elder brothers have
done."
Puru,
the youngest son, moved by filial love, said: "Father, I gladly give you
my youth and relieve you of the sorrows of old age and cares of state. Be
happy."
Hearing
these words Yayati embraced him. As soon as he touched his son, Yayati became a
youth. Puru, who accepted the old age of his father, ruled the kingdom and
acquired great renown. Yayati enjoyed life for long, and not satisfied, went
later to the garden of Kubera and spent many years with an Apsara maiden.
After
long years spent in vain efforts to quench desire by indulgence, the truth
dawned on him.
Returning
to Puru, he said: "Dear son, sensual desire is never quenched by
indulgence any more than fire is by pouring ghee in it. I had heard and read
this, but till now I had not realised it. No object of desire, corn, gold,
cattle or women, nothing can ever satisfy the desire of man, We can reach peace
only by a mental poise beyond likes and dislikes. Such is the state of Brahman.
Take back your youth and rule the kingdom wisely and well."
With
these words Yayati took his old age. Puru, who regained his youth, was made
king by Yayati who retired to the forest. He spent his time there in
austerities and, in due course, attained heaven.
THE
sage Mandavya who had acquired strength of mind and knowledge of the
scriptures, spent his days in penance and the practice of truth.
He
lived in a hermitage in the forests on the outskirts of the city. One day while
he was immersed in silent contemplation under the shade of a tree outside his
hut of leaves, a band of robbers fled through the woods with officers of the
king in hot pursuit.
The
fugitives entered the ashrama thinking that it would be a convenient place to
hide themselves in. They placed their booty in a corner and hid themselves. The
soldiers of the king came to the ashrama tracking their footsteps.
The
commander of the soldiers asked Mandavya, who was rapt in deep meditation in a
tone of peremptory command: "Did you see the robbers pass by? Where did
they go? Reply at once so that we may give chase and capture them."
The
sage, who was absorbed in yoga, remained silent. The commander repeated the
question insolently. But the sage did
not hear anything. In the meantime some of the attendants entered the ashrama
and discovered the stolen goods lying there.
They
reported this to their commander. All of them went in and found the stolen
goods and the robbers who were in hiding.
The
commander thought: "Now I know the reason why the brahmana pretended to be
a silent sage. He is indeed the chief of these robbers. He has inspired this
robbery." Then he ordered his soldiers to guard the place, went to the
king and told him that the sage Mandavya had been caught with the stolen goods.
The
king was very angry at the audacity of the chief of the robbers who had put on
the garb of a brahmana sage, the better to deceive the world. Without pausing
to verify the facts, he ordered the wicked criminal, as he thought him, to be
impaled.
The
commander returned to the hermitage, impaled Mandavya on a spear and handed
over the stolen things to the king.
The
virtuous sage, though impaled on the spear, did not die. Since he was in yoga
when he was impaled he remained alive by the power of yoga. Sages who lived in
other parts of the forest came to his hermitage and asked Mandavya how he came
to be in that terrible pass.
Mandavya
replied: "Whom shall I blame? The servants of the king, who protect the
world, have inflicted this punishment."
The
king was surprised and frightened when he heard that the impaled sage was still
alive and that he was surrounded by the other sages of the forest. He hastened
to the forest with his attendants and at once ordered the sage to be taken down
from the spear. Then he prostrated at his feet and prayed humbly to be forgiven
for the offence unwittingly committed.
Mandavya
was not angry with the king. He went straight to Dharma, the divine dispenser
of justice, who was seated on his throne, and asked him: "What crime have
I committed to deserve this torture?"
Lord
Dharma, who knew the great power of the sage, replied in all humility: "O
sage, you have tortured birds and bees. Are you not aware that all deeds, good
or bad, however small, inevitably produce their results, good or evil?"
Mandavya
was surprised at this reply of Lord Dharma and asked: "When did I commit
this offence?"
Lord
Dharma replied: "When you were a child."
Mandavya
then pronounced a curse on Dharma: "This punishment you have decreed is
far in excess of the deserts of a mistake committed by a child in ignorance. Be
born, therefore, as a mortal in the world."
Lord
Dharma who was thus cursed by the sage Mandavya incarnated as Vidura and was
born of the servant-maid of Ambalika, the wife of Vichitravirya.
This
story is intended to show that Vidura was the incarnation of Dharma. The great
men of the world regarded Vidura as a mahatma who was unparalleled in his
knowledge of dharma, sastras and statesmanship and was totally devoid of
attachment and anger. Bhishma appointed him, while he was still in his teens,
as the chief counsellor of king Dhritarashtra.
Vyasa
has it that no one in the three worlds could equal Vidura in virtue and
knowledge. When Dhritarashtra gave his, permission for the game of dice, Vidura
fell at his feet and protested solemnly: "O king and lord, I cannot
approve of this action. Strife will set in among your sons as a result. Pray,
do not allow this."
Dhritarashtra
also tried in manly ways to dissuade his wicked son. He said to him: "Do not
proceed with this game. Vidura does not approve of it, the wise Vidura of lofty
intellect who is ever intent on our welfare. He says the game is bound to
result in a fierceness of hate which will consume us and our kingdom."
But
Duryodhana did not heed this advice. Carried away by his doting fondness for
his son, Dhritarashtra surrendered his better judgment and sent to Yudhishthira
the fateful invitation to the game.
SURA,
the grandfather of Sri Krishna, was a worthy scion of the Yadava race. His
daughter Pritha was noted for her beauty and virtues. Since his cousin
Kuntibhoja was childless, Sura gave his daughter Pritha in adoption to him.
From that time she was known by the name of Kunti after her adoptive father.
When
Kunti was a little girl, the sage Durvasa stayed for a time as a guest in her
father's house and she served the sage for a year with all care, patience and
devotion. He was so pleased with her that he gave her a divine mantra. He said:
"If
you call upon any god repeating this mantra, he will manifest himself to you
and bless you with a son equal to him in glory." He granted her this boon
because he foresaw by his yogic power the misfortune that was in store for her
future husband.
The
impatient curiosity of youth made Kunti test then and there the efficacy of the
mantra by repeating it and invoking the Sun whom she saw shining in the
heavens. At once the sky grew dark with clouds, and under cover of them the Sun
god approached the beautiful princess Kunti and stood gazing at her with ardent
soul scorching admiration. Kunti, overpowered by the glorious vision of her
divine visitor, asked: "O god, who art thou?"
The
Sun replied: "Dear maiden, I am the Sun. I have been drawn to you by the
spell of the son-giving mantra that you have uttered."
Kunti
was aghast and said: "I am an unwedded girl dependent on my father. I am
not fit for motherhood and do not desire it. I merely wished to test the power
of the boon granted by the sage Durvasa. Go back and forgive this childish
folly of mine." But the Sun god could not thus return because the power of
the mantra held him. She for her part was mortally afraid of being blamed by
the world. The Sun god however reassured her:
"No
blame shall attach to you. After bearing my son, you will regain virginity.''
Kunti
conceived by the grace of the Sun, the giver of light and life to all the
world. Divine births take place immediately without the nine months weary
course of mortal gestation.
She
gave birth to Karna who was born with divine armor and earrings and was bright
and beautiful like the Sun. In time, he became one of the world's greatest
heroes. After the birth of the child, Kunti once again became a virgin as a
result of the boon granted by the Sun.
She
wondered what she should do with the child. To hide her fault she placed the
child in a sealed box and set it afloat in a river. A childless charioteer
happened to see the floating case, and taking it, was surprised and delighted
to see within it a gorgeously beautiful child.
He
handed it over to his wife who lavished a mother's love on it. Thus Karna, the
son of the Sun god, came to be brought up as a charioteer's child. When the
time came for giving Kunti in marriage, Kuntibhoja invited all the neighboring
princes and held a swayamvara for her to choose her husband.
Many
eager suitors flocked to the swayamvara as the princess was widely famed for
her great beauty and virtue. Kunti placed the garland on the neck of King
Pandu, the bright representative of the Bharata race, whose personality
eclipsed the lustre of all the other princes assembled there. The marriage was
duly solemnised and she accompanied her husband to his capital Hastinapur.
On
the advice of Bhishma and in accordance with the prevailing custom, Pandu took
a second wife Madri, the sister of the king of Madra. In the old days the kings
took two or three wives for making sure of progeny and not for mere sensual
desire.
ONE
day King Pandu was out hunting. A sage and his wife were also sporting in the
forest in the guise of deer. Pandu shot the male with an arrow, in ignorance of
the fact that it was a sage in disguise. Stricken to death the rishi thus
cursed Pandu: "Sinner, you will meet with death the moment you taste the
pleasures of the bed."
Pandu
was heartbroken at this curse and retreated to the forest with his wives after
entrusting his kingdom to Bhishma and Vidura and lived there a life of perfect
abstinence.
Seeing
that Pandu was desirous of offspring, which the rishi’s curse had denied him,
Kunti confided to him the story of the mantra she had received from Durvasa. He
urged Kunti and Madri to use the mantra and thus it was that the five Pandavas
were born of the gods to Kunti and Madri.
They
were born and brought up in the forest among ascetics. King Pandu lived for
many years in the forest with his wives and children. It was springtime. And
one day Pandu and Madri forgot their sorrows in the rapture of sympathy with
the throbbing life around them, the happy flowers, creepers, birds and other
creatures of the forest.
In
spite of Madri’s earnest and repeated protests Pandu’s resolution broke down
under the exhilarating influence of the season, and at once the curse of the
sage took effect and Pandu fell, dead.
Madri
could not contain her sorrow. Since she felt that she was responsible for the
death of the king. She burnt herself on the pyre of her husband entreating
Kunti to remain and be a mother to her doubly orphaned children.
The
sages of the forest took the bereaved and grief-stricken Kunti and the Pandavas
to Hastinapura and entrusted them to Bhishma.
Yudhishthira
was but sixteen years old at that time. When the sages came to Hastinapura and
reported the death of Pandu in the forest, the whole kingdom was plunged in
sorrow. Vidura, Bhishma, Vyasa, Dhritarashtra and others performed the funeral
rites.
All
the people in the kingdom lamented as at a personal loss. Vyasa said to
Satyavati, the grandmother: "The past has gone by pleasantly, but the
future has many sorrows in store. The world has passed its youth like a happy
dream and it is now entering on disillusionment, sin, sorrow and suffering.
Time is inexorable. You need not wait to see the miseries and misfortunes that
will befall this race. It will be good for you to leave the city and spend the
rest of your days in a hermitage in the forest." Satyavati agreed and went
to the forest with Ambika and Ambalika. These three aged queens passed through
holy asceticism to the higher regions of bliss and spared themselves the
sorrows of their children.
THE
five sons of Pandu and the hundred sons of Dhritarashtra grew up in mirth and
merriment at Hastinapura. Bhima excelled them all in physical prowess. He used
to bully Duryodhana and the other Kauravas by dragging them by the hair and
beating them.
A
great swimmer, he would dive, into pools, with one or more of them clasped
helpless in his arms, and remain under water till they were almost drowned.
Whenever they climbed up on a tree he would stand on the ground and kick at the
tree and shake them down like ripe fruits.
The
bodies of the sons of Dhritarashtra would be ever sore with bruises as a result
of Bhima's practical jokes. Small wonder that the sons of Dhritarashtra nursed
a deep hatred for Bhima from their very infancy.
As
the princes grew up. Kripacharya taught them archery and the practice of arms
and other things that princes should learn. Duryodhana's jealousy towards Bhima
warped his mind and made him commit many improper acts.
Duryodhana
was very much worried. His father being blind, the kingdom was ruled by Pandu.
After his death Yudhishthira, the heir-apparent, would in course of time become
king. Duryodhana thought that as his blind father was quite helpless he must,
to prevent Yudhishthira's accession to the throne, contrive a way of killing
Bhima.
He
made arrangements to carry out his resolve since he thought that the powers of
the Pandavas would decline with the death of Bhima.
Duryodhana
and his brothers planned to throw Bhima into the Ganges, imprison Arjuna and Yudhishthira,
and then seize the kingdom and rule it. So Duryodhana went with his brothers
and the Pandavas for a swim in the Ganges.
After
the sports they slept in their tents being exhausted. Bhima had exerted himself
more than the others and as his food had been poisoned, he felt drowsy and lay
down on the bank of the river. Duryodhana bound him with wild creepers and
threw him into the river.
The
evil Duryodhana had already caused sharp spikes to be planted on the spot. This
was done purposely so that Bhima might in falling be impaled on the spikes, and
lose his life. Fortunately there was no spike in the place where Bhima fell.
Poisonous water-snakes bit his body.
The
poisonous food he had taken was counteracted by the snake poison and Bhima came
to no harm, and presently, the river washed him to a bank.
Duryodhana
thought that Bhima must have died as he had been thrown in the river infested
with poisonous snakes and planted with spikes. So he returned to the city with
the rest of the party in great joy.
When
Yudhishthira inquired about the whereabouts of Bhima, Duryodhana informed him
that he had preceded them to the city.
Yudhishthira
believed Duryodhana and as soon as he returned home, asked his mother whether
Bhima had returned home.
His
anxious question brought forth the reply that Bhima had not yet returned, which
made Yudhishthira suspect some foul play against his brother. And he went again
with his brothers to the forest and searched everywhere. But Bhima could not be
found. They went back in great sorrow.
Sometime
later Bhima awoke and trudged wearily back home. Kunti and Yudhishthira
welcomed him and embraced him in great joy. By the poison that had entered his
system Bhima became stronger than before.
Kunti
sent for Vidura and told him in secret:
"Duryodhana
is wicked and cruel. He seeks to kill Bhima since he wants to rule the kingdom.
I am worried."
Vidura
replied: "What you say is true, but keep your thoughts to yourself. For if
the wicked Duryodhana is accused or blamed, his anger and hatred will only
increase. Your sons are blessed with long life. You need have no fear on that
account."
Yudhishthira
also warned Bhima and said: "Be silent over the matter. Hereafter, we have
to be careful and help one another and protect ourselves."
Duryodhana
was surprised to see Bhima come back alive. His jealousy and hatred increased.
He heaved a deep sigh and pined away in sorrow.
THE
Pandavas and the Kauravas learnt the practice of arms first from Kripacharya and later from Drona. A day
was fixed for a test and exhibition of their proficiency in the use of arms in
the presence of the royal family and as the public had also been invited to
witness the performance of their beloved princes. There was a large and
enthusiastic crowd.
Arjuna
displayed superhuman skill with his weapons and the vast assemblage was lost in
wonder and admiration. Duryodhana's brow was dark with envy and hate.
At
the close of the day, there came suddenly from the entrance of the arena a
sound, loud and compelling like thunder the sound made by the slapping of
mighty arms in challenge. All eyes turned in that direction. They saw enter
through the crowd, which made way in awed silence, a godlike youth from whom
light and power seemed to emanate. He looked proudly round him, cast a
negligent salute to Drona and Kripa, and strode up to Arjuna. The brothers, all
unaware, by the bitter irony of fate, of their common blood, faced one another;
for it was Karna.
Karna
addressed Arjuna in a voice deep as rumbling thunder: "Arjuna, I shall
show greater skill than you have displayed."
With
Drona's leave, Karna the lover of battle, then and there duplicated all of
Arjuna's feats with careless ease. Great was Duryodhana's exultation. He threw
his arms round Karna and said: "Welcome, O thou with mighty arms, whom
good fortune has sent to us. I and this kingdom of the Kurus are at your
command."
Said
Karna: "I, Karna, am grateful, O king. Only two things I seek, your love
and single combat with Partha."
Duryodhana
clasped Karna again to his bosom and said: "My prosperity is all thine to
enjoy."
As
love flooded Duryodhana's heart, even so did blazing wrath fill Arjuna, who
felt affronted. And glaring fiercely at Karna who stood, stately as a mountain
peak, receiving the greetings of the Kaurava brothers, he said: "O Karna,
slain by me thou shalt presently go to the hell appointed for those who intrude
uninvited and prate unbidden."
Karna
laughed in scorn: "This arena is open to all, O Arjuna, and not to you
alone. Might is the sanction of sovereignty and the law is based on it. But
what is the use of mere talk which is the weapon of the weak? Shoot arrows
instead of words."
Thus
challenged, Arjuna, with Drona's permission, hastily embraced his brothers and
stood ready for combat. While Karna, taking leave of the Kuru brothers,
confronted him weapon in hand.
And,
as though the divine parents of the heroes sought to encourage their offspring
and witness this fateful battle, Indra, the lord of the thunderclouds, and
Bhaskara of the in finite rays, simultaneously appeared in the heavens.
When
she saw Karna, Kunti knew him as her first born and fainted away. Vidura
instructed the maidservant to attend upon her and she revived. She stood
stupefied with anguish not knowing what to do.
As
they were about to join in battle, Kripa, well-versed in the rules of single
combat, stepped between them and addressed Karna:
"This
prince, who is ready to fight with thee, is the son of Pritha and Pandu and a
scion of the Kuru race. Reveal O mighty armed thy parentage and the race
rendered illustrious by thy birth. It is only after knowing thy lineage that
Partha can fight with thee, for high-born princes cannot engage in single
combat with unknown adventurers."
When
he heard these words, Karna bent down his head like a lotus under the weight of
rainwater.
Duryodhana
stood up and said: "If the combat cannot take place merely because Karna
is not a prince, why, that is easily remedied. I crown Karna as the king of
Anga." He then obtained the assent of Bhishma and Dhritarashtra, performed
all the necessary rites and invested Karna with the sovereignty of the kingdom
of Anga giving him the crown, jewels and other royal insignia.
At
that moment, as the combat between the youthful heroes seemed about to
commence, the old charioteer Adhiratha, who was the foster-father of Karna,
entered the assembly, staff in hand and quaking with fear.
No
sooner did he see him, that Karna, the newly crowned king of Anga, bowed his
head and did humble obeisance in all filial reverence. The old man called him
son, embraced him with his thin and trembling arms, and wept with joy wetting
with tears of love his head already moistened by the water of the coronation.
At
this sight, Bhima roared with laughter and said: "O he is after all only
the son of a charioteer! Take up the driving whip then as befits thy parentage.
Thou art not worthy of death at the hands of Arjuna. Nor shouldst thou reign in
Anga as a king."
At
this outrageous speech, Karna's lips trembled with anguish and he speechlessly
looked up at the setting sun with a deep sigh.
But
Duryodhana broke in indignantly:
"It
is unworthy of you, O Vrikodara, to speak thus. Valor is the hallmark of a
kshatriya. Nor is there much sense in tracing great heroes and mighty rivers to
their sources. I could give you hundreds of instances of great men of humble
birth and I know awkward questions might be asked of your own origin. Look at
this warrior, his godlike form and bearing, his armor and earrings, and his
skill with weapons. Surely there is some mystery about him. For how could a
tiger be born of an antelope? Unworthy of being king of Anga, didst thou say? I
verily hold him worthy to rule the whole world."
In
generous wrath, Duryodhana took Karna in his chariot and drove away.
The
sun set and the crowd dispersed in tumult. There were groups loud in talk under
the light of the lamps, some glorifying Arjuna, others Karna, and others again
Duryodhana according to their predilection.
Indra
foresaw that a supreme contest was inevitable between his son Arjuna and Karna.
And he put on the garb of a brahmana and came to Karna, who was reputed for his
charity and begged of him his earrings and armor. The Sun god had already
warned Karna in a dream that Indra would try to deceive him in this manner.
Still,
Karna could not bring himself to refuse any gift that was asked of him. Hence
he cut off the earrings and armor with which he was born and gave them to the
brahmana.
Indra,
the king of gods, was filled with surprise and joy. After accepting the gift, he
praised Karna as having done what no one else would do, and, shamed into
generosity, bade Karna ask for any boon he wanted.
Karna
replied: "I desire to get your weapon, the Sakti, which has the power to
kill enemies." Indra granted the boon, but with a fateful proviso. He
said: "You can use this weapon against but one enemy, and it will kill him
whosoever he may be. But this killing done, this weapon will no longer be
available to you but will return to me." With these words Indra
disappeared.
Karna
went to Parasurama and became his disciple by representing to him that he was a
brahmana. He learnt of Parasurama the mantra for using the master weapon known
as Brahmastra.
One
day Parasurama was reclining with the head on Karna's lap when a stinging worm
burrowed into Karna's thigh. Blood began to flow and the pain was terrible. But
Karna bore it without tremor lest he should disturb the master's sleep.
Parasurama awoke and saw the blood that had poured from the wound.
He
said: "Dear pupil, you are not a brahmana. A kshatriya alone can remain
unmoved under all bodily torments. Tell me the truth."
Karna
confessed that he had told a lie in presenting himself as a brahmana and that
he was in fact the son of a charioteer.
Parasurama
in his anger pronounced this curse on him: "Since you deceived your guru,
the Brahmastra you have learnt shall fail you at the fated moment. You will be
unable to recall the invocatory mantra when your hour comes."
It
was because of this curse that at the crisis of his last fight with Arjuna,
Karna was not able to recall the Brahmastra spell, though he had remembered it
till then. Karna was the faithful friend of Duryodhana and remained loyally
with the Kauravas until the end.
After
the fall of Bhishma and Drona, Karna became the leader of the Kaurava army and
fought brilliantly for two days. In the end, the wheel of his chariot stuck in
the ground and be was not able to lift it free and drive the chariot along.
While he was in this predicament, Arjuna killed him. Kunti was sunk in sorrow,
all the more poignant because she had, at that time, to conceal it.
DRONA,
the son of a brahmana named Bharadwaja, after completing his study of the Vedas
and the Vedangas, devoted himself to the art of archery and became a great
master.
Drupada,
the son of the king of Panchala, who was a friend of Bharadwaja, was a
fellow-student of Drona in the hermitage and there grew up between them the
generous intimacy of youth.
Drupada,
in his boyish enthusiasm, used often to tell Drona that he would give him half
his kingdom when he ascended the throne. After completing his studies, Drona
married the sister of Kripa, and a son Aswatthama was born to them.
Drona
was passionately attached to his wife and son, and, for their sake, desired to
acquire wealth, a thing that he had never cared for before. Learning that
Parasurama was distributing his riches among the brahmanas, he first went to
him. But he was too late as Parasurama had already given away all his wealth
and was about to retire to the forest.
But,
anxious to do something for Drona, Parasurama offered to teach him the use of
weapons, of which he was supreme master.
Drona
joyfully agreed, and great archer as he already was, he became unrivalled
master of the military art, worthy of eager welcome as preceptor in any
princely house in that warlike age.
Meanwhile,
Drupada had ascended the throne of Panchala on the death of his father.
Remembering their early intimacy and Drupada's expressions of readiness to
serve him, even to the extent of sharing his kingdom, Drona went to him in the
confident hope of being treated generously.
But
he found the king very different from the student. When he introduced himself
as an old friend, Drupada, far from being glad to see him, felt it an
intolerable presumption.
Drunk
with power and wealth, Drupada said: "O brahmana, how dare you address me
familiarly as your friend? What friendship can there be between a throned king
and a wandering beggar? What a fool must you be to presume on some long past
acquaintance to claim friend ship with a king who rules a kingdom? How can a
pauper be the friend of a wealthy man, or an ignorant boor of a learned
scholar, or a coward of a hero? Friendship can exist only between equals. A
vagrant beggar cannot be the friend of a sovereign." Drona was turned out
of the palace with scorn in his ears and a blazing wrath in his heart.
He
made a mental vow to punish the arrogant king for this insult and his
repudiation of the sacred claims of early friendship. His next move in search
of employment was to go to Hastinapura, where he spent a few days, in
retirement, in the house of his brother-in-law Kripacharya.
One
day, the princes were playing with a ball outside the precincts of the city,
and in the course of the game, the ball as well as Yudhishthira's ring fell
into a well. The princes had gathered round the well and saw the ring shining
from the bottom through the clear water. But could see no way of getting it out.
They did not however, notice that a brahmana of dark complexion stood nearby
watching them with a smile.
"Princes,"
he surprised them by saying, "you are the descendants of the heroic
Bharata race. Why cannot you take out the ball as anyone skilled in arms should
know how to do? Shall I do it for you?"
Yudhishthira
laughed and said in fun: "O brahmana, if you take out the ball, we will
see that you have a good meal in the house of Kripacharya." Then Drona the
brahmana stranger, took a blade of grass and sent it forth into the well after
reciting certain words of power for propelling it as an arrow.
The
blade of grass straightway sped and stuck into the ball. Afterwards he sent a
number of similar blades in succession which clinging together formed a chain,
wherewith Drona took out the ball.
The
princes were lost in amazement and delight and begged of him to get the ring
also. Drona borrowed a bow, fixed an arrow on the string and sent it right into
the ring. The arrow rebounding brought up the ring and the brahmana handed it
to the prince with a smile.
Seeing
these feats, the princes were astonished and said: "We salute you, O
brahmana. Who are you? Is there anything we can do for you?" and they
bowed to him.
He
said: "O princes, go to Bhishma and learn from him who I am."
From
the description given by the princes, Bhishma knew that the brahmana was none
other than the famous master Drona. He decided that Drona was the fittest
person to impart further instruction to the Pandavas and the Kauravas. So, Bhishma
received him with special honor and employed him to instruct the princes in the
use of arms.
As
soon as the Kauravas and the Pandavas had acquired mastery in the science of
arms, Drona sent Karna and Duryodhana to seize Drupada and bring him alive, in
discharge of the duty they owed to him as their master.
They
went as ordered by him, but could not accomplish their task. Then the master
sent forth Arjuna on the same errand. He defeated Drupada in battle and brought
him and his minister captives to Drona.
Then
Drona smilingly addressed Drupada: "Great king, do not fear for your life.
In our boyhood we were companions but you were pleased to forget it and
dishonor me. You told me that a king alone could be friend to a king. Now I am
a king, having conquered your kingdom. Still I seek to regain my friendship
with you, and so I give you half of your kingdom that has become mine by
conquest. Your creed is that friendship is possible only between equals. And we
shall now be equals, each owning a half of your kingdom."
Drona
thought this sufficient revenge for the insult he had suffered, set Drupada at
liberty and treated him with honor. Drupada's pride was thus humbled but, since
hate is never extinguished by retaliation, and few things are harder to bear
than the pangs of wounded vanity, hatred of Drona and a wish to be revenged on
him became the ruling passion of Drupada's life.
The
king performed tapas, underwent fasts and conducted sacrifices in order to win
the gratified gods to bless him with a son who should slay Drona and a daughter
who should wed Arjuna.
His
efforts were crowned with success with the birth of Dhrishtadyumna who
commanded the Pandava army at Kurukshetra and, helped by a strange combination
of circumstances, slew the otherwise unconquerable Drona, and birth of
Draupadi, the consort of the Pandavas.
THE
jealousy of Duryodhana began to grow at the sight of the physical strength of
Bhima and the dexterity of Arjuna. Karna and Sakuni became Duryodhana's evil
counsellors in planning wily stratagems.
As
for poor Dhritarashtra, he was a wise man no doubt and he also loved his
brother's sons, but he was weak of will and dotingly attached to his own
children. For his children's sake the worse became the better reason, and he
would sometimes even knowingly follow the wrong path.
Duryodhana
sought in various ways to kill the Pandavas. It was by means of the secret help
rendered by Vidura who wanted to save the family from a great sin, that the
Pandavas escaped with their lives.
One
unforgivable offence of the Pandavas in the eyes of Duryodhana was that the
people of the city used to praise them openly and declare in season and out of
season that Yudhishthira alone was fit to be the king.
They
would flock together and argue:
"Dhritarashtra
could never be king for he was born blind. It is not proper that he should now
hold the kingdom in his hands. Bhishma cannot be king either, because he is
devoted to truth and to his vow that he would not be a king. Hence Yudhishthira
alone should be crowned as king. He alone can rule the Kuru race and the
kingdom with justice." Thus people talked everywhere. These words were
poison to Duryodhana's ears, and made him writhe and burn with jealousy.
He
went to Dhritarashtra and complained bitterly of the public talk: "Father,
the citizens babble irrelevant nonsense. They have no respect even for such
venerable persons as Bhishma and yourself. They say that Yudhishthira should be
immediately crowned king. This would bring disaster on us. You were set aside
because of your blindness, and your brother became the king. If Yudhishthira is
to succeed his father, where do we come? What chance has our progeny? After
Yudhishthira his son, and his son's son, and then his son will be the kings. We
will sink into poor relations dependent on them even for our food. To live in
hell would be better than that!"
At
these words, Dhritarashtra began to ponder and said: "Son, what you say is
true. Still Yudhishthira will not stray from the path of virtue. He loves all.
He has truly inherited all the excellent virtues of his deceased father. People
praise him and will support him, and all the ministers of the State and
commanders of armies, to whom Pandu had endeared himself by his nobility of
character, will surely espouse his cause. As for the people, they idolise the
Pandavas. We cannot oppose them with any chance of success. If we do injustice,
the citizens will rise in insurrection and either kill us or expel us. We shall
only cover ourselves with ignominy."
Duryodhana
replied: "Your fears are baseless. Bhishma will at worst be neutral, while
Ashwatthama is devoted to me, which means that his father Drona and uncle Kripa
will also be on our side. Vidura cannot openly oppose us, if for no other
reason, because he has not the strength. Send the Pandavas immediately to
Varanavata. I tell you the solemn truth that my cup of suffering is full and I
can bear no more. It pierces my heart and renders me sleepless and makes my
life a torment. After sending the Pandavas to Varanavata we shall try to strengthen
our party."
Later,
some politicians were prevailed upon to join Duryodhana's party and advise the
king in the matter. Kanika, the minister of Sakuni, was their leader. "O
king," he said, "guard yourselves against the sons of Pandu, for
their goodness and influence are a menace to you and yours. The Pandavas are
the sons of your brother, but the nearer the kin, the closer and deadlier the
danger. They are very strong."
Sakuni's
minister continued: "Be not wroth with me if I say a king should be mighty
in action as in name, for nobody will believe in strength which is never
displayed. State affairs should be kept secret and the earliest indication to
the public, of a wise plan, should be its execution. Also, evils must be
eradicated promptly for a thorn which has been allowed to remain in the body
may cause a festering wound. Powerful enemies should be destroyed and even a
weak foe should not be neglected since a mere spark, if over looked, may cause
a forest fire. A strong enemy should be destroyed by means of stratagem and it
would be folly to show mercy to him. O king, guard yourself against the sons of
Pandu. They are very powerful."
Duryodhana
told Dhritarashtra of his success in securing adherents: "I have bought
the goodwill of the king's attendants with gifts of wealth and honor. I have
won over his ministers to our cause. If you will adroitly prevail upon the
Pandavas to go to Varanavata, the city and the whole kingdom will take our
side. They will not have a friend left here. Once the kingdom has become ours,
there will be no power for harm left in them, and it may even be possible to
let them come back."
When
many began to say what he himself wished to believe, Dhritarashtra's mind was
shaken and he yielded to his sons' counsels. It only remained to give effect to
the plot.
The
ministers began to praise the beauty of Varanavata in the hearing of the
Pandavas and made mention of the fact that a great festival in honor of Siva
would be conducted there with all pomp and splendor.
The
unsuspecting Pandavas were easily persuaded, especially when Dhritarashtra also
told them in tones of great affection that they should certainly go and witness
the festivities, not only because they were worth seeing but because the people
of the place were eager to welcome them.
The
Pandavas took leave of Bhishma and other elders and went to Varanavata.
Duryodhana was elated. He plotted with Karna and Sakuni to kill Kunti and her
sons at Varanavata. They sent for Purochana, a minister, and gave him secret
instructions which he bound himself to carry out faithfully.
Before
the Pandavas proceeded to Varanavata, Purochana, true to his instructions,
hastened to the spot well in advance and had a beautiful palace built for their
reception. Combustible materials like jute, lac, ghee, oil, and fat were used
in the construction of the palace. The materials for the plastering of the
walls were also inflammable. He skilfully filled up various parts of the
building with dry things that could catch fire easily, and had inviting seats
and bedsteads disposed at the most combustible places.
Every
convenience was furnished for the Pandavas to dwell in the city without fear,
until the palace was built. When the Pandavas had settled down in the wax
house, the idea was to set fire to it at night when they were sound asleep.
The
ostentatious love and solicitude with which the Pandavas had been received and
treated would obviate all suspicion and the fire would be taken as a sad case
of pure accident. No one would dream of blaming the Kauravas.
15. The Escape Of The Pandavas
AFTER
taking reverential leave of the elders and embracing their comrades, the
Pandavas proceeded to Varanavata. The citizens accompanied them a part of their
way and returned unwillingly to the city. Vidura pointedly warned Yudhishthira
in words intelligible only to the prince:
"He
alone will escape from danger who forestalls the intentions of an astute enemy.
There are weapons sharper than those made of steel. And the wise man who would
escape destruction must know the means to guard against them. The conflagration
that devastates a forest cannot hurt a rat which shelters itself in a hole or a
porcupine which burrows in the earth. The wise man knows his bearings by
looking at the stars."
Though
they had started on their journey in sunshine of joy, they now proceeded in a
dark cloud of sorrow and anxiety.
The
people of Varanavata were very happy to learn of the coming of the Pandavas to
their city and welcomed them. After a brief stay in other houses while the
palace specially meant for them was being got ready, they moved into it under
Purochana's guidance.
It
was named "Sivam" which means prosperity, and that was the name
which, in ghastly irony, was given to the deathtrap. Yudhishthira diligently
examined the whole place bearing in mind Vidura's warning and verified that the
building was without a shadow of doubt constructed with combustible material.
Yudhishthira
told Bhima: "Though we know very well that the palace is a trap of death,
we should not make Purochana suspect that we know his plot. We should get away
at the right moment but escape would be difficult if we gave room for any
suspicion."
So
they stayed in that house to all appearance free from care. Meanwhile, Vidura
had sent an expert miner who met them in secret and said: "My password is
the veiled warning Vidura gave you. I have been sent to help you for your
protection."
This
was meant to indicate to Yudhishthira and to him alone, Duryodhana's hideous
plot and the means of escape from danger. Yudhishthira answered that he had
grasped Vidura's meaning, and later he communicated it to Kuntidevi.
Henceforward
the miner worked for many days in secret, unknown to Purochana, and completed a
subterranean egress from the wax house right under and across the walls and the
moat, which ran round the precincts.
Purochana
had his quarters at the gateway of the palace. The Pandavas kept armed vigil
during night, but by day they used to go out hunting in the forest, to all
appearance bent on pleasure but really to make themselves familiar with the
forest paths.
As
has already been said, they carefully kept to themselves their knowledge of the
wicked plot against their lives. On his side Purochana, anxious to lull all
suspicion and make the murderous fire seem an accident, waited fully a year
before putting the plot into effect.
At
last Purochana felt he had waited long enough. And the watchful Yudhishthira,
knowing that the fated moment had arrived, called his brothers together and
told them that now or never was the time for them to escape.
Kuntidevi
arranged a sumptuous feast for the attendants that day. Her idea was to lull
them to well-fed sleep at night.
At
midnight, Bhima set fire to the palace in several places. Kuntidevi and the
Pandava brothers hurried out through the subterranean passage, groping their
way out in the darkness. Presently, there was a roaring fire all over the
palace and a fast swelling crowd of frightened citizens all around in loud and
helpless lamentation.
Some
bustled aimlessly in futile efforts to put out the conflagration and all joined
in the cry: "Alas! Alas! This surely is Duryodhana's work, and he is
killing the sinless Pandavas!"
The
palace was reduced to ashes. Purochana's residence was enveloped in flames
before he could escape and he fell an unpitied victim to his own wicked plot.
The
people of Varanavata, sent the following message to Hastinapura: "The
palace which was the abode of the Pandavas has burnt down and no one in it
escaped alive."
Vyasa
has beautifully described the then mental state of Dhritarashtra: "Just as
the water of a deep pool is cool at the bottom and warm on the surface, so the
heart of Dhritarashtra was at once warm with joy and chilled with sorrow."
Dhritarashtra
and his sons cast off their royal garments in token of mourning for the
Pandavas whom they believed consumed in the fire. They dressed themselves in
single garments as became sorrowful kinsmen and went to the river and performed
the propitiatory funeral rites.
No
outward show of heart broken bereavement was omitted. It was noticed by some
that Vidura was not so overcome by sorrow as the others and this was set down
to his philosophical bent of mind. But the real reason was that he knew that
the Pandavas had escaped to safety.
When
he looked sad, he was in fact following with his mind's eye the weary
wanderings of the Pandavas. Seeing that Bhishma was sunk in sorrow, Vidura
secretly comforted him by revealing to him the story of their successful
escape.
Bhima
saw that his mother and brothers were exhausted by their nightly vigils as well
as by fear and anxiety. He therefore carried his mother on his shoulders and
took Nakula and Sahadeva on his hips, supporting Yudhishthira and Arjuna with
his two hands.
Thus
heavily laden, he strode effortlessly like a lordly elephant forcing his way
through the forest and pushing aside the shrubs and trees that obstructed his
path.
When
they reached the Ganges, there was a boat ready for them in charge of a boatman
who knew their secret. They crossed the river in the darkness, and entering a
mighty forest they went on at night in darkness that wrapped them like a shroud
and in a silence broken hideously by the frightful noises of wild animals.
At
last, quite fordone by toil, they sat down unable to bear the pangs of thirst
and overcome by the drowsiness of sheer fatigue. Kuntidevi said: "I do not
care even if the sons of Dhritarashtra are here to seize me, but I must stretch
my legs." She forthwith laid herself down and was sunk in sleep.
Bhima
forced his way about the tangled forest in search of water in the darkness. And
finding a pool, he wetted his upper garment, made cups of lotus leaves and
brought water to his mother and brothers who were perishing with thirst.
Then,
while the others slept in merciful forgetfulness of their woes, Bhima alone sat
awake absorbed in deep thought. "Do not the plants and the creepers of the
forest mutually help each other and live in peace?" he reflected;
"why should the wicked Dhritarashtra and Duryodhana try to injure us in
these ways?" Sinless himself, Bhima could not understand the springs of
sinfulness in others and was lost in grief.
The
Pandavas marched on, suffering many hardships and overcoming many dangers. Part
of the way, they would carry their mother to make better speed. Sometimes, tired
beyond even heroic endurance, they would pause and rest. Sometimes, full of
life and the glorious strength of youth, they would race with each other.
They
met Bhagavan Vyasa on the way. All of them bowed before him and received
encouragement and wise counsel from him.
When
Kunti told him of the sorrows that had befallen them, Vyasa consoled her with
these words: "No virtuous man is strong enough to live in virtue at all
times, nor is any sinner bad enough to exist in one welter of sin. Life is a
tangled web and there is no one in the world who has not done both good and
evil. Each and everyone has to bear the consequence of his actions. Do not give
way to sorrow."
Then
they put on the garb of brahmanas, as advised by Vyasa, went to the city of
Ekachakra and stayed there in a brahmana's house, waiting for better days.
IN
the city of Ekachakra, the Pandavas stayed in the guise of brahmanas, begging
their food in the brahmana streets and bringing what they got to their mother,
who would wait anxiously till their return. If they did not come back in time,
she would be worried, fearing that some evil might have befallen them.
Kunti
would divide the food they brought in two equal portions. One half would go to
Bhima. The other half would be shared by the other brothers and the mother.
Bhima, being born of the Wind god had great strength and a mighty appetite.
Vrikodara,
one of the names of Bhima, means wolf-bellied, and a wolf, you know, looks
always famished. And however much it might eat, its hunger is never quite
satisfied.
Bhima's
insatiable hunger and the scanty food he used to get at Ekachakra went ill
together. And he daily grew thin, which caused much distress to his mother and
brothers. Sometime later, Bhima became acquainted with a potter for whom he
helped and fetched clay. The potter, in return, presented him with a big
earthen pot that became an object of merriment to the street urchins.
One
day, when the other brothers had gone to beg for alms, Bhimasena stayed behind
with his mother, and they heard loud lamentations from the house of their
brahmana landlord. Some great calamity surely had befallen the poor family and
Kunti went inside to learn what it was.
The
brahmana and his wife could hardly speak for weeping, but, at last the brahmana
said to his wife: "O unfortunate and foolish woman, though time and again
I wished we should leave this city for good, you would not agree. You persisted
in saying that you were born and bred here and here you would stay where your
parents and relations had lived and died. How can I think of losing you who
have been to me at once my life's mate, loving mother, the wife who bore my
children, nay, my all in all? I cannot send you to death while I keep myself
alive. This little girl has been given to us by God as a trust to be handed
over in time to a worthy man. It is unrighteous to sacrifice her who is a gift
of God to perpetuate the race. It is equally impossible to allow this other,
our son, to be killed. How can we live after consigning to death our only
solace in life and our hope for the here after? If he is lost, who would pour
libations for us and our ancestors? Alas! You did not pay heed to my words, and
this is the deadly fruit of your perversity. If I give up my life, this girl
and boy will surely die soon for want of a protector. What shall I do? It is
best that all of us perish together" and the brahmana burst forth sobbing.
The
wife replied: "I have been a good wife to you, and done my duty by bearing
you a daughter and a son. You are able, and I am not, to bring up and protect
your children. Just as cast out offal is pounced upon and seized by rapacious
birds, a poor widowed woman is an easy prey to wicked and dishonest people.
Dogs fight for a cloth wet with ghee, and in pulling it hither and thither in
unclean greed, tear it into foul rags. It would be best if I am handed over to
the Rakshasa. Blessed indeed is the woman who passes to the other world, while
her husband is alive. This, as you know, is what the scriptures say. Bid me
farewell. Take care of my children. I have been happy with you. I have
performed many meritorious actions. By my faithful devotion to you, I am sure
of heaven. Death has no terror for one who has been a good wife. After I am
gone, take another wife. Gladden me with a brave smile, give me your blessing,
and send me to the Rakshasa."
Hearing
these words of his wife, the brahmana tenderly embraced her and, utterly
overcome by her love and courage, he wept like a child. When he could find his
voice, he replied: "O beloved and noble one, what words are these? Can I
bear to live without you? The first duty of a married man is to protect his
wife. I should indeed be a pitiful sinner if I lived after giving you up to the
Rakshasa, sacrificing both love and duty."
The
daughter who was hearing this piteous conversation, now interposed with sobs:
"Listen to me, child though I be, and then do what is proper. It is me
alone that you can spare to the Rakshasa. By sacrificing one soul, that is,
myself, you can save the others. Let me be the little boat to take you across
this river of calamity. In like manner, a woman without a guardian becomes the
sport of wicked people who drag her hither and thither. It is impossible for me
to protect two fatherless orphans and they will perish miserably like fish in a
waterless pond. If both of you pass away, both I and this little baby brother
of mine will soon perish unprotected in this hard world. If this family of ours
can be saved from destruction by my single death, what a good death mine would
be! Even if you consider my welfare alone, you should send me to the
Rakshasa."
At
these brave words of the poor child, the parents tenderly embraced her and
wept. Seeing them all in tears the boy, hardly more than a baby, started up
with glowing eyes, lisping: "Father, do not weep. Mother, do not weep.
Sister, do not weep," and he went to each and sat on their lap by turns.
Then
he rose up took a stick of firewood and brandishing it about, said in his sweet
childish treble: "I shall kill the Rakshasa with this stick." The
child's action and speech made them smile in the midst of their tears, but only
added to their great sorrow.
Feeling
this was the moment for intervention, Kuntidevi entered and inquired for the
cause of their sorrow and whether there was anything she could do to help them.
The
brahmana said: "Mother, this is a sorrow far beyond your aid. There is a
cave near the city, where lives a cruel and terribly strong Rakshasa named
Bakasura. He forcibly seized this city and kingdom thirteen years ago. Since
then he has held us in cruel thraldom. The kshatriya ruler of this country has
fled to the city of Vetrakiya and is unable to protect us. This Rakshasa
formerly used to issue from his cave whenever he liked and, mad with hunger,
indiscriminately kill and eat men, women and children in this city. The
citizens prayed to the Rakshasa to come to some sort of stipulation in place of
this promiscuous slaughter. They prayed: 'Do not kill us wantonly at your whim
and pleasure. Once a week we shall bring you sufficient meat, rice, curds and
intoxicating liquors and many other delicacies. We will deliver these to you in
a carriage drawn by two bullocks driven by a human being taken from each house
in turn. You can make a repast of the rice, along with the bullocks and the
man, but refrain from this mad orgy of slaughter.' The Rakshasa agreed to the
proposal. From that day, this strong Rakshasa has been protecting this kingdom
from foreign raids and wild beasts. This arrangement has been in force for many
years. No hero has been found to free this country from this pest, for the
Rakshasa has invariably defeated and killed all the brave men who tried. Mother,
our legitimate sovereign is unable to protect us. The citizens of a country,
whose king is weak, should not marry and beget children. A worthy family life,
with culture and domestic happiness, is possible only under the rule of a good,
strong king. Wife, wealth and other things are not safe, if there be no proper
king ruling over us. And having long suffered with the sight of others' sorrow,
our own turn has come now to send a person as prey to the Rakshasa. I have not
the means to purchase a substitute. None of us can bear to live after sending
one of us to a cruel death, and so I shall go with my whole family to him. Let
the wicked glutton gorge himself with all of us. I have pained you with these
things, but you wished to know. Only God can help us, but we have lost all hope
even of that."
The
political truths contained in this story of Ekachakra are noteworthy and
suggestive. Kunti talked the matter over with Bhimasena and returned to the
brahmana. She said: "Good man, do not despair. God is great. I have five
sons. One of them will take the food to the Rakshasa."
The
brahmana jumped up in amazed surprise, but then shook his head sadly and would
not hear of the substituted sacrifice. Kunti said: "O brahmana, do not be
afraid. My son is endowed with superhuman powers derived from mantras and will
certainly kill this Rakshasa, as I have myself seen him kill many other such
Rakshasas. But keep this a secret, for, if you reveal it, his power will come
to naught."
Kunti's
fear was that, if the story got noised abroad, Duryodhana's men would see the
hand of the Pandavas, and find out their where abouts. Bhima was filled with
unbounded joy and enthusiasm at the arrangement made by Kunti.
The
other brothers returned to the house with alms. Dharmaputra saw the face of
Bhimasena radiant with joy to which it had long been a stranger and inferred
that he was resolved on some hazardous adventure and questioned Kunti who told
him everything.
Yudhishthira
said: "What is this? Is not this rash and thoughtless? Relying on Bhima's
strength we sleep without care or fear. It is not through Bhima's strength and
daring that we hope to regain the kingdom that has been seized by our deceitful
enemies? Was it not through the prowess of Bhima that we escaped from the wax
palace? And you are risking the life of Bhima who is our present protection and
future hope. I fear your many trials have clouded your judgment!"
Kuntidevi
replied: "Dear sons, we have lived happily for many years in the house of
this brahmana. Duty, nay, man's highest virtue, is to repay the benefit he has
enjoyed by doing good in his turn. I know the heroism of Bhima and have no
fears. Remember who carried us from Varanavata and who killed the demon
Hidimba. It is our duty to be of service to this brahmana family."
After
a fierce battle, the Rakshasa Bakasura was slain by Bhima who pretended to
bring him a cartload of food.
WHILE
the Pandavas were living in disguise as brahmanas at Ekachakrapura, news of the
swayamvara of Draupadi, the daughter of Drupada, King of Panchala, reached
them. Many brahmanas of Ekachakrapura planned to go to Panchala in the hope of
receiving the customary gifts and to see the festivities and pageant of a royal
wedding. Kunti, with her motherly instinct, read her sons' desire to go to
Panchala and win Draupadi. So she told Yudhishthira: "We have been in this
city so long that it is time to think of going somewhere else. We have seen
these hills and dales till we are tired of them. The alms doled out to us are diminishing
and it is not good to outstay your entertainment. Let us therefore go to
Drupada's kingdom which is reputed to be fair and prosperous." Kunti was
second to none in worldly wisdom and sagacity and could gracefully divine her
sons' thoughts and spare them the awkwardness of expressing them.
The
brahmanas went in groups to witness the swayamvara and the Pandavas mingled
with them in the guise of brahmanas. After a long march the party reached the
beautiful city of Drupada and billeted themselves in the house of a potter as
obscure brahmanas of no note.
Though
Drupada and Drona were outwardly at peace, the former never could forget or
forgive the humiliation he had suffered at the latter's hands. Drupada's one
wish was to give his daughter in marriage to Arjuna.
Drona
loved Arjuna so dearly that he could hardly look upon his pupil's father-in-law
as his deadly foe. And if there were a war, Drupada would be all the stronger
for being Arjuna's father-in-law. When he heard the news of the destruction of
the Pandavas at Varanavata, he was plunged in sorrow but was relieved by a
later rumour that they had escaped.
The
marriage hall was beautifully decorated and built amidst a finely laid out
group of new guest-houses designed to accommodate the swayamvara suitors and
guests. Attractive sights and sports had been arranged for public entertainment
and there were glorious festivities for fourteen days continuously.
A
mighty steel bow was placed in the marriage hall. The candidate for the
princess' hand was required to string the bow and with it shoot a steel arrow
through the central aperture of a revolving disk at a target placed on high.
This
required almost superhuman strength and skill, and Drupada proclaimed that the
hero who would win his daughter should perform this feat. Many valiant princes
had gathered there from all parts of Bharatavarsha. The sons of Dhritarashtra
were there as well as Karna, Krishna, Sisupala, Jarasandha, and Salya.
Besides
the competitors there was a huge concourse of spectators and visitors. The
noise that issued therefrom resembled the uproar of the ocean and over it all
arose the auspicious sound of festal music from hundreds of instruments.
Dhrishtadyumna
on horseback rode in front of his sister Draupadi seated on an elephant. Fresh
from her auspicious bridal bath, and clad in flowing silk Draupadi dismounted
and entered the swayamvara hall, seeming to fill it with the sweetness of her
presence and perfect beauty.
Garland
in hand, and coyly glancing at the valiant princes, who for their part looked
at her in speechless admiration, she ascended the dais. The brahmanas repeated
the usual mantras and offered oblations in the fire. After the peace invocation
had been chanted and the flourish of music had stopped, Dhrishtadyumna took
Draupadi by the hand and led her to the center of the hall.
Then
he proclaimed in loud, clear tones: "Hear ye, O princes seated in state in
this assembly, here is the bow. There is the target and here are the arrows. He
who sends five arrows in succession through the hole of the wheel and
unerringly hits the target, if he also be of good family and presence, shall
win my sister." Then he narrated to Draupadi the name, ancestry and
description of the several suitors assembled there.
Many
noted princes rose one after another and tried in vain to string the bow. It
was too heavy and stiff for them, and they returned to their places abashed and
ashamed.
Sisupala,
Jarasandha, Salya, and Duryodhana were among these unsuccessful aspirants. When
Karna came forward, all the assemblage expected that he would be successful but
he failed by just a hair's breadth and the string slid back flashing and the
mighty bow jumped out of his hands like a thing of life.
There
was great clamor and angry talk, some even saying that it was an impossible
test put up to shame the kings. Then all noises were hushed, for there arose
from among the group of brahmanas a youth who advanced towards the bow.
It
was Arjuna who had come disguised as a brahmana. When he stood up; wild clamor
burst forth again from the crowd. The
brahmanas themselves were divided in opinion. Some being highly delighted that
there should be among them a lad of mettle enough to compete, while others more
envious or worldly wise, said what impudence it was for this brahmacharin to
enter the lists when heroes like Karna, Salya, and others had met with failure.
But
there were others again who spoke differently as they noted the noble and
shapely proportions of the youth. They said: "We feel from his appearance
that he is going to win. He looks sure of himself and he certainly knows what
he is about. The brahmana may be physically weaker, but is it all a matter of
brute strength? What about the power of austerities? Why should he not
try?" And they blessed him.
Arjuna
approached the place where the bow lay and asked Dhrishtadyumna: "Can a
brahmana try to bend the bow?"
Dhrishtadyumna
answered: "O best of brahmanas, my sister will become the life-mate of any
one of good family and presence, who bends the bow and shoots the target. My
words stand and there will be no going back on them."
Then
Arjuna meditated on Narayana, the Supreme God, and took the bow in his hand and
strung it with ease. He placed an arrow on the string and looked around him
with a smile, while the crowd was lost in spellbound silence.
Then
without pause or hesitation he shot five arrows in succession through the
revolving mechanism right into the target so that it fell down. The crowd was
in tumult and there was a blare of musical instruments.
The
brahmanas who were seated in the assembly in large numbers sent forth shouts of
joy, waving aloft their deer-skins in exultation as though the whole community
had won Draupadi. The uproar that followed was indescribable.
Draupadi
shone with a fresh beauty. Her face glowed with happiness which streamed out of
her eyes as she looked on Arjuna. She approached him and placed the garland on
his neck. Yudhishthira, Nakula, and Sahadeva returned in haste to the potter's
house to convey the glad news immediately to their mother.
Bhima
alone remained in the assembly fearing that some danger might befall Arjuna
from the kshatriyas. As anticipated by Bhima, the princes were loud in wrath.
They said: "The practice of swayamvara, the choosing of a bridegroom, is
not prevalent among the brahmanas. If this maiden does not care to marry a
prince, she should remain a virgin and burn herself on the pyre. How can a
brahmana marry her? We should oppose this marriage and prevent it so as to
protect righteousness and save the practice of swayamvara from the peril which
threatens it." A free fight seemed imminent.
Bhima
plucked a tree by the roots, and stripping it of foliage, stood armed with this
formidable bludgeon, by the side of Arjuna ready for any event. Draupadi said
nothing but stood holding on to the skirts of the deer-skin in which Arjuna was
clad.
Krishna,
Balarama and others sought to appease those who had created the confusion.
Arjuna proceeded to the house of the potter accompanied by Draupadi.
As
Bhima and Arjuna were taking Draupadi to their temporary abode, Dhrishtadyumna
followed them at a distance, and, unseen by them, closely observed everything
that took place there. He was amazed and delighted at what he saw, and
returning, he secretly told King Drupada: "Father, I think they are the
Pandavas. Draupadi accompanied them, holding to the skirts of the deer-skin of
that youth and she was not at all abashed. I also followed and I saw all five
and a venerable and august lady who, I have no doubt, is Kunti herself."
Invited
by Drupada Kunti and the Pandavas went to the palace. Dharmaputra confided to
the king that they were the Pandavas. He also informed him of their decision to
marry Draupadi in common.
Drupada
rejoiced at knowing that they were the Pandavas, which set at rest all anxiety
regarding the enmity of Drona. But he was surprised and disgusted when he heard
that they would jointly marry Draupadi.
Drupada
opposed this and said: "How unrighteous! How did this idea get into your
head, this immoral idea that goes against the traditional usage?"
Yudhishthira
answered: "O king, kindly excuse us. In a time of great peril we vowed
that we would share all things in common and we cannot break that pledge. Our
mother has commanded us so." Finally Drupada yielded and the marriage was
celebrated.
WHEN
news of the incidents that took place during the swayamvara at Panchala reached
Hastinapura, Vidura was happy. He immediately went to Dhritarashtra and said:
"O King, our family has become stronger because the daughter of Drupada
has become our daughter-in-law. Our stars are good."
Dhritarashtra
thought in his blind fondness for his son that it was Duryodhana, who had also
gone to take part in the swayamvara, that had won Draupadi. Under this mistaken
impression he replied: "It is indeed, as you say, a good time for us. Go
at once and bring Draupadi. Let us give Panchali a joyous welcome."
Vidura
hastened to correct the mistake. He said: "The blessed Pandavas are alive
and it is Arjuna who has won the daughter of Drupada. The five Pandavas have
married her jointly according to the rites enjoined by the sastras. With their
mother Kuntidevi they are happy and well under the care of Drupada."
At
these words of Vidura, Dhritarashtra felt frustrated but concealed his
disappointment. He said to Vidura with apparent joy: "O Vidura, I am
delighted at your words. Are the dear Pandavas really alive? We have been
mourning them as dead! The news you have now brought is balm to my heart. So
the daughter of Drupada has become our daughter-in-law. Well, well, very
good."
Duryodhana's
jealousy and hatred redoubled when he found that the Pandavas had somehow
escaped from the wax palace and after spending a year incognito had now become
even more powerful on account of the alliance with the mighty king of Panchala.
Duryodhana and his brother Duhsasana went to their uncle Sakuni and said in
sorrow: "Uncle, we are undone. We have been let down by relying on
Purochana. Our enemies, the Pandavas, are cleverer than ourselves, and fortune
also seems to favor them. Dhrishtadyumna and Sikhandin have become their
allies. What can we do?"
Karna
and Duryodhana went to the blind Dhritarashtra. Duryodhana said: "You told
Vidura that better days were ahead of us. Is it good time for us that our
natural enemies, the Pandavas, have so waxed in strength that they will
certainly destroy us? We could not carry out our plot against them and the fact
that they know about it is an added danger. It has now come to this, either we must
destroy them here and now or we shall ourselves perish. Favor us with your
counsel in this matter."
Dhritarashtra
replied: "Dear son, what you say is true. We should not, however, let
Vidura know our mind. That was why I spoke to him in that manner. Let me now
hear your suggestions as to what we should do."
Duryodhana
said: "I feel so distracted that no plan occurs to me. Perhaps, we may
take advantage of the fact that these Pandavas are not born of one and the same
mother and create enmity between the sons of Madri and those of Kunti. We can
also try to bribe Drupada into joining our side. That he has given away his
daughter in marriage to the Pandavas will not stand in the way of our making
him an ally. There is nothing that cannot be accomplished by the power of
wealth."
Karna
smiled and said: "This is but futile talk."
Duryodhana
continued: "We should somehow make sure that the Pandavas do not come here
and demand of us the kingdom that is now in our possession. We may commission a
few brahmanas to spread convenient rumours in Drupada's city and severally tell
the Pandavas that they would meet with great danger if they were to go to
Hastinapura. Then the Pandavas would fear to come here and we shall be safe,
from them."
Karna
replied: "This too is idle talk. You cannot frighten them that way."
Duryodhana
continued: "Can we not create discord among the Pandavas by means of
Draupadi? Her polyandrous marriage is very convenient for us. We shall arouse
doubts and jealousies in their minds through the efforts of experts in the
science of erotics. We shall certainly succeed. We can get a beautiful woman to
beguile some of the sons of Kunti and thus make Draupadi turn against them. If
Draupadi begins to suspect any of them, we can invite him to Hastinapura and
use him so that our plan prospers."
Karna
laughed this also to scorn. He said: "None of your proposals is any good.
You cannot conquer the Pandavas by stratagem. When they were here and were like
immature birds with undeveloped wings, we found we could not deceive them, and
you think we can deceive them now, when they have acquired experience and are
moreover under the protection of Drupada. They have seen through your designs.
Stratagems will not do hereafter. You cannot sow dissensions among them. You cannot
bribe the wise and honorable Drupada. He will not give up the Pandavas on any
account. Draupadi also can never be turned against them. Therefore, there is
only one way left for us, and that is to attack them before they grow stronger
and other friends join them. We should make a surprise attack on the Pandavas
and Drupada before Krishna joins them with his Yadava army. We should take the
heroic way out of our difficulty, as befits kshatriyas. Trickery will prove
useless." Thus spoke Karna. Dhritarashtra could not make up his mind. The
king, therefore, sent for Bhishma and Drona and consulted them.
Bhishma
was very happy when he heard that the Pandavas were alive and well as guests of
King Drupada of Panchala, whose daughter they had married. Consulted on the
steps to be taken, Bhishma, wise with the ripe knowledge of right and wrong,
replied:
"The
proper course will be to welcome them back and give them half the kingdom. The
citizens of the state also desire such a settlement. This is the only way to maintain
the dignity of our family. There is much loose talk not creditable to you about
the fire incident at the wax house. All blame, even all suspicion, will be set
at rest if you invite the Pandavas and hand over half kingdom to them. This is
my advice."
Drona
also gave the same counsel and suggested sending a proper messenger to bring
about an amicable settlement and establish peace.
Karna
flew into a rage at this suggestion. He was very much devoted to Duryodhana and
could not at all bear the idea of giving a portion of the kingdom to the
Pandavas. He told Dhritarashtra:
"I
am surprised that Drona, who has received wealth and honors at your hands, has
made such a suggestion. A king should examine critically the advice of his
ministers before accepting or rejecting it."
At
these words of Karna, Drona, his old eyes full of anger, said: "O wicked
man, you are advising the king to go on the wrong path. If Dhritarashtra does
not do what Bhishma and myself have advised, the Kauravas will certainly meet
with destruction in the near future."
Then
Dhritarashtra sought the advice of Vidura who replied:
"The
counsel given by Bhishma, the head of our race, and Drona, the master, is wise
and just and should not be disregarded. The Pandavas are also your children like
Duryodhana and his brothers. You should realise that those who advise you to
injure the Pandavas are really bent upon the destruction of the race. Drupada
and his sons as well as Krishna and the Yadavas are staunch allies of the
Pandavas. It is impossible to defeat them in battle. Karna's advice is foolish
and wrong. It is reported abroad that we tried to kill the Pandavas in the wax
house, and we should first of all try to clear ourselves of the blame. The
citizens and the whole country are delighted to know that the Pandavas are
alive and they desire to see them once again. Do not listen to the words of
Duryodhana. Karna and Sakuni are but raw youths, ignorant of statesmanship and
incompetent to advise. Follow Bhishma's advice."
In
the end Dhritarashtra determined to establish peace by giving half the kingdom
to the sons of Pandu. He sent Vidura to the kingdom of Panchala to fetch the
Pandavas and Draupadi.
Vidura
went to the city of King Drupada in a speedy vehicle taking along with him many
kinds of jewels and other valuable presents.
Vidura
rendered due honor to King Drupada and requested him on behalf of Dhritarashtra
to send the Pandavas with Panchali to Hastinapura.
Drupada
mistrusted Dhritarashtra, but he merely said: "The Pandavas may do as they
like."
Vidura
went to Kuntidevi and prostrated himself before her. She said: "Son of
Vichitravirya, you saved my sons. They are, therefore, your children. I trust
you. I shall do as you advise." She was also suspicious of Dhritarashtra's
intentions.
Vidura
thus assured her: "Your children will never meet with destruction. They
will inherit the kingdom and acquire great renown. Come, let us go." At
last Drupada also gave his assent and Vidura returned to Hastinapura with the
Pandavas, Kunti, and Draupadi.
In
jubilant welcome of the beloved princes who were returning home after long
years of exile and travail, the streets of Hastinapura had been sprinkled with
water and decorated with flowers. As had been already decided, half the kingdom
was made over to the Pandavas and Yudhishthira was duly crowned king.
Dhritarashtra
blessed the newly crowned Yudhishthira and bade him farewell with these words:
"My brother Pandu made this kingdom prosperous. May you prove a worthy
heir to his renown! King Pandu delighted in abiding by my advice. Love me in
the same manner. My sons are wicked and proud. I have made this settlement so
that there may be no strife or hatred between you. Go to Khandavaprastha and
make it your capital. Our ancestors Pururavas, Nahusha, and Yayati ruled the
kingdom from there. That was our ancient capital. Re-establish that and be
famous." In this manner
Dhritarashtra spoke affectionately to Yudhishthira.
The
Pandavas renovated that ruined city, built palaces and forts, and renamed it
Indraprastha. It grew in wealth and beauty and became the admiration of the
world.
The
Pandavas ruled there happily for thirty-six years with their mother and
Draupadi, never straying from the path of dharma.
IN the stories narrated in the Puranas, birds
and beasts speak like men, and sometimes they give sound advice and even teach
spiritual wisdom. But the natural qualities of those creatures are adroitly
made to peep through this human veil.
One
of the characteristic beauties of the Puranic literature is this happy fusion
of nature and imagination. In a delightful passage in the Ramayana, Hanuman,
who is described as very wise and learned, is made to frolic with apish joy,
when he imagined that the beautiful damsel he saw at Ravana's inner courtyard
was Sita.
It
is usual to entertain children with stories in which birds and beasts are made
to speak. But the stories of the Puranas are meant for elderly people, and in
them usually some background is given in explanation of animals having the gift
of human speech.
The
usual expedient employed is a previous birth when those creatures were human
beings. For instance, a deer was a rishi in a previous birth, or a fox a king.
The subsequent degradation being due to a curse.
In
such cases the deer will act as a deer and yet speak as a rishi, and in the fox
the clever nature is shot through with the characteristics of a wise and
experienced king. The stories are thereby made interesting vehicles of the
great truths they sometimes convey.
Khandavaprastha,
that forest full of uneven places and thorns and prickles and cumbered with the
crumbling vestiges of a long dead city, was indeed a frightful place when it
came into the possession of the Pandavas.
Birds
and beasts had made it their abode, and it was infested with thieves and wicked
men. Krishna and Arjuna resolved to set fire to the forest and construct a new
city in its place.
A
saranga bird was living there with its four fledgelings. The male bird was
pleasantly roaming about in the forest with another female bird neglecting wife
and children. The mother bird looked after its young ones.
As
the forest was set on fire as commanded by Krishna and Arjuna and the fire
spread in all directions, doing its destructive work, the worried mother bird
began to lament:
'The
fire is coming nearer and nearer burning everything, and soon it will be here
and destroy us. All forest creatures are in despair and the air is full of the
agonising crash of falling trees. Poor wingless babies! You will become a prey
to the fire. What shall I do? Your father has deserted us, and I am not strong
enough to fly away carrying you with me."
To
the mother who was wailing thus, the children said:
"Mother,
do not torment yourself on our account. Leave us to our fate. If we die here,
we shall attain a good birth in some future life. If you give up your life for
our sake, our family will become extinct. Fly to a place of safety, take
another mate and be happy. You will soon have other children and be able to
forget us. Mother, reflect and do what is best for our race."
Despite
this earnest entreaty, the mother had no mind to leave her children. She said:
"I shall remain here and perish in the flames with you."
This
is the background of the story of the birds. A rishi named Mandapala long lived
faithful to his vow of perfect brahmacharya but when he sought entry to the
higher regions, the gatekeeper said: "There is no place here for a
childless man" and turned him back. He was then born as a saranga bird and
lived with a female companion named Jarita. She laid four eggs. Then he left
Jarita and wandered in the woods with another female companion, Lapita.
The
four eggs of Jarita hatched in time and they were the four birds mentioned
above. As they were the children of a rishi they could cheer and encourage
their mother in the way they did.
The
mother bird told her children: "There is a rat-hole by the side of this
tree. I shall put you there. You can get into the hole and escape the fire. I
shall close the mouth of the hole with earth and the fire will not touch you.
When the fire dies down I shall let you out."
The
children would not agree. They said: "The rat in the hole will devour us.
It is better to perish in the flames than to die ignobly by being eaten up by
rats."
The
mother bird tried to relieve the fears of the children and said: "I saw an
eagle devour the rat. There is now no danger for you inside the hole."
But
the children said: "There are sure to be other rats in the hole. Our
danger is not ended by the killing of one rat by the eagle. Kindly save your
life by flying before the fire reaches us and this tree catches fire. We cannot
get into the rat-hole. Why should you sacrifice your life for our sake? How
have we merited it, who have done nothing for you? We have only brought you
unhappiness since we came into the world. Take another mate and live
happily."
The
fire which destroyed the whole forest, mercifully left the baby birds
unscathed. When the fire had subsided, the mother bird came back and saw with
wonder that her children were safe and chirping merrily. She embraced them and
was intensely happy.
While
the fire was raging, the male bird, anxious for the safety of his young ones,
had expressed his fears to his new love-bird Lapita. She had petulantly
upbraided him. Hearing his repeated laments "Is it so?" she said:
"I know your mind, I know that you desire to go back to Jarita, having had
enough of me. Why falsely bring in the fire and the children? You have yourself
told me that the children of Jarita would never perish in fire since the Fire
god has given you that boon. You may as well tell the truth and go away, if you
like, to your beloved Jarita. I shall only be another of the many trusting
females betrayed by unworthy males and cast out wandering in the forest. You
may go."
The
bird Mandapala said: "Your assumption is untrue. I took birth as a bird
for obtaining children and I am naturally anxious about them.
I
shall just go and see them and then come back to you " Having thus
consoled his new mate, be went to the tree where Jarita was seated.
Jarita
paid no attention to her consort but remained absorbed in joy at finding her
children alive.
Then
she turned to her husband and asked in an indifferent tone why he had come. He
replied with affection:
"Are
my children happy? Who is the eldest among them?"
Then
Jarita cut in icily: "Do you greatly care? Go back to her for whom you
abandoned me. Be happy with her."
Mandapala
philosophised: "A woman will not care for her husband after she has become
a mother. Such is the way of the world. Even the blameless Vasishtha was thus
ignored by Arundhati."
THE
Pandavas ruled Indraprastha in all glory. Those who surrounded Yudhishthira
urged him to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice and assume the title of Emperor. It
is evident that imperialism had an irresistible glamour even in those days.
Yudhishthira
sought Sri Krishna's advice in this matter. When Krishna learnt that
Dharmaputra desired to see him, he set out in a chariot harnessed with swift
horses and reached Indraprastha.
Yudhishthira
said: "'My people urge me to perform Rajasuya, but as you know, only he
who can secure the respect and allegiance of all kings, can perform that
sacrifice and win the status of emperor. Advise me, you are not among those
whose affection makes them blind and partial. Nor are you one of those who
advise to please and whose counsel is pleasant rather than true or
wholesome."
Krishna
replied: "Quite so and that is why you cannot be emperor while the mighty
Jarasandha of Magadha is alive and unconquered. He has conquered many kings and
holds them in subjection. All the kshatriyas, including the redoubtable Sisupala
himself, are afraid of his prowess and are submissive to him. Have you not
heard of the wicked Kamsa, the son of Ugrasena? After he had become the
son-in-law and ally of Jarasandha my people and I attacked Jarasandha. After
three years of continuous fighting we had to acknowledge defeat and we left
Mathura and moved to Dwaraka in the west, and built a new city where we are
living in peace and plenty. Even if Duryodhana, Karna and others do not object
to your assuming the title of emperor, Jarasandha will certainly oppose it. And
the only way to overcome his opposition is to defeat and kill him. You can then
not only perform the Rajasuya but also rescue and win the adherence of the
kings who languish in his prisons."
At
these words of Krishna, Yudhishthira said: "I agree. I am but one of the
many kings who rule their kingdoms with fairness and justice and lead happy
unambitious lives. It is mere vanity and vainglory to desire to become an
emperor. Why should not a king rest satisfied with his own kingdom? So, I shall
give up this desire to be an emperor. And really, the title has no temptations
for me. It is my brothers who wish it. When you yourself are afraid of
Jarasandha what can we hope to do?"
Bhima
did not at all like this spirit of cowardly contentment.
Bhima
said: "Ambition is the noblest virtue of a king. What is the good of being
strong if one does not know his own strength? I cannot reconcile myself to live
a life of idle ease and contentment. He who casts off indolence and properly
employs political means, can conquer even those stronger than himself. Strength
reinforced by stratagem will surely do much. What, indeed, cannot be
accomplished by a combination of my physical strength, Krishna's wisdom and
Arjuna's dexterity? We can conquer Jarasandha's might, if we three join and set
about it without doubts or fears."
Krishna
interposed: "Jarasandha should certainly be slain and fully deserves it.
He has unjustly cast eighty-six princes in prison. He has planned to immolate a
hundred kings and is waiting to lay hold of fourteen more. If Bhima and Arjuna
agree, I shall accompany them and together we will slay that king by stratagem
and set free the imprisoned princes. I like this suggestion."
Yudhishthira
was not pleased with this advice. He said: "This may really mean
sacrificing Bhima and Arjuna who are to me as my two eyes, merely to gratify a
vain desire to be an emperor. I do not like to send them on this dangerous
errand. It seems to me far better to give up the idea altogether."
Arjuna
said: "What is the use to us of an existence without heroic deeds, born as
we are of an illustrious line? A Kshatriya though endowed with all other good
qualities, will not become famous if he does not exert himself. Enthusiasm is
the mother of success. We can seize fortune if we do our duties energetically.
Even a powerful man may fail if, through lassitude, he does not employ the
means he has. Failure is due, in the vast majority of cases, to ignorance of
one's own strength. We know we are strong, and we are not afraid of using our
strength to the utmost. Why should Yudhishthira suppose that we are incapable
of this? When we have become old, it will be time to assume the ochre robe,
resort to the forest and pass the rest of our days in penance and austerities.
Now, we should lead strenuous lives and do heroic deeds worthy of the
traditions of our race."
Krishna
was delighted to hear these words and said: "What else can Arjuna, born of
Kunti in the Bharata race, advise? Death comes to all, the hero as well as the
sluggard. But the noblest duty of a kshatriya is to be true to his race and
faith, and overcoming his foes in righteous battle, to win glory."
Finally
Yudhishthira assented to the unanimous opinion that their duty lay in slaying
Jarasandha.
This
conversation has a curiously modern ring about it and shows that powerful men
in ancient days used very much the same specious reasoning as now.
BRIHADRATHA,
the commander of three regiments, reigned in the kingdom of Magadha and
attained celebrity as a great hero. He married the twin daughters of the raja
of Kasi and vowed to them that he would not show any partiality to either.
Brihadratha
was not blessed with a child for a long time. When he became old, he handed
over his kingdom to his ministers, went to the forest with his two wives and
engaged himself in austerities.
He
went to Sage Kausika of the Gautama family, with a sorrowful longing for
children in his heart. And when the sage was moved with pity and asked him what
he wanted, he answered:
"I
am childless and have come to the forest giving up my kingdom. Give me
children."
The
sage was filled with compassion and, even as he was thinking how to help the
king, a mango fruit fell into his lap. He took it and gave it to the king with
this blessing: "Take it. Your wish will be fulfilled."
The
king cut the fruit into two halves and gave one to each wife. He did so to keep
his vow not to show partiality to either. Some time after they had partaken of
the fruit, the wives became pregnant.
The
delivery took place in due course. But instead of bringing the expected joy, it
plunged them into greater grief than before. For they each gave birth to but a
half of a child. Each half was a monstrous birth which seemed a revolting lump.
They
were indeed two equal and complementary portions of one baby, consisting of one
eye, one leg, half a face, one ear and so on. Seized with grief, they commanded
their attendants to tie the gruesome pieces in a cloth and cast them away.
The
attendants did as they were instructed and threw the cloth bundle on a heap of
refuse in the street. A cannibal Rakshasi chanced upon that place. She was
elated at seeing the two pieces of flesh and, as she gathered them up both at
once, accidently the halves came together the right way. And they at once
adhered together and changed into a whole living child, perfect in every
detail.
The
surprised Rakshasi did not wish to kill the child. She took on the guise of a
beautiful woman and, going to the king, presented the child to him saying:
"This is your child."
The
king was immensely delighted and handed it over to his two wives. This child
became known as Jarasandha. He grew up in to a man of immense physical
strength. But his body had one weakness namely, that being made up by the
fusion of two separate parts, it could be split again into two, if sufficient
force were used.
This
interesting story embodies the important truth that two sundered parts joined
together will still remain weak, with a tendency to split. When the conquest
and slaying of Jarasandha had been resolved upon, Sri Krishna said:
"Hamsa, Hidimbaka, Kamsa, and other allies of Jarasandha are no more. Now
that he is isolated, this is the right time to kill him. It is useless to fight with armies. He must
be provoked to a single combat and slain."
According
to the code of honor of those days, a kshatriya had to accept the challenge to
a duel whether with or without weapons.
The
latter sort was a fight to the death with weighted gauntlets or a wrestling to
the death in catch-as-catch-can style. This was the kshatriya tradition to
which Krishna and the Pandavas had recourse for slaying Jarasandha.
They
disguised themselves as men who had taken religious vows, clad in robes of
bark-fibre and carrying the holy darbha grass in their hands. Thus they entered
the kingdom of Magadha and arrived at the capital of Jarasandha.
Jarasandha
was disturbed by portents of ill omen. To ward off the threatened danger, he
had propitiatory rites performed by the priests and himself took to fasts and
penance.
Krishna,
Bhima, and Arjuna entered the palace unarmed. Jarasandha received them with
respect as their noble bearing seemed to indicate an illustrious origin. Bhima
and Arjuna made no reply to his words of welcome because they wished to avoid
having to tell lies.
Krishna
spoke on their behalf: "These two are observing a vow of silence for the
present as at part of their austerities. They can speak only after
midnight." Jarasandha entertained them in the hall of sacrifice and
returned to the palace.
It
was the practice of Jarasandha to meet noble guests who had taken vows and talk
to them at their leisure and convenience, and so he called at midnight to see
them.
Their
conduct made Jarasandha suspicious, and he also observed that they had on their
hands the scars made by the bowstring and had besides the proud bearing of
kshatriyas.
When
Jarasandha demanded the truth of them they said frankly: "We are your foes
and seek instant combat. You can choose one of us at will to fight with
you."
After
acquainting himself as to who they were, Jarasandha said: "Krishna, you
are a cowherd and Arjuna is a mere boy. Bhima is famous for his physical
strength. So, I wish to fight with him." Since Bhima was unarmed,
Jarasandha chivalrously agreed to fight him without weapons.
Bhima
and Jarasandha were so equally matched in strength that they fought with each
other continuously for thirteen days without taking rest or refreshments, while
Krishna and Arjuna looked on in alternating hope and anxiety.
On
the fourteenth day, Jarasandha showed signs of exhaustion, and Krishna prompted
Bhima that the time had come to make an end of him.
At
once Bhima lifted him and whirling him round and round a hundred times, dashed
him to the earth and seizing his legs tore his body asunder into two halves.
And
Bhima roared in exultation. The two halves at once joined and Jarasandha, thus
made whole, leapt up into vigorous life and again attacked Bhima.
Bhima
aghast at the sight, was at a loss what to do, when he saw Krishna pick up a
straw, tear it into two, and cast the bits in opposite directions.
Bhima
took the hint, and when once again he tore Jarasandha asunder he threw the two
portions in opposite directions, so that they could not come together and join.
Thus did Jarasandha meet his end.
The
captive princes were released and Jarasandha's son was crowned King of Magadha.
And Krishna, Bhima and Arjuna returned to Indraprastha.
With
Jarasandha gone, the way was now clear for the Rajasuya which the Pandavas
performed with great pomp and splendor. Yudhishthira assumed the title of
emperor.
The
celebrations were marred by only one incident. Towards the close of the festive
celebrations, at the time of paying the first honor, Sisupala behaved
disrespectfully in the assembly of princes and provoked a fight with Krishna in
which he was slain. This story is told in the next chapter.
THE
practice of staging a walkout from an assembly in protest against something is
nothing new. We learn from the Mahabharata that walkout was resorted to even in
ancient times.
The
India of those days consisted of a number of independent states. Though there
was one dharma and one culture throughout the land, the autonomy of each state
was scrupulosly respected.
Occasionally,
some strong and ambitious monarch would seek the assent of his fellow kings to
his overlordship, which would sometimes be given without question.
After
receiving this assent he would perform a grand Rajasuya sacrifice, which all
the acquiescing kings would attend in token of acknowledgement of his
supremacy.
In
accordance with this custom, the Pandavas invited the other kings after the
slaying of Jarasandha and performed the Rajasuya.
The
time came for doing the honors of the occasion. The custom was to render first
honor to the guest who was considered most worthy of taking precedence over all
others.
The
question arose as to who should be honored first. The grandsire was
emphatically of the opinion that Sri Krishna, the king of Dwaraka, should be
honored first, which was also Yudhishthira's own opinion.
Yudhishthira
followed the advice and under his instructions Sahadeva offered to Sri Krishna
the honors enjoined by tradition. Sisupala, the king of Chedi, who hated
Krishna as wickedness alone can hate goodness, could not tolerate it.
He
laughed aloud in derision and said: "How ridiculous and unjust, but I am
not surprised. The man who sought advice was born in illegitimacy. (This was an
insulting allusion to the sons of Kunti) The man who gave advice was born of
one who ever declines from high to low. (This is in reference to the fact that
Bhishma was born of Ganga, the river naturally flowing from higher to lower
levels.) And he who did the honors was also born illegitimately. And what shall
I say of the man honored! He is a fool by birth and a cowherd by breeding. Dumb
indeed must be the members of this assembly if they have not a word to say to
this! This is no place for worthy men."
Some
of the assembled princes applauded Sisupala. Encouraged by their applause he
addressed Yudhishthira:
"When
there are so many kings gathered here, it is a shame that you paid the first
honor to Krishna. Not to render respect where it is rightly due and to render
it where it is not merited are both equally grave offences. It is a pity that,
for all your imperial pretensions you are ignorant of this."
Getting
more and more angry as he spoke, he continued: "Ignoring the many kings
and heroes who are here at your own invitation and in malicious despise of
them, you have paid royal honors to a cowherd boor, a mere nobody. Vasudeva,
the father of Krishna, was but a servant of Ugrasena. He is not even of royal
blood. Is this the place and the occasion to show your vulgar partiality for
Krishna, the son of Devaki? Is this worthy of the children of Pandu? O sons of
Pandu, you are raw, untaught youths, altogether ignorant of the way to conduct
a royal assembly. This dotard Bhishma guided you foolishly and thus made fools
of you. Krishna, why, Krishna is no ruler at all! O Yudhishthira, why did you
dare to do this wretch first honor in this illustrious assemblage of kings? He
has not even the merit of age and if you admire grey hair, is not his father
alive? You could not have honored him as your preceptor surely, for your
preceptor is Drona who is here in this assembly. Is it as an expert in
performing sacrifices that you have honored him? It cannot be, for Vyasa, the
great master, is present. It would have been better even if you had paid the
first honor to Bhishma, for dotard as he be, he has still the merit of being
the oldest man of your house. Your family teacher, Kripacharya, is also present
in this assembly. How could you then pay the first honor to this cowherd?
Ashwatthama, the hero who is expert in all sastras, is here. How did you choose
Krishna, forgetting him? Among the princes assembled here, there is Duryodhana.
And there is also Karna, the disciple of Parasurama. Leaving him aside, out of
childish partiality, you chose Krishna for the first honor Krishna who is
neither royal, nor heroic, nor learned, nor holy, nor even hoary, who is
nothing but a low cowherd! Thus you have dishonored us all, whom you have
invited here. O kings, it is not out of fear that we assented to Yudhishthira's
assuming the title of emperor. We personally do not much care whether he is
friend or foe. But, having heard much prate of his righteousness, we wanted to
see him uphold the flag of dharma. He has now wantonly dishonored us, after all
that talk of virtue and dharma. What virtue or dharma was there in his giving
priority of honor to this villain Krishna who killed Jarasandha in an unjust
manner? You should henceforth call
Yudhishthira an unrighteous person. O Krishna, what impudence on your part to
accept the undeserved honor which these misguided Pandavas did you! Did you
forget yourself? Or did you forget decent tradition? Or was it just a case of a
dog snatching at a remnant of food which nobody cared to claim or guard? Do you
not really see that this farce is a ghastly mockery and disgrace to yourself?
It is like the mockery of showing beautiful things to a blind man or offering a
maiden in marriage to a eunuch. Likewise, these kingly honors are really an
affront to you. It is now evident that the would-be emperor Yudhishthira, the
senile Bhishma, and this fellow Krishna are all made of the same stuff."
After
Sisupala had spoken these harsh words, he rose from his seat and walked out
calling upon the other kings to join him in resenting the insult. Many of them
followed him.
Yudhishthira
ran after them and tried to appease them with sweet words of peace but in vain,
for they were too angry to be appeased.
Sisupala's
aggressive vanity waxed to fighting pitch, and there ensued a terrible fight
between Krishna and Sisupala, in which the latter was slain by his discus.
The
Rajasuya was duly celebrated and Yudhishthira recognised emperor.
AT
the close of the Rajasuya, the princes, priests and elders, who had gathered
for the purpose, took leave and returned to their places. Vyasa also came to
say farewell. Dharmaputra rose and received him with due respect and sat by his
side.
The
sage said: "O son of Kunti, you have got the title of emperor which you
eminently deserve. May the illustrious Kuru race gain even greater glory
through you. Give me leave to return to my hermitage."
Yudhishthira
touched the feet of his progenitor and guru and said: "O master, you alone
can remove my apprehensions. Wise men have predicted from portents the
happenings of catastrophic events. Has this prediction been fulfilled by the
death of Sisupala or is more to ensue?"
Bhagavan
Vyasa replied: "Dear child, much sorrow and suffering is in store for
thirteen years to come. The portents indicate the destruction of the Kshatriya
race and are not exhausted with the death of Sisupala. It is far from it. Hundreds of kings will perish, and the old
order of things will pass away. This catastrophe will spring out of the enmity
between you and your brothers on the one side and your cousins, the
Dhritarashtras, on the other. It will culminate in a war resulting in practical
annihilation of the Kshatriya race. No one can go against destiny. Be firm and
steadfast in righteousness. Be vigilant and rule the kingdom, farewell."
And Vyasa blessed Yudhishthira. Vyasa's words filled Yudhishthira with grief
and with a great repugnance for worldly ambition and life itself.
He
informed his brothers of the prediction of unavoidable racial disaster. Life
seemed to him a bitter and weary business and his destiny particularly cruel
and unbearable.
Arjuna
said: "You are a king and it is not right for you to be agitated. Let us
meet destiny with an undaunted front and do our duty."
Yudhishthira
replied: "Brothers, may God protect us and give us wisdom. For my part, I
take this vow never to speak harshly to my brothers or to my kinsmen for the
next thirteen years. I shall avoid all pretext for conflict. I shall never give
way to anger, which is the root cause of enmity. It shall be my duty to give no
occasion for anger or pretext for hostility. Thus shall we profit by Bhagavan
Vyasa's warning." His brothers expressed cordial assent.
The
first event of the series which culminated in the devastating slaughter on the
blood-sodden field of Kurukshetra and the event which was the evil root of all,
was the gambling match into which Yudhishthira was inveigled by Sakuni, who was
Duryodhana's evil genius.
Why
did the wise and good Yudhishthira suffer himself to be persuaded to this step
which he must have known to hold evil possibilities?
The
main cause was his fixed resolve to be on amicable terms with his cousins by
not opposing their wishes. And a friendly invitation to dice could not be
summarily turned down, since the etiquette of those days made it a point of
honor to accept a game of equal hazard.
Out
of his very anxiety to foster goodwill, he laid open the field for the
poisonous seed of hatred and death. Here is an illustration of the futility of
human plans, however well meant or wise, without divine aid. Our best wisdom is
vain against fate, and if destiny is kind, our very follies turn to our
advantage.
While
Dharmaputra was care-worn with solicitude to avoid a quarrel at all costs,
Duryodhana was burning with jealousy at the thought of the prosperity of the
Pandavas that he had witnessed in their capital during the Rajasuya sacrifice.
Duryodhana
saw unprecedented wealth, attractive and sight eluding crystal doors and many
pieces of exquisite artistry in the court-hall of Yudhishthira, all suggestive
of great prosperity.
He
also saw how glad the kings of many countries were to become the allies of the
Pandavas. This gave him unbearable grief. He was so absorbed in sorrow at the
prosperity of the Pandavas that he did not at first hear Sakuni who was by his
side, speaking to him.
Sakuni
asked: "Why are you sighing? Why are you tormented with sorrow?"
Duryodhana
replied: "Yudhishthira, surrounded by his brothers, is like Indra, the
king of gods. Before the very eyes of the assembled kings Sisupala was slain
and not one of them had the courage to come forward to avenge him. Like the
vaisyas who live by trade, they bartered their honor and jewels and riches for
Yudhishthira's goodwill. How can I avoid giving way to grief after seeing all
this? What is the good of living?"
Sakuni
said: "O Duryodhana, the Pandavas are your brothers. It is not right on
your part to be jealous of their prosperity. They are but enjoying their
legitimate inheritance. By their good fortune they have prospered and
flourished without doing any injury to others. Why should you be jealous? How
can their strength and happiness diminish your greatness? Your brothers and
relations stand by you and obey you. Drona, Ashwatthama and Karna are on your
side. Why do you grieve when Bhishma, Kripa, Jayadratha, Somadatta and myself
are your supporters? You can conquer even the whole world. Do not give way to
grief."
At
these words, Duryodhana said: "O Sakuni, it is true that I have so many to
support me. Why should we not wage war and drive the Pandavas out of
Indraprastha?"
But
Sakuni said: "No. That will not be easy, but I know a way to drive
Yudhishthira out of Indraprastha without a fight or the shedding of
blood."
The
eyes of Duryodhana lighted up, but it seemed too good to be true. He asked
incredulously: "Uncle, is it possible to overcome the Pandavas without
sacrificing any life? What is your plan?"
Sakuni
replied: "Yudhishthira is fond of the game of dice and being unskillful is
altogether ignorant of its tricks and the opportunity it offers to cleverer
people. If we invite him to a game, he would accept, following the tradition of
the kshatriyas. I know the tricks of the game and I shall play on your behalf.
Yudhishthira will be helpless as a child against me. I shall win his kingdom
and wealth for you without shedding a drop of blood."
DURYODHANA
and Sakuni went to Dhritarashtra. Sakuni opened the conversation. He said:
"O king, Duryodhana is wan with grief and anxiety. You are paying no
attention to his unbearable sorrow. Why this unconcern?"
Dhritarashtra
who doted on his son embraced Duryodhana and said: "I do not see why you
should be disconsolate. What is here that you already do not enjoy? The whole
world is at your feet. When you are surrounded by all kinds of pleasures like
the very gods, why should you pine in sorrow? You have learnt the Vedas,
archery, and other sciences from the best of masters. As my first born, you
have inherited the throne. What is left you to wish for? Tell me."
Duryodhana
replied: "Father, like anybody else, rich or poor, I eat and cover my
nakedness, but I find life unbearable. What is the use of leading such a
life?"
And
then he revealed in detail the envy and hatred that were eating into his vitals
and depriving life of its savour. He referred to the prosperity he had seen in
the capital of the Pandavas that to him was bitterer than loss of his all would
have been.
He
burst out: "Contentment with one's lot is not characteristic of a
kshatriya. Fear and pity lower the dignity of kings. My wealth and pleasures do
not give me any satisfaction since I have witnessed the greater prosperity of
Yudhishthira. O king, the Pandavas have grown, while we have shrunk."
Dhritarashtra
said: "Beloved child, you are the eldest son of my royal spouse and me and
heir to the glory and greatness of our renowned race. Do not cherish any hatred
towards the Pandavas. Sorrow and death will be the sole result of hatred of
kith and kin, especially when they are blameless. Tell me, why do you hate the
guileless Yudhishthira? Is not his prosperity ours too? Our friends are his
friends. He has not the least jealousy or hatred towards us. You are equal to
him in heroism and ancestry. Why should you be jealous of your brother? No. You
should not be jealous." Thus said the old king who, though overfond of his
son, did not occasionally hesitate to say what he felt to be just.
Duryodhana
did not at all like the advice of his father, and his reply was not very
respectful.
He
replied: "The man without common sense, but immersed in learning, is like
a wooden ladle immersed in savoury food which it neither tastes nor benefits
from. You have much learning of statecraft but have no state wisdom at all, as
your advice to me clearly shows. The way of the world is one thing and the
administration of a state is quite another. Thus has Brihaspati said:
'Forbearance and contentment, though the duties of ordinary men, are not
virtues in kings.' The kshatriya's duty is a constant seeking of victory."
Duryodhana
spoke thus quoting maxims of politics and citing examples and making the worse
appear the better reason.
Then
Sakuni intervened and set forth in detail his infallible plan of inviting
Yudhishthira to play the game of dice, defeating him utterly and divesting him
of his all without recourse to arms.
The
wicked Sakuni wound up with saying: "It is enough if you merely send for
the son of Kunti to play the game of dice. Leave the rest to me."
Duryodhana
added: "Sakuni will win for me the riches of the Pandavas without a fight,
if you would only agree to invite Yudhishthira."
Dhritarashtra
said: "Your suggestion does not seem proper. Let us ask Vidura about it.
He will advise us rightly."
But
Duryodhana would not hear of consulting Vidura. He said to his father:
"Vidura will only give us the platitudes of ordinary morality, which will
not help us to our object. The policy of kings must be very different from the
goody maxims of textbooks, and is sterner stuff of which the test is success.
Moreover, Vidura does not like me and is partial to the Pandavas. You know this
as well as I do."
Dhritarashtra
said: "The Pandavas are strong. I do not think it wise to antagonize them.
The game of dice will only lead to enmity. The passions resulting from the game
will know no bounds. We should not do it."
But
Duryodhana was importunate: "Wise statesmanship lies in casting off all
fear and protecting oneself by one's own efforts. Should we not force the issue
while yet we are more powerful than they are? That will be real foresight. A
lost opportunity may never come again, and it is not as though we invented the
game of dice to injure the Pandavas. It is an ancient pastime which kshatriyas
have always indulged in, and if it will now serve us to win our cause without
bloodshed, where is the harm?"
Dhritarashtra
replied: "Dear son, I have grown old. Do as you like. But the line that
you are taking does not appeal to me. I am sure you will repent later. This is
the work of destiny."
In
the end, out-argued and through sheer fatigue and hopelessness of dissuading
his son, Dhritarashtra assented, and ordered the servants to prepare a hall of
games. Yet he could not forbear consulting Vidura in secret about the matter.
Vidura
said: "O king, this will undoubtedly bring about the ruin of our race by
raising up unquenchable hate."
Dhritarashtra,
who could not oppose the demand of his son, said: "If fortune favors us I
have no fear regarding this game. If on the contrary, fortune goes against us,
how could we help it? For, destiny is all-powerful. Go and invite Yudhishthira
on my behalf to come and play dice." Thus commanded, Vidura went to
Yudhishthira with an invitation.
The
weak-witted Dhritarashtra, over-persuaded, yielded to the desire of his son
through his attachment to him in spite of the fact that he knew this was the
way that destiny was working itself out.
AT
THE sight of Vidura, Yudhishthira anxiously inquired: "Why are you so
cheerless? Is it well with all our relations in Hastinapura? Are the king and
the princes well?"
Vidura
acquainted him with his mission: "Everyone in Hastinapura is well. How
fares it with you all? I have come to invite you on behalf of King
Dhritarashtra to come and see the newly erected hall of games. A beautiful hall
has been erected there even like yours. The king would like you to come with
your brothers, see everything, have a game of dice and return to your
capital."
Yudhishthira
seemed to ask counsel of Vidura: "Wagering games create quarrels among
kshatriyas. A wise man will avoid them if he can. We are ever abiding by your
advice. What would you have us do?"
Vidura
replied: "Everyone is aware that the playing of dice is the root of many
evils. I did my best to oppose this idea. Still the king has commanded me to
invite you and I have come. You may do as you like."
Despite
this warning, Yudhishthira went to Hastinapura with his brothers and retinue.
It may be asked why the wise Yudhishthira responded to the invitation.
Three
reasons may be given. Men rush consciously on their ruin impelled by lust,
gambling and drink. Yudhishthira was fond of gambling. The kshatriya tradition
made it a matter of etiquette and honor not to refuse an invitation to a game
of dice.
There
is a third reason too. True to the vow he took at the time Vyasa had warned him
of the quarrels that would arise leading to destruction of the race.
Yudhishthira would not give any occasion for displeasure or complaint by
refusing the invitation of Dhritarashtra.
These
causes conspired with his natural inclination to make Yudhishthira accept the
invitation and go to Hastinapura. The Pandavas and their retinue stopped in the
magnificent palace reserved for them.
Yudhishthira
rested on the day of arrival, and after the daily routine of duties, went to
the hall of games the next morning.
After
the exchange of customary greetings, Sakuni announced to Yudhishthira that the
cloth for playing the game had been spread and invited him to it.
Yudhishthira
at first said: "O king, gambling is bad. It is not through heroism or
merit that one succeeds in a game of chance. Asita, Devala and other wise
rishis who were well-versed in worldly affairs have declared that gambling
should be avoided since it offers scope for deceit. They have also said that
conquest in battle is the proper path for the kshatriyas. You are not unaware
of it."
But
a part of himself, weakened by addiction to gambling, was at war with his
judgment and in his heart of hearts Yudhishthira desired to play.
In
his discussion with Sakuni, we see this inner conflict. The keen-witted Sakuni spotted this weakness
at once and said: "What is wrong with the game? What, in fact, is a
battle? What is even a discussion between Vedic scholars? The learned man wins
victory over the ignorant. The better man wins in every case. It is just a test
of strength or skill, that is all, and there is nothing wrong in it. As for the
result, in every field of activity, the expert defeats the beginner, and that
is what happens in a game of dice also. But if you are afraid, you need not
play. But do not come out with this worn excuse of right and wrong."
Yudhishthira
replied: "Well, who is to play with me?"
Duryodhana
said: "Mine is the responsibility for finding the stakes in the form of
wealth and gems to play the game. My uncle Sakuni will actually cast the dice
in my stead."
Yudhishthira
had thought himself secure of defeating Duryodhana in play but Sakuni was a
different matter, for Sakuni was a recognised expert. So he hesitated and said:
"It is not, I think, customary for one man to play on behalf of
another."
Sakuni
retorted tauntingly: "I see that you are forging another excuse."
Yudhishthira
flushed and, casting caution to the winds, replied: "Well, I shall
play."
The
hall was fully crowded. Drona, Kripa, Bhishma, Vidura, and Dhritarashtra were
seated there. They knew that the game would end viciously and sat unhappily
witnessing what they could not prevent.
The
assembled princes watched the game with great interest and enthusiasm. At first
they wagered jewels and later gold, silver and then chariots and horses.
Yudhishthira lost continually.
When
he lost all these, Yudhishthira staked his servants and lost them also. He
pledged his elephants and armies and lost them too. The dice thrown by Sakuni
seemed at every time to obey his will.
Cows,
sheep, cities, villages and citizens and all other possessions were lost by
Yudhishthira. Still, drugged with misfortune, he would not stop.
He
lost the ornaments of his brothers and himself as well as the very clothes they
wore. Still bad luck dogged him, or rather the trickery of Sakuni was too much
for him.
Sakuni
asked: "Is there anything else that you can offer as wager?"
Yudhishthira
said: "Here is the beautiful sky-complexioned Nakula. He is one of my
riches. I place him as a wager."
Sakuni
replied: "Is it so? We shall be glad to win your beloved prince."
With these words Sakuni cast the dice and the result was what he had foretold.
The
assembly trembled.
Yudhishthira
said: "Here is my brother Sahadeva. He is famous for his infinite
knowledge in all the arts. It is wrong to bet him, still I do so. Let us
play."
Sakuni
cast the dice with the words: "Here, I have played and I have
won."Yudhishthira lost Sahadeva too.
The
wicked Sakuni was afraid that Yudhishthira might stop there. So be lashed
Yudhishthira with these words: "To you, Bhima and Arjuna, being your full
brothers, are no doubt dearer than the sons of Madri. You will not offer them,
I know."
Yudhishthira,
now thoroughly reckless and stung to the quick by the sneering imputation that
he held his step-brothers cheap, replied: "Fool, do you seek to divide us?
How can you, living an evil life, understand the righteous life we lead?"
He
continued: "I offer as wager the ever-victorious Arjuna who successfully
voyages across oceans of battle. Let us play."
Sakuni
answered: "I cast the dice" and he played. Yudhishthira lost Arjuna
also.
The
stubborn madness of unbroken misfortune carried Yudhishthira further and
deeper. With tears in his eyes, he said: "O king, Bhima, my brother, is
our leader in battle. He strikes terror into the heart of demons and is equal
to Indra; he can never suffer the least dishonor and he is peerless throughout
the world in physical strength. I offer him as a bet" and he played again
and lost Bhima too.
The
wicked Sakuni asked: "Is there any thing else you can offer?"
Dharmaputra
replied: "Yes. Here is myself. If you win, I shall be your slave."
"Look.
I win." Thus saying, Sakuni cast the dice and won. After that Sakuni stood
up in the assembly and shouted the names of each of the five Pandavas and
loudly proclaimed that they had all become his lawful slaves.
The
assembly looked on in stunned silence. Sakuni alone turned toYudhishthira and
said: "There is one jewel still in your possession by staking which you
can yet free yourself. Can you not continue the game cffering your wife
Draupadi as wager?"
Yudhishthira
despairingly said: "I pledge her," and he trembled unwittingly.
There
was audible distress and agitation in that part of the assembly where the
elders sat. Soon great shouts of 'Fie! Fie!' arose from all sides. The more
emotional wept. Others perspired, and felt the end of the world was come.
Duryodhana,
his brothers and Karna shouted with exultation. In that group Yuyutsu alone
bent his head in shame and sorrow and heaved a deep sigh. Sakuni cast the dice
and shouted again: "I have won."
At
once Duryodhana turned to Vidura and said: "Go and fetch Draupadi, the
beloved wife of the Pandavas. She must hence forward sweep and clean our house.
Let her come without delay."
Vidura
exclaimed: "Are you mad that you rush to certain destruction? You are
hanging by a slender thread over a bottomless abyss! Drunk with success, you do
not see it, but it will engulf you!"
Having
thus reprimanded Duryodhana, Vidura turned to the assembly and said:
"Yudhishthira had no right to stake Panchali as by then he had himself
already lost his freedom and lost all rights. I see that the ruin of the Kauravas
is imminent, and that, regardless of the advice of their friends and
well-wishers, the sons of Dhritarashtra are on the path to hell."
Duryodhana
was angry at these words of Vidura and told Prathikami, his charioteer:
"Vidura is jealous of us and he is afraid of the Pandavas. But you are
different. Go forth and bring Draupadi immediately."
PRATHIKAMI
went to Draupadi as ordered by his master. He said to her: "O revered
princess, Yudhishthira fell under the spell of the game of dice and has wagered
and lost even you. Now you belong to Duryodhana. I have come by Duryodhana's
command to take you to serve in his household as maid servant, which will
hereafter be your office."
Draupadi,
the spouse of the emperor who had performed Rajasuya, was dumbfounded, at this
strange message. She asked: "Prathikami, what do you say? Which prince
would pledge his wife? Had he nothing else to pawn?"
Prathikami
answered: "It is because he had already lost all other possessions and had
nothing else left that he played offering you as a stake."
Then
he told her the whole story of how Yudhishthira had lost all his wealth and had
finally betted her, after having first forfeited his brothers and himself.
Though
the news was such as to break the heart and kill the soul, still, Draupadi soon
regained her fortitude and, with anger blazing from her eyes, said: "O
charioteer, return. Ask of him who played the game whether in it he first lost
himself, or his wife. Ask this question in the open assembly. Bring me his
answer and then you can take me." Prathikami went to the assembly and,
turning to Yudhishthira, asked of him the question put by Draupadi.
Yudhishthira
remained speechless.
Then
Duryodhana bade Prathikami bring Panchali herself there to question her
husband. Prathikami went again to Draupadi and humbly said: "Princess, the
mean-minded Duryodhana desires you to go to the assembly and ask your question
yourself."
Draupadi
answered: "No. Return to the assembly and put the question and demand an
answer."
Prathikami
did so.
Enraged,
Duryodhana turned to his brother Duhsasana and said: "This man is a fool
and is afraid of Bhima. Go and fetch Draupadi even if you have to drag her
here."
Thus
commanded, the wicked Duhsasana at once sped with joy on his errand. He
proceeded to the place where Draupadi was, shouting: "Come, why do you
delay? You are now ours. Be not shy, beautiful lady. Make yourself agreeable to
us, now that you have been won by us. Come to the assembly" and in his
impatience, he bade as though to take her thither by force.
Panchali
rose trembling, heart-stricken with sorrow and started to fly for refuge to the
inner apartments of Dhritarashtra's queen. Duhsasana darted after her, caught
her by the hair and dragged her to the assembly.
It
is with a shudder of repugnance that we relate how the sons of Dhritarashtra
stooped to commit this vilest of deeds.
As
soon as she came to the assembly, Draupadi controlled her anguish and appealed
to the elders gathered there:
"How
could you consent to my being staked by the king who was himself trapped into
the game and cheated by wicked persons, expert in the art? Since he was no
longer a free man, how could he stake anything at all?"
Then,
stretching out her arms and raising her flowing eyes in agonised supplication
she cried in a voice broken with sobs:
"If
you have loved and revered the mothers who bore you and gave you suck, if the
honor of wife or sister or daughter has been dear to you, if you believe in God
and dharma, forsake me not in this horror more cruel than death"'
At
this heart-broken cry, as of a poor fawn stricken to death, the elders hung
their heads in grief and shame. Bhima could hold himself no longer. His
swelling heart found relief in a roar of wrath that shook the very walls, and turning
to Yudhishthira he said bitterly:
"Even
abandoned professional gamblers would not stake the harlots who live with them,
and you, worse than they, have left the daughter of Drupada to the mercy of
these ruffians. I cannot bear this injustice. You are the cause of this great
crime. Brother Sahadeva, bring fire. I am going to set fire to those hands of
his which cast the dice."
Arjuna
however remonstrated gently with Bhima: "You have never before spoken
thus. The plot devised by our enemies is entangling us also in its meshes and
inciting us to wicked action. We should not succumb and play their game.
Beware."
With
a superhuman effort, Bhima controlled his anger.
Vikarna,
the son of Dhritarashtra, could not bear the sight of the agony of Panchali. He
rose up and said: "O Kshatriya heroes, why are you silent? I am a mere
youth, I know, but your silence compels me to speak. Listen. Yudhishthira was
enticed to this game by a deeply plotted invitation and he pledged this lady
when he had no right to do so, because she does not belong to Yudhishthira
alone. For that reason alone the wager is illegal. Besides, Yudhishthira had
already lost his freedom, and being no longer a free man, how could he have a
right to offer her as a stake? And there is this further objection. It was
Sakuni who suggested her as a pledge, which is against the rules of the game,
under which neither player may demand a specific bet. If we consider all these
points, we must admit that Panchali has not been legally won by us. This is my
opinion."
When
the young Vikarna spoke thus courageously, the wisdom given by God to the
members of the assembly suddenly illumined their minds. There were great shouts
of applause. They shouted: "Dharma has been saved. Dharma has been
saved."
At
that moment Karna rose up and said:
"O
Vikarna, forgetting that there are elders in this assembly, you lay down the
law though you are but a stripling. By your ignorance and rashness you are
injuring the very family which gave you birth, just as the flame generated by
the arani destroys its source, the stick. It is an ill bird that fouls its own
nest. At the very beginning, when Yudhishthira was a free man, he forfeited all
he possessed and that, of course, included Draupadi. Hence, Draupadi had
already come into Sakuni's possession. There is nothing more to be said in the
matter. Even the clothes they have on are now Sakuni's property. O Duhsasana,
seize the garments of the Pandavas and the robes of Draupadi and hand them over
to Sakuni."
As
soon as they heard the cruel words of Karna, the Pandavas, feeling that they
had to stand the test of dharma to the bitter end, flung off their upper
garments to show that they were ready to follow the path of honor and right at
any cost.
Seeing
this, Duhsasana went to Draupadi and made ready to seize her clothes by force.
All earthly aid had failed, and in the anguish of utter helplessness, she
implored divine mercy and succour:
"O
Lord of the World," she wailed, "God whom I adore and trust, abandon
me not in this dire plight. You are my sole refuge. Protect me." And she
fainted away.
Then,
as the wicked Duhsasana started his shameful work of pulling at Panchali's
robes and good men shuddered and averted their eyes, even then, in the mercy of
God a miracle occurred.
In
vain Duhsasana toiled to strip off her garments, for as he pulled off each,
ever fresh garments were seen to clothe her body, and soon a great heap of
resplendent clothes was piled up before the assembly till Duhsasana desisted
and sat down in sheer fatigue.
The
assembly trembled at this marvel and good men praised God and wept. Bhima with
quivering lips, loudly uttered this terrible oath: "May I never go to the
blest abode of my ancestors if I do not rend the breast and drink the heart's
blood of this sinful Duhsasana, this shame of the Bharata race."
Suddenly,
the howling of jackals could be heard. Donkeys and carnivorous birds began to
send forth weird dissonant cries from all sides, portending calamities to come.
Dhritarashtra
who realised that this incident would be the cause of the destruction of his
race, for once acted with wisdom and courage. He called Draupadi to his side
and attempted to soothe her with words of gentleness and affection.
Then
he turned to Yudhishthira and said: "You are so blameless that you can
have no enemies. Forgive in your magnanimity the evil done by Duryodhana and
dismiss all memory of it from your mind. Take back your kingdom and riches and
everything else and be free and prosperous. Return to Indraprastha." And
the Pandavas left that accursed hall, bewildered and stunned, and seeing a
miracle in this sudden release from calamity. But it was too good to endure.
After
Yudhishthira and his brothers had departed, there was a long and angry
discussion in the palace of the Kauravas. Incited by Duhsasana, Sakuni and
others, Duryodhana upbraided his father with having frustrated their well-laid
plans on the very threshold of success.
He
quoted Brihaspati's aphorism that no device could be considered wrong which had
as its object the destruction of formidable enemies.
He
spoke in detail on the prowess of the Pandavas and expressed his conviction
that the only hope of overcoming the Pandavas lay in guile and taking advantage
of their pride and sense of honor.
No
self-respecting kshatriya could decline an invitation to a game of dice.
Duryodhana secured his doting father's reluctant and ominous approval to a plan
to entice Yudhishthira once again to a game of dice.
A
messenger was accordingly dispatched after Yudhisthira who had taken his
departure for Indraprastha. He came up with Yudhishthira before the latter had
reached his destination and invited him on behalf of king Dhritarashtra to come
back.
On
hearing this invitation, Yudhishthira said: "Good and evil come from
destiny and cannot be avoided. If we must play again we must, that is all. A
challenge to dice cannot in honor be refused. I must accept it." Truly, as
Sri Vyasa says: "There never was and never can be an antelope of gold!
Yet, Rama went in vain pursuit of what seemed one. Surely, when calamities are
imminent, the judgment is first destroyed."
Dharmaputra
returned to Hastinapura and set again for a game with Sakuni, though everyone
in the assembly tried to dissuade him.
He
seemed a mere pawn moved by Kali to relieve the burden of the world.
The
stake played for was that the defeated party should go with his brothers into
exile to the forest and remain there for twelve years and spend the thirteenth
year incognito. If they were recognised in the thirteenth year, they should go
again into exile for twelve years.
Needless
to say, Yudhishthira met with defeat on this occasion also, and the Pandavas
took the vows of those who are to go to the forest.
All
the members of the assembly bent down their heads in shame.
WHEN
the Pandavas set out for the forest, there arose a great clamor of lamentation
from people who thronged the streets and climbed the roofs and towers and trees
to see them go.
The
princes, who, of yore, rode in jewelled chariots or on lordly elephants to
strains of auspicious music, now walked away from their birthright on weary
feet, accompanied by weeping crowds. On all sides cries arose of: "Fie and
Alas! Does not God see this from His heaven?"
The
blind Dhritarashtra sent for Vidura and asked him to describe the departure of
the Pandavas into exile. Vidura replied: "Yudhishthira, the son of Kunti,
went with his face covered with a cloth. Bhima went behind with his eyes
lowered on his arms. Arjuna proceeded scattering sand on his path. Nakula and
Sahadeva besmeared their bodies with dust and closely followed Yudhishthira.
Draupadi accompanied Dharmaputra, her dishevelled hair covering her face and
her eyes streaming with tears. Dhaumya, the priest, went along with them
singing the Sama hymns, addressed to Yama, the Lord of Death."
When
he heard these words, Dhritarashtra was filled with ever-greater fear and
anxiety than before. He asked: "What do the citizens say?"
Vidura
answered: "O great king, I shall tell you in their own words what the
citizens of all castes and creeds say: 'Our leaders have left us. Fie on the
elders of the Kuru race who have suffered such things to happen! The covetous
Dhritarashtra and his sons have driven away the sons of Pandu to the forest.'
While the citizens blame us thus, the heavens are vexed with cloudless
lightning, and the distressed earth quakes, and there are other evil
portents."
While
Dhritarashtra and Vidura were conversing thus, the sage Narada suddenly
appeared before them. Narada declared: "Fourteen years from this day the
Kauravas will become extinct as the result of the crime committed by
Duryodhana" and vanished from sight.
Duryodhana
and his companions were filled with fear and approached Drona with a prayer
never to abandon them, whatever happened.
Drona
answered gravely: "I believe with the wise that the Pandavas are of divine
birth and unconquerable. Yet my duty is to fight for the sons of Dhritarashtra
who rely on me and whose salt I eat. I shall strive for them, heart and soul.
But destiny is all-powerful. The Pandavas will surely return from exile,
burning with anger. I should know what anger is, for I dethroned and dishonored
Drupada on account of my anger towards him. Implacably revengeful, he has
performed a sacrifice so that he might be blessed with a son who would kill me.
It is said Dhrishtadyumna is that son. As destiny would have it, he is the
brother-in-law and fast friend of the Pandavas. And things are moving as
foreordained. Your actions tend in the same direction and your days are
numbered. Lose no time in doing good while you may; perform great sacrifice,
enjoy sinless pleasures, give alms to the needy. Nemesis will overtake you in
the fourteenth year. Duryodhana, make peace withYudhishthira this is my counsel
to you. But, of course, you will do what you like."
Duryodhana
was not at all pleased with these words of Drona.
Sanjaya
asked Dhritarashtra: "O king, why are you worried?"
The
blind king replied: "How can I know peace after having injured the
Pandavas?"
Sanjaya
said: "What you say is quite true. The victim of adverse fate will first
become perverted, utterly losing his sense of right and wrong. Time, the all
destroyer, does not take a club and break the head of a man but by destroying
his judgment, makes him act madly to his own ruin. Your sons have grossly
insulted Panchali and put themselves on the path of destruction."
Dhritarashtra
said: "I did not follow the wise path of dharma and statesmanship but
suffered myself to be misled by my foolish son and, as you say, we are fast
hastening towards the abyss."
Vidura
used to advise Dhritarashtra earnestly. He would often tell him: "Your son
has committed a great wrong. Dharmaputra has been cheated. Was it not your duty
to turn your children to the path of virtue and pull them away from vice? You
should order even now that the Pandavas get back the kingdom granted to them by
you. Recall Yudhishthira from the forest and make peace with him. You should
even restrain Duryodhana by force if he will not listen to reason."
At
first Dhritarashtra would listen in sad silence when Vidura spoke thus, for he
knew Vidura to be a wiser man than himself who wished him well. But gradually
his patience wore thin with repeated homilies.
One
day, Dhritarashtra could stand it no longer. "O Vidura," he burst
out, "you are always speaking for the Pandavas and against my sons. You do
not seek our good. Duryodhana was born of my loins. How can I give him up? What
is the use of advising such an unnatural course? I have lost my faith in you
and do not need you anymore. You are free to go to the Pandavas if you
like." Then, turning his back on Vidura, he retired to the inner
apartments.
Vidura
sorrowfully felt that the destruction of the Kuru race was certain and, taking
Dhritarashtra at his word, drove in a chariot with fleet horses to the forest
where the Pandavas lived.
Dhritarashtra
was filled with anxious remorse. He reflected thin himself: "What have I
done? I have only strengthened Duryodhana, while driving the wise Vidura to the
Pandavas."
But
later he called for Sanjaya and asked him to bear a repentant message to Vidura
imploring him to forgive the thoughtless words of an unhappy father and to
return.
Sanjaya
hurried to the hermitage where the Pandavas were staying and found them clad in
deer-skin and surrounded by sages.
He
also saw Vidura there and conveyed Dhritarashtra's message adding that the blind king would die broken-hearted
if he did not return.
The
soft-hearted Vidura, who was dharma incarnate, was greatly moved and returned
to Hastinapura.
Dhritarashtra
embraced Vidura and the difference between them was washed away in tears of
mutual affection.
One
day, the sage Maitreya came to the court of Dhritarashtra and was welcomed with
great respect.
Dhritarashtra
craved his blessing and asked him: "Revered sir, you have certainly met my
beloved children, the Pandavas, in Kurujangala. Are they well? Will mutual
affection abide in our family without any diminution?"
Maitreya
said: "I accidentally met Yudhishthira in the Kamyaka forest. The sages of
the place had come to see him. I learnt of the events that took place in
Hastinapura, and I marvelled that such things should have been permitted while
Bhishma and yourself were alive."
Later,
Maitreya saw Duryodhana who was also in the court and advised him, for his own good, not to
injure but to make peace with the Pandavas who were not only mighty themselves
but related to Krishna and Drupada.
The
obstinate and foolish Duryodhana merely laughed, slapping his thighs in derision
and, tearing the ground with his feet and without granting an answer, turned
away.
Maitreya
grew angry and looking at Duryodhana said: "Are you so arrogant and do you
slap your thighs in derision of one who wishes you well? Your thighs will be
broken by a Bhima's mace and you will die on the battlefield." At this
Dhritarashtra jumped up, fell at the feet of the sage and begged forgiveness.
Maitreya
said: "My curse will not work if your son makes peace with the Pandavas.
Otherwise it will have effect," and strode indignantly out of the
assembly.
As
SOON as the news of the slaying of Sisupala by Krishna reached his friend
Salva, he became very angry and besieged Dwaraka with a mighty force.
Krishna
having not yet returned to Dwaraka, old Ugrasena was in charge of the defence
of the city. The sieges described in the Mahabharata seem very much like those
in wars of the present day.
Dwaraka
was a strongly garrisoned fortress built on an island and well provided with
means of defence. Ample barracks had been provided and there was an abundant
supply of food and weapons and the garrison included many illustrious warriors.
Ugrasena
imposed a stringent ban upon drinking and amusements generally for the period
of the siege. All the bridges were demolished and ships were forbidd enentry
into ports in the realm.
Iron
spikes were planted in the moats around the fortress and the city walls kept in
good repair.
All
entrances to the city were guarded with barbed wire and permits and passwords
strictly controlled ingress and egress. Thus no arrangements were neglected
that could further strengthen the city which nature had already made
impregnable.
The
pay of the soldiers was increased. Volunteers for service were rigidly tested
before being accepted as soldiers.
The
siege was so rigorously pushed that the garrison suffered great privations.
Krishna, when he returned, was struck to the heart at the sufferings of his
beloved city and he compelled Salva immediately to raise the siege, by
attacking and defeating him.
It
was only afterwards that Krishna learnt for the first time of the events at
Hastinapura, the game of dice and the exile of the Pandavas. At once be set out
for the forest where the Pandavas were living.
Along
with Krishna went many, including men of the Bhoja and Vrishni tribes,
Dhrishtaketu, the king of the Chedi country, and the Kekayas who were all
devoted to the Pandavas.
They
were filled with righteous indignation when they heard of Duryodhana's perfidy
and cried out that surely the earth would drink the blood of such wicked
people.
Draupadi
approached Sri Krishna and, in a voice drowned in tears and broken with sobs,
told the story of her wrongs. She said: "I was dragged to the assembly when
I had but a single garment on my body. The sons of Dhritarashtra insulted me
most outrageously and gloated over my agony. They thought that I had become
their slave and accosted me and treated me as one. Even Bhishma and
Dhritarashtra forgot my birth and breeding and my relationship to them. O
Janardhana, even my husbands did not protect me from the jeers and the ribald
insults of those foul ruffians. Bhima's bodily strength and Arjuna's Gandiva
bow were alike of no avail. Under such supreme provocation even weaklings would
have found strength and courage to strike the vile insulter dead. The Pandavas
are renowned heroes and yet Duryodhana lives! I, the daughter-in-law of the
emperor Pandu, was dragged by my hair. I, the wife of five heroes, was dishonored.
O Madhusudana, even you had deserted me." She stood trembling, utterly
unable to continue, for the grief convulsed her.
Krishna
was deeply moved and he consoled the weeping Draupadi. He said: "Those who
tormented you will be stricken to death in the bloody quagmire of a lost
battle. Wipe your eyes. I solemnly promise that your grievous wrongs shall be
amply avenged. I shall help the Pandavas in every way. You will become an
empress. The heavens may fall, the Himalayas may split in twain, the earth may crumble
or the boundless sea may dry up, but, I tell you verily, my words shall stand.
I swear this," and Krishna took a solemn vow before Draupadi.
This
vow, it will be seen, was in perfect accord with the purpose of the Lord's
avatars, as declared in scriptures:
"For
protecting the righteous, for destroying the wicked and for firmly upholding
the law, I am born on earth age after age."
Dhrishtadyumna
also consoled his sister and told her how nemesis would overtake the Kauravas.
He
said: "I will kill Drona, Sikhandin will cause Bhishma's fall. Bhima will
take the lives of the wicked Duryodhana and his brothers. Arjuna will slay
Karna, the charioteer's son."
Sri
Krishna said: "When this calamity befell you, I was in Dwaraka. Had I been
in Hastinapur, I would never have allowed this fraudulent game of dice to take
place. Uninvited, I would have gone there and stirred up Drona, Kripa and the
other elders to a sense of duty. I would, at all costs, have prevented this
destructive play of dice. When Sakuni was cheating you, I was fighting King
Salva who had besieged my city. It was only after I had defeated him that I
came to know of the game of dice and the subsequent sordid story. It grieves me
that I am not able to remove your sorrows immediately but you know, some water
must be lost before a broken dam is restored."
Then Krishna took leave and returned to Dwaraka with
Subhadra, the wife of Arjuna, and their child, Abhimanyu.
Dhrishtadyumna
went back to Panchala taking with him the sons of Draupadi.
IN
the beginning of their stay in the forest, Bhima and Draupadi used, on
occasions, to argue with Yudhishthira.
They
would plead that only righteous anger befitted a kshatriya and that patience
and forbearance under slights and insults were not worthy of him.
They
would quote weighty authorities and argue vehemently in support of their
contention. Yudhishthira would firmly reply that they should abide by the
promise they had made and that forbearance was the highest virtue of all.
Bhima
was burning with impatience to attack and kill Duryodhana immediately and win
back the kingdom. He thought it unworthy of warriors to continue to dwell
tamely in the forest.
Bhima
said to Yudhishthira: "You speak like those who repeat Vedic mantras and
are satisfied with the sound of the words though ignorant of their
meaning. Your intellect has become
confused. You are born as a kshatriya and yet you do not think or behave like
one. You have become a brahmana by temperament. You know, the scriptures enjoin
on a kshatriya sternness and enterprise. We should not let the wicked sons of
Dhritarashtra have their way. Vain is the birth of a kshatriya who does not
conquer his deceitful enemies. This is my opinion, and to me, if we go to hell
by killing a deceitful foe, such hell is heaven. Your forbearance burns us
worse than fire. It scorches Arjuna and myself day and night, making us
sleepless. Those miscreants have seized our kingdom by fraud and are enjoying
it, while you lie torpid like a gorged python. You say that we should abide by
our promise. How can the world-renowned Arjuna live incognito? Can the
Himalayas be hidden under a handful of grass? How can the lion-hearted Arjuna,
Nakula and Sahadeva live in hiding? Can the famous Draupadi walk about
unrecognized by others? Even if we do these impossible things, the son of
Dhritarashtra will find out through his spies. Hence, this promise of ours is
impossible of performance and has been put on us merely to thrust us out again
for another thirteen years. The sastras too support me when I say that a
filched promise is no promise. A handful of grass thrown to a tired bull ought
to be enough as expiation for breaking such a promise. You should resolve to
kill our enemies immediately. There is no higher duty for a kshatriya."
Bhima
was never tired of pressing his view. Draupadi also would refer to the dishonor
she had suffered at the hands of Duryodhana, Karna and Duhsasana and would
quote authorities from the scriptures that would give Yudhishthira anxiety to
think.
He
would sometimes answer with common maxims of politics and refer to the relative
strength of the parties. He would say:
"Our enemy has such adherents as Bhurisravas, Bhishma, Drona, Karna and
Aswatthama. Duryodhana and his brothers are expert in warfare. Many feudatory
princes, as well as mighty monarchs, are now on their side. Bhishma and Drona,
indeed, have no respect for Duryodhana's character, but will not give him up
and are prepared to sacrifice their lives on his side in the battlefield. Karna
is a brave and skilful fighter, well versed in the use of all the weapons. The
course of war is unpredictable and success is uncertain. There is no use in
being hasty." Thus Yudhishthira managed with difficulty to restrain the
impatience of the younger Pandavas.
Later,
as advised by Vyasa, Arjuna went to the Himalayas to practise austerities for
the purpose of getting new weapons from the devas. Arjuna took leave of his
brothers and went to Panchali to bid her farewell.
She
said: "O Dhananjaya, may you prosper in your mission. May God give you all
that Kuntidevi hoped and wished for when you were born. The happiness, life,
honor and prosperity of us all depend on you. Return after acquiring new
weapons." Thus Panchali sent him forth with auspicious words.
It
is noteworthy that though the voice was Draupadi the wife's, yet the
benediction was Kunti the mother's for the words were: "May God give all
that Kuntidevi wished and hoped for when you were born."
Arjuna
passed through dense forests and reached the mountain of Indrakila, where he
met an old brahmana. The ascetic smiled and spoke affectionately to Arjuna:
"Child,
you are clad in armor and carry weapons. Who are you? Weapons are of no use
here. What do you seek in this garb of a kshatriya in this abode of ascetics
and saints who have conquered anger and passion?" That was Indra, the king
of gods, who came to have the pleasure of meeting his son.
Arjuna
bowed to his father and said: "I seek arms. Bless me with weapons."
Indra replied: "O Dhananjaya, what is the use of weapons? Ask for
pleasures or seek to go to higher worlds for enjoyment."
Arjuna
answered: "O king of gods, I do not seek pleasures of higher worlds. I
have come here after leaving Panchali and my brothers in the forest. I seek but
weapons."
The
thousand-eyed said: "If you be blessed by the vision of god Siva, the
three-eyed god, and obtain his grace, you will receive divine weapons. Do
penance unto Siva."
Thus
saying Indra disappeared. Then, Arjuna went to the Himalayas and did penance to
obtain the grace of Siva.
Siva
under the guise of a hunter and accompanied by his divine spouse Umadevi,
entered the forest in pursuit of game.
The
chase grew fast and furious, and presently a wild boar started charging Arjuna,
who shot an arrow into it with his Gandiva bow at the same moment that the
hunter Siva transfixed it with a shaft from his Pinaka bow.
Arjuna
shouted in loud voice: "Who are you? Why are you ranging in this forest
with your wife? How dare you shoot at the game I had aimed at?"
The
hunter replied as though in contempt: "This forest, full of game, belongs
to us, who live in it. You do not look tough enough to be a forester. Your
limbs and bearing bespeak a soft luxurious life. It is rather for me to ask
what you are doing here." He also added that it was his shaft that had
killed the boar, and that if Arjuna thought differently be was welcome to fight
about it.
Nothing
could please Arjuna better. He jumped up and showered snake-like arrows at
Siva. To his amazement, they seemed to have no effect on the hunter and fell
back hurtless like storm-driven rain from a mountain peak.
When
he had no more arrows, he started to strike Siva with his bow. But the hunter
seemed not to heed it and wrenched with ease the bow out of Arjuna's hand and
burst into laughter.
Arjuna,
who had been disarmed with humiliating ease by one who seemed an ordinary
hunter of the forest, was struck with amazement, almost amounting to doubt. But
undaunted, he drew his sword and continued the combat.
The
sword was split into pieces on the hunter's adamantine frame. There was now
nothing to do but to grapple with the formidable unknown. But here again he was
outmatched.
The
hunter caught him in an iron clasp so close that Arjuna was quite
helpless. Worsted and overmastered,
Arjuna humbly sought divine aid and meditated on Siva. As he did so, a light
broke on his troubled mind, and at once he knew who the hunter really was.
He
fell at the feet of the Lord and, in a broken voice of repentance and adoration
he prayed for forgiveness. "I forgive you," said Siva smilingly and
gave him back his Gandiva bow, as well as the other weapons, of which he had
been deprived. He also bestowed on Arjuna the marvellous Pasupata weapon.
Arjuna's
body, battered in the unequal combat, was made whole and perfect by the divine
touch of the three-eyed god and became a hundred fold stronger and more
brilliant than before.
"Go
to heaven and render dutiful respect to your father Indra," said Siva and
vanished from view like the setting sun.
Arjuna
was overcome with joy and exclaimed: "Have I really seen the Lord face to
face and have I been blessed with his divine touch? What more do I need?"
At
that moment, Matali, the charioteer of Indra, came there with his chariot and
took Arjuna to the kingdom of the gods.
BALARAMA
and Krishna came with their retinue to the abode of the Pandavas in the forest.
Deeply distressed by what he saw, Balarama said to Krishna:
"O
Krishna, it would seem that virtue and wickedness bear contrary fruit in this
life. For see, the wicked Duryodhana is ruling his kingdom clad in silk and
gold, while the virtuous Yudhishthira lives in the forest wearing the bark of
trees. Seeing such unmerited prosperity and undeserved privation, men have lost
their faith in God. The praise of virtue in the sastras seems mere mummery when
we see the actual results of good and evil in this world. How will
Dhritarashtra justify his conduct and defend himself when he is face to face
with the god of death? Even the mountains and the earth weep at the sight of
the blameless Pandavas dwelling in the forests with the blessed Draupadi, born
from the sacrificial fire."
Satyaki,
who was seated near, said: "O Balarama, this is no time for lamenting.
Should we wait till Yudhishthira asks us to do our duty for the Pandavas? While
you and Krishna and all other relations are living, why should the Pandavas
waste their precious years in the forest? Let us collect our forces and attack
Duryodhana. With the army of the Vrishnis, we are surely strong enough to
destroy the Kauravas. Why, where is the need to foil Karna's vaunted archery
and cut off his head. Let us kill Duryodhana and his adherents in the
battlefield and hand over the kingdom to Abhimanyu if the Pandavas wish to keep
their word and stay in the forest. This is good for them and befits us as men
of valor."
Vasudeva,
who was listening carefully to this speech, said: "What you say is true.
But the Pandavas would not like to receive from the hands of others what they
have not won by their own efforts. Draupadi for one, born of a heroic race as
she is, would not hear of it. Yudhishthira will never give up the path of
righteousness for love or fear. When the stipulated period of exile is over the
kings of Panchala, Kekaya and Chedi and ourselves will unite our forces to help
the Pandavas to conquer their enemies."
Yudhishthira
was delighted at these words of Krishna. "Sri Krishna knows my mind,"
said he. "Truth is greater than power or prosperity and has to be guarded
at all costs and not the kingdom. When he wants us to fight, he shall find us
ready. The heroes of the Vrishni race may now return with the certainty that we
shall meet again when the time is ripe." With these words Yudhishthira
gave them leave to return.
Arjuna
was still away in the Himalayas and Bhima's anxiety and impatience became well
nigh insupportable. He said to Yudhishthira:
"You
know that our life depends on Arjuna. He has been away very long, and we have
had no tidings of him. If he should be lost to us, then neither the king of
Panchala, nor Satyaki nor even Sri Krishna can save us, and I for one cannot
survive that loss. All this we owe to that mad game of dice, our sorrows and
sufferings, as well as the growing strength of our foes. To be dwelling in the
forest is not the duty enjoined on a kshatriya. We should immediately recall
Arjuna and wage war with the sons of Dhritarashtra, with the help of Sri
Krishna. I shall be satisfied only when the wicked Sakuni, Karna and Duryodhana
are slain. After this clear duty is done, you may, if you like, return to the
forest and live a life of asceticism. It is not a sin to kill by stratagem an
enemy who has resorted to stratagem. I have heard that the Atharva Veda has
incantations, which can compress time and reduce its span. If we could, by such
means, squeeze thirteen years into thirteen days, we would be perfectly
justified in doing so, and you will permit me on the fourteenth day to kill
Duryodhana."
Hearing
these words of Bhima, Dharmaputra affectionately embraced him and sought to
restrain his impetuosity. "Beloved brother, as soon as the period of
thirteen years is over, Arjuna, the hero, with the Gandiva bow, and yourself
will fight and kill Duryodhana. Be patient till then. Duryodhana and his
followers, who are sunk in sin, cannot escape. Be assured of it." While
the sorrow-stricken brothers were thus engaged in debate, the great sage
Brihadaswa came to the hermitage of the Pandavas and was received with the
customary honors.
After
a while, Yudhishthira said to him: "Revered sage, our deceitful enemies,
drew us into this game of dice and cheated us of our kingdom and riches, and
drove my heroic brothers, as well as Panchali and myself, to the forest.
Arjuna, who left us a long time ago to get divine weapons, has not returned as
yet and we miss him sorely. Will he return with divine arms? And when will he
be back? Surely never was there in this world a man who suffered so much sorrow
as myself."
The
great sage replied: "Do not let your mind dwell on sorrow. Arjuna will
return with divine weapons and you will conquer your enemies in the fitness of
time. You say that there is no one in this world that is as unfortunate as you.
Now, that is not true, though everyone, tried by adversity, is inclined to
claim pre-eminence in sorrow, because things felt are more than things heard or
seen. Have you heard of king Nala of Nishadha? He suffered more sorrows than
yourself even in the forest. He was deceived by Pushkara at a game of dice. He
lost his wealth and kingdom and had to go in exile to the forest. Less
fortunate than you, he had not with him his brothers or brahmanas. The
influence of Kali, the spirit of the dark age, deprived him of his
discrimination and good sense. And not knowing what he was doing, he deserted
his wife who had accompanied him, and wandered about in the forest, solitary
and almost mad. Now, compare your state with his. You have the company of your
heroic brothers and devoted wife and are supported by a few learned brahmanas
in your adversity. Your mind is sound and steady. Self-pity is natural, but you
are really not so badly off."
The
sage then narrated the life of Nala which constitutes twenty-eight chapters of
the great epic. The sage concluded with these words:
"O
Pandava, Nala was tried by sorrows more agonising than yours, yet he triumphed
over them all and his life ended happily. You have the alleviations of
unclouded intellect and the society of your nearest and dearest. You spend much
of your time in exalted contemplation of dharma and in holy converse with
brahmanas who are learned in the Vedas and Vedantas. Bear your trials and
tribulations with fortitude, for they are the lot of man and not peculiar to
you."
Thus
did the sage Brihadaswa console Yudhishthira.
THE
brahmanas, who had been with Yudhishthira in Indraprastha, had followed him to
the forest. It was difficult to maintain such a large establishment.
Some
time after Arjuna had gone on his quest of Pasupata, a brahmana sage named
Lomasa came to the abode of the Pandavas.
He
advised Yudhishthira to minimize his retinue before going on pilgrimage as it
would be difficult to move freely from place to place with a large following.
Yudhishthira,
who had long felt that difficulty, announced to his followers that such of
them, as were unaccustomed to hardship and to hard and scanty fare and those
who had followed merely in token of loyalty, might return to Dhritarashtra or,
if they preferred it, go to Drupada, the King of Panchala.
Later,
with a greatly reduced retinue, the Pandavas started on a pilgrimage to holy
places, acquainting themselves with the stories and traditions relating to
each. The story of Agastya was one such.
Agastya,
it is said, once saw some ancestral spirits dangling head down and asked them
who they were and how they had come to be in that unpleasant plight.
They
replied: "Dear child, we are your ancestors. If you discharge not your
debt to us by marrying and begetting progeny, there will be no one after you to
offer us oblations. We have, therefore, resorted to this austerity, in order to
persuade you to save us from this peril."
When
Agastya heard this, he decided to marry.
The
king of the country of Vidarbha was childless and, so, careworn. He repaired to
Agastya to get his blessing. In granting him the boon, Agastya announced that
the king would be the father of a beautiful girl, who, he stipulated should be
given in marriage to him.
Soon
the queen gave birth to a girl who was named Lopamudra. She grew with years
into a maiden of such rare beauty and charm that she became celebrated in the
kshatriya world. But no prince dared to woo her for fear of Agastya.
Later,
the sage Agastya came to Vidarbha and demanded the hand of the king's daughter.
The king was reluctant to give the delicately nurtured princess in marriage to
a sage leading the primitive life of a forester but he also feared the anger of
the sage if he said nay, and was plunged in sorrow.
Lopamudra,
greatly concerned, discovered the cause of her parent's unhappiness and
expressed her readiness, nay her desire, to marry the sage.
The
king was relieved, and the marriage of Agastya and Lopamudra was celebrated in
due course. When the princess set out to accompany the sage, he bade her give
up her costly garments and valuable jewels.
Unquestioningly
Lopamudra distributed her priceless jewels and garments amongst her companions
and attendants, and covering herself in deerskin and garments of bark, she joyfully
accompanied the sage.
During
the time Lopamudra and Agastya spent in tapas and meditation at Gangadwara, a
strong and abiding love sprang up between them. For conjugal life, Lopamudra's
modesty shrank from the lack of privacy in a forest hermitage. And one day,
with blushing and humbleness she expressed her mind to her husband.
She
said: "My desire is that I may have the royal bedding, the beautiful robes
and the valuable jewels I had when I was in my father's place and that you too
may have splendid garments and ornaments. And then we shall enjoy life to our
heart's content."
Agastya
smilingly replied: "I have neither the wealth nor the facilities to
provide what you want. Are we not beggars living in the forest?"
But
Lopamudra knew her lord's yogic power, and said: "Lord, you are
all-powerful by the strength of your austerities. You can get the wealth of the
whole world in a moment if you but will."
Agastya
said that no doubt that was so, but, if he spent his austerities in gaining
things of such little moment as riches, they would soon dwindle to nothing.
She
replied: "I do not wish that. What I desire is that you should earn in the
ordinary way sufficient wealth for us to live in ease and comfort."
Agastya
consented and set out as an ordinary brahmana to beg of various kings. Agastya
went to a king who was reputed to be very wealthy. The sage told the king:
"I have come in quest of wealth. Give me what I seek, without causing any
loss or injury to others."
The
king presented a true picture of the income and expenditure of the State and
told him he was free to take what he deemed fit. The sage found from the
accounts that there was no balance left.
The
expenditure of a State turns out always to be at least equal to its income.
This seems to have been the case in ancient times also.
Seeing
this, Agastya said: "To accept any gift from this king, will be a hardship
to the citizens. So, I shall seek elsewhere," and the sage was about to
leave. The king said that he would also accompany him and both of them went to
another State where also they found the same state of affairs.
Vyasa
thus lays down and illustrates the maxim that a king should not tax his
subjects more than necessary for rightful public expenditure and that if one
accepts as gift anything from the public revenues, one adds to the burden of
the subjects to that extent.
Agastya
thought he had better go to the wicked asura Ilvala and try his luck. Ilvala and his brother Vatapi cherished an
implacable hatred towards brahmanas. They had curious plan for killing them.
Ilvala would, with effective hospitality, invite a brahmana to a feast.
By
the power of his magic he would transform his brother Vatapi into a goat and he
would kill this pseudo-goat for food and serve its meat to the guest. In those
days, the brahmanas used to eat meat. The feast over, Ilvala would invoke his
brother Vatapi to come out, for he had the art of bringing back to life those
whom he had killed.
And
Vatapi, who as food had entered the vitals of the unlucky brahmana, would
spring up sound and whole and rend his way out with fiendish laughter, of
course killing the guest in doing so.
In
this manner, many brahmanas had died. Ilvala was very happy when he learnt that
Agastya was in the neighborhood, since he felt that here was a good brahmana
delivered into his hands.
So,
he welcomed him and prepared the usual feast. The sage ate heartily of Vatapi
transformed into a goat, and it only remained for Ilvala to call out Vatapi for
the rending scene. And, as usual, Ilvala repeated the magic formula and
shouted: "Vatapi come out!"
Agastya
smiled and, gently rubbing his stomach, said: "O Vatapi, be digested in my
stomach for the peace and good of the world." Ilvala shouted again and
again in frantic fear: "O Vatapi, come forth."
There
was no response and the sage explained the reason. Vatapi had been digested.
The trick had been tried once too often.
The
asura bowed to Agastya and surrendered to him the riches he sought. Thus was
the sage able to satisfy Lopamudra's desire. Agastya asked her what she would
prefer whether ten ordinarily good sons or one super-good son with the strength
of ten.
Lopamudra
replied she would like to have one exceptionally virtuous and learned son. The
story goes that she was blessed with such a gifted son.
Once
the Vindhyas became jealous of the Meru Mountain and tried to grow in stature,
obstructing the sun, the moon and the planets. Unable to prevent this danger,
the gods sought aid from Agastya. The sage went to the Vindhya Mountain and
said:
"Best
of mountains, stop you’re growing till I cross you on my way to the south and
return north again. After my return, you can grow, as you like. Wait till
then." Since the Vindhya Mountain respected Agastya, it bowed to his
request.
Agastya
did not return north at all, but settled in the south and so the Vindhyas
remain arrested in growth to this day. Such is the story as narrated in the
Mahabharata.
IT
is an error to think that it is easy for a person to lead a life of chastity if
he is brought up in complete ignorance of sensual pleasures. Virtue guarded
only by ignorance is very insecure as illustrated by the following story. It is
told in the Ramayana also, but not in the same detail.
Vibhandaka
who was resplendent like Brahma, the Creator, lived with his son Rishyasringa
in a forest. The latter had not come across any mortal, man or woman, except
his father.
The
country of Anga was once afflicted with a dire famine. Crops had withered for
want of rain and men perished for lack of food. All living things were in
distress. Romapada, the king of the country, approached the brahmanas to advise
him of some means of saving the kingdom from famine.
The
brahmanas replied: "Best of kings, there is a young sage called
Rishyasringa who lives a life of perfect chastity. Invite him to our kingdom.
He has won the power, by his austerities, of bringing rain and plenty wherever
he goes."
The
king discussed with his courtiers the means by which Rishyasringa could be
brought from the hermitage of the sage Vibhandaka. In accordance with their
advice, he called together the most charming courtesans of the city and
entrusted them with the mission of bringing Rishyasringa to Anga.
The
damsels were in a quandary. On the one hand, they feared to disobey the king.
On the other, they also feared the sage's wrath. Finally, they made up their
minds to go, relying on Providence to help them, in achieving the good work of
rescuing the stricken land from famine.
They
were suitably equipped for their enterprise before being sent to the
hermitage. The leader of this band of
courtesans made a beautiful garden of a big boat, with artificial trees and
creepers, with an imitation ashrama in the center.
She
had the boat moored in the river near Vibhandaka's hermitage, and the
courtesans visited the hermitage with quaking hearts. Luckily for them, the
sage was not at home. Feeling that this was the opportune moment, one of the
beautiful damsels went to the sage's son.
She
thus addressed Rishyasringa: "Great sage, are you well? Have you
sufficient roots and fruits? Are the penances of the rishis of the forest
proceeding satisfactorily? Is your father's glory constantly growing? Is your
own study of the Vedas progressing?" This was how rishis used to accost
one another in those days.
The
youthful anchorite had never before seen such a beautiful human form or heard
such a sweet voice.
The
instinctive yearning for society, especially of the opposite sex, though he had
never seen a woman before, began to work on his mind from the moment he beheld
that graceful form.
He
thought that she was a young sage like himself, and felt a strange
irrepressible joy surging up in his soul. He answered, fixing eyes on his
interlocutor:
"You
seem to be a bright brahmacharin. Who are you? I bow to you. Where is your
hermitage? What are the austerities you are practising?" and he rendered
her the customary offerings.
She
said to him: "At a distance of three yojanas from here is my ashrama. I
have brought fruits for you. I am not fit to receive your prostration, but I
shall return your greetings and salutation in the way customary with us."
She embraced him warmly, fed him with the sweets she had brought, decorated him
with perfumed garlands, and served him with drinks.
She
embraced him again, saying that that was their way of salutation to honored
guests. He thought it a very agreeable way.
Shortly
after, fearing the return of the sage Vibhandaka, the courtesan took her leave
of Rishyasringa saying it was time for her to perform the agnihotra sacrifice
and gently slipped out of the hermitage.
When
Vibhandaka returned to the hermitage, he was shocked to see the place so untidy
with sweet meats scattered all over, for the hermitage had not been cleansed.
The shrubs and creepers looked draggled and untidy.
His
son's face had not its usual lustre but seemed clouded and disturbed as by a
storm of passion. The usual simple duties of the hermitage had been neglected.
Vibhandaka
was troubled and asked his son: "Dear boy, why have you not yet gathered
the sacred firewood? Who has broken these nice plants and shrubs? Has the cow
been milked? Has anyone been here to serve you? Who gave you this strange
garland? Why do you appear worried?"
The
simple and ingenuous Rishyasringa replied: "A brahmacharin of wonderful
form was here. I cannot describe his brightness and beauty or the sweetness of
his voice. My inner being has been filled with indescribable happiness and
affection by listening to his voice and looking at his eyes. When he embraced
me, which it seems is his customary greeting, I experienced a joy which I have
never felt before, no, not even when eating the sweetest fruits," and then
he described to his father the form, beauty and the doings of his fair visitor.
Rishyasringa
added wistfully: "My body seems to burn with desire for the company of
that brahmacharin and I should like to go and find him and bring him here
somehow. How can I give you any idea about his devotion and brightness? My
heart pants to see him."
When
Rishyasringa had thus brokenly expressed yearnings and disturbances to which he
had hitherto been a stranger, Vibhandaka knew what had occurred. He said:
"Child, this was no brahmacharin that you saw, but a malignant demon who
sought, as demons do, to beguile us and hinder our penances and austerities.
They take recourse to many kinds of tricks and stratagems for the purpose. Do
not let them come near you."
After
that Vibhandaka searched in vain for three days in the forest to find out the
wretches who had done this injury, and returned baffled it his purpose.
On
another occasion, when Vibhandaka had gone out of the hermitage to bring roots
and fruits, the courtesan again came softly to the place where Rishyasringa was
seated. As soon as he saw her at a distance, Rishyasringa jumped up and ran to
greet her gushingly, as pent up water surges out of a reservoir that has sprung
a leak.
Even
without waiting for prompting this time, Rishyasringa went near her and after
the customary salutation said: "O
shining brahmacharin, before my father returns let us go to your
hermitage."
This
was just what she had hoped and worked for. And together they entered the boat,
which had been made to look like a hermitage. As soon as the young sage had
entered, the boat was freed from its moorings and floated easily down with its
welcome freight to the kingdom of Anga.
As
might be expected, the young sage had a pleasant and interesting journey and
when he reached Anga, he certainly knew more about the world and its ways than
he had done in the forest.
The
coming of Rishyasringa delighted Romapada infinitely and he took his welcome
guest to the luxuriously provided inner apartments specially prepared for him.
As
foretold by the brahmanas, rain began to pour the instant Rishyasringa set his
foot in the country. The rivers and the lakes were full and the people
rejoiced. Romapada gave his daughter Shanta in marriage to Rishyasringa.
Though
all ended as he had planned, the king was uneasy in his mind, for he was afraid
that Vibhandaka might come in search of his son and pronounce a curse on him.
So,
he sought to mollify Vibhandaka by lining the route he would take with cattle
and kind and by instructing the cowherds in charge to say that they were
Rishyasringa's servants and had come to welcome and honor their master's father
and place themselves at his service.
Not
finding his son anywhere in the hermitage, the enraged Vibhandaka thought that
this might be the work of the king of Anga.
He
crossed intervening rivers and villages and marched to the capital of the king
as if to burn him in his anger. But as at each stage of the journey he saw
magnificent cattle which belonged to his son and was respectfully welcomed by
his son's servants, his angry mood passed gradually as he approached the
capital.
When
he came to the capital, he was received with great honor and taken to the
king's palace where he saw his son sitting in state like the king of the gods
in heaven. He saw by his side his wife, the princess Shanta, whose great beauty
soothed and pleased him.
Vibhandaka
blessed the king. He laid this injunction on his son: "Do all that will
please this king. After the birth of a son, come and join me in the
forest." Rishyasringa did as his father bade him.
Lomasa
concluded the story with these words addressed to Yudhishthira: "Like
Damayanti and Nala, Sita and Rama, Arundhati and Vasishtha, Lopamudra and
Agastya, and Draupadi and yourself, Shanta and Rishyasringa repaired to the
forest in the fullness of time and spent their lives in mutual love and the worship
of God. This is the hermitage where Rishyasringa. lived. Bathe in these waters
and be purified." The Pandavas bathed there and performed their devotions.
IN
the course of their wanderings, the Pandavas reached the hermitage of Raibhya
on the banks of the Ganga.
Lomasa
told them the story of the place: "This is the ghat where Bharata, the son
of Dasaratha, bathed. These waters cleansed Indra of the sin of killing Vritra
unfairly. Here also Sanatkumara became one with God. Aditi, the mother of the
gods, offered oblations on this mountain and prayed to be blessed with a son. O
Yudhishthira, ascend this holy mountain and the misfortunes, which have cast a
cloud on your life, will vanish. Anger and passion will be washed off if you
bathe in the running waters of this river."
Then
Lomasa expatiated in greater detail on the sanctity of the place.
He
began the story thus: "Yavakrida, the son of a sage, met with destruction
in this very place."
He
continued: "There lived in their hermitages two eminent brahmanas, named
Bharadwaja and Raibhya, who were dear friends. Raibhya and his two sons,
Paravasu and Arvavasu, learnt the Vedas and became famed scholars. Bharadwaja
devoted himself wholly to the worship of God. He had a son named Yavakrida who
saw with jealousy and hatred that the brahmanas did not respect his ascetic
father as they did the learned Raibhya. Yavakrida practised hard penance to
gain the grace of Indra. He tortured his body with austerities and thus
awakened the compassion of Indra, who appeared and asked him why he so
mortified his flesh."
Yavakrida
replied: "I wish to be more learned in the Vedas than any has ever been
before. I wish to be a great scholar. I am performing these austerities to
realise that desire. It takes a long time and involves much hardship to learn
the Vedas from a teacher. I am practising austerities to acquire that knowledge
directly. Bless me."
Indra
smiled and said: "O brahmana, you are on the wrong path. Return home, seek
a proper preceptor and learn the Vedas from him. Austerity is not the way to
learning. The path is study and study alone." With these words Indra
vanished. But the son of Bharadwaja would not give up.
He
pursued his course of austerities with even greater rigor, to the horror and
the distress of the gods. Indra again manifested himself before Yavakrida and
warned him again:
"You
have taken the wrong path to acquire knowledge. You can acquire knowledge only
by study. Your father learnt the Vedas by patient study and so can you. Go and
study the Vedas. Desist from this vain mortification of the body."
Yavakrida
did not heed even this second warning of Indra and announced defiantly that if
his prayer were not granted, he would cut off his limbs one by one and offer
them as oblations to the fire. No, he would never give up.
He
continued his penance. One morning, during his austerities, when he went to
bathe in the Ganga, be saw a gaunt old brahmana on the bank, laboriously
throwing handfuls of sand into the water.
Yavakrida
asked: "Old man, what are you doing?" The old man replied: "I am
going to build a dam across this river. When, with handful after handful, I
have built a dam of sand here, people can cross the river with ease. See how
very difficult it is at present to cross it. Useful work, isn't it?"
Yavakrida
laughed and said: "What a fool you must be to think you can build a dam
across this mighty river with your silly handfuls of sand! Arise and take to
some more useful work."
The
old man said: "Is my project more foolish than yours of mastering the
Vedas not by study but by austerities?" Yavakrida now knew that the old
man was Indra. More humble this time, Yavakrida earnestly begged Indra to grant
him learning as a personal boon.
Indra
blessed, and comforted Yavakrida with the following words:
"Well,
I grant you the boon you seek. Go and study the Vedas; you will become
learned."
YAVAKRIDA
studied the Vedas and became learned. He grew vain with the thought that he had
acquired the knowledge of the Vedas through the boon of Indra and not through
human tutelage.
Bharadwaja
did not like this and feared that his son might ruin himself by slighting
Raibhya. He thought it necessary to warm him. "The gods," he said,
"grant boons to foolish people who persistently practise penances, as
intoxicants are sold to fools for money. They lead to loss of self-control, and
this leads to the warping of the mind and utter destruction." He
illustrated his advice by the ancient tale, which is given below.
In
olden times there was a celebrated sage named Baladhi. He had a son whose
untimely death plunged him into grief. So, be practised rigorous penance to get
a son who would never meet with death.
The
gods told the sage that this could never be, for the human race was necessarily
mortal, and there need must be a limit to human life. They asked him to name
his own limit.
The
sage replied: "In that case grant that the life of my son may persist as
long as that mountain lasts." The boon was granted to him and he was duly
blessed with a son named Medhavi.
Medhavi
grew conceited at the thought that he was safe from death forever, since he
would live as long as the mountain existed, and he behaved with arrogance
towards all.
One
day, this vain man showed disrespect to a great sage named Dhanushaksha. At
once that sage cursed that he might be turned to ashes, but the curse took no
effect on Medhavi who remained in perfect health.
Seeing
this, the high-souled sage was puzzled and then remembered the gift Medhavi had
been endowed with at birth. Dhanushaksha
took the form of a wild buffalo and by the power of his penances butted at the
mountain and broke it to pieces and Medhavi fell down dead.
Bharadwaja
concluded the story with this solemn warning to his son: "Learn wisdom
from this old story. Be not ruined by vanity. Cultivate self-restraint. Do not
transgress the limits of good conduct and do not be disrespectful to the great
Raibhya."
It
was springtime. The trees and creepers were beautiful with flowers and the
whole forest was gorgeous with color and sweet with the song of birds.
The
very earth seemed to be under the spell of the god of love. Paravasu's wife was
strolling alone in the garden near the hermitage of Raibhya. She appeared more
than human, in the sweet union in her of beauty, courage and purity.
At
that time Yavakrida came there and was so overwhelmed by her loveliness that he
completely lost his sense and self-control and became as a ravening beast with
lust.
He
accosted her and taking brutal advantage of her fear and shame and
bewilderment, he dragged her to a lonely pot and violated her person.
Raibhya
returned to his hermitage. He saw his daughter in-law weeping, broken-hearted
and inconsolable and learning of the shameful outrage perpetrated on her, he
was seized with implacable anger. He plucked a hair from his bead and offered
it to the fire reciting a mantra.
At
once, a maiden, as beautiful as his daughter-in-law, emerged from the
sacrificial fire.
The
sage plucked another hair from his knotted lock and offered it as oblation. A
terrible ghost rose from the fire. The sage commanded them to kill Yavakrida.
Both of them bowed to the order.
While
Yavakrida was performing the morning rites, the female spirit went near him and
with smiles and allurements put him off his guard and as she ran away with his
water-jug, the male ghost rushed on him with uplifted spear.
Yavakrida
stood up in fear. Knowing that his mantras would be of no avail until he
cleansed himself with water, he looked for his water-jug. When he found it
missing, he rushed to a pond for water but the pond was dry. He went to nearby
stream, which also dried up at his approach.
There
was no water for him anywhere. The terrible fiend pursued him everywhere and
Yavakrida fled for his life, with the demon hot on his heels. His sin had
consumed the power of his vigils and fasts. At last, he sought refuge in the
sacrificial hall of his father.
The
half-blind man who was guarding the hermitage stopped him as be could not
recognise Yavakrida as, distorted with mortal fear, he sought to force his way
in. Meanwhile, the fiend overtook him and killed him with his spear.
When
Bharadvaja returned to his hermitage, he came upon his son's corpse and
concluded that disrespect to Raibhya must have led to this cruel fate.
"Alas!
My child, you died of your pride and vanity. Was it not a great mistake that
you tried to learn the Vedas in a way not resorted to by any brahmana? Why did
you behave so as to be cursed thus? May Raibhya, who caused the death of my
only son, be himself killed by one of his sons!" Thus, carried away by
rage and grief the sage cursed Raibhya.
Regaining
control soon, he exclaimed in anguish: "Alas! They alone are blessed who
have no sons. I have not only lost my only son, but in the madness of my grief
I have also cursed my friend and companion. What is the use of continuing my
life?" He cremated his son's body and died by throwing himself on the
funeral pyre.
35. Mere Learning Is Not Enough
KING
Brihadyumna, a disciple of the sage Raibhya, performed a great sacrifice at
which he requested his teacher to let his two sons Paravasu and Arvavasu
officiate. With the permission of their father, both of them went joyfully to
the capital of the king.
While
arrangements were being made for the sacrifice, Paravasu desired one day to go
and see his wife and, walking alone all night, he reached his hermitage before
dawn. Near the hermitage, he saw in the twilight, what seemed to him a beast of
prey crouching for a spring and, hurling his weapon at it, killed it.
But
to his horror and grief, he discovered that he had killed his own father clad
in skins, mistaking him for a wild denizen of the forest. He realised that the
fatal mistake was the effect of the curse of Bharadwaja.
When
he had hastily performed the funeral rites of his father, he went to Arvavasu
and told him the doleful tale. He said: "But this mishap should not
interfere with the sacrifice of the king. Please do the rites on my behalf in
expiation of the sin I have unwittingly committed. There is, mercifully,
atonement for sins committed in ignorance. If you can be my substitute here for
undergoing the expiation I shall be able to go and assist in conducting the
king's sacrifice. I can officiate unaided, which is a thing you cannot do as
yet."
The
virtuous brother agreed and said: "You may attend to the king's sacrifice.
I shall do penance to free you from the terrible taint of having killed a
father and a brahmana."
The
virtuous Arvavasu, accordingly, took upon himself the expiatory rites on behalf
of his brother. That done, he came to the court of the king to join his brother
and assist in the sacrifice.
The
sin of Paravasu was not washed off, since expiation cannot be by proxy. It
tainted his mind with wicked designs.
Becoming
jealous of the radiance on his brother's face, Paravasu decided to dishonor him
by casting on him an unjustice as a person and accordingly, when Arvavasu
entered the hall, Paravasu loudly exclaimed so that the king might hear:
"This
man has committed the sin of killing a brahmana and how can he enter this holy
sacrificial place?"
Arvavasu
indignantly denied the accusation but none heeded him, and he was ignominiously
expelled from that hall of sacrifice by the orders of the king.
Arvavasu
repeatedly protested his innocence. "It is my brother who has committed
the sin and even then it was through a mistake. I have saved him by performing
expiatory rites."
This
made matters worse for him for nobody believed that the expiation he had
undergone was not for his own crime and everyone thought that he was adding
false accusation against a blameless brother, to his other sins.
The
virtuous Arvavasu who, besides being falsely accused of a monstrous crime, was
also slandered as a liar, retreated to the forest in despair of finding justice
in the world and betook himself to rigorous austerities.
The
gods were gracious and asked him: "O virtuous soul, what is the boon you
seek?" High thinking and deep meditation had in the meantime cleansed his
heart of all anger at his brother's conduct; and so, he only prayed that his
father might be restored to life and that his brother might be freed from
wickedness and the sins that he had committed.
The
gods granted his prayer.
Lomasa
narrated this story to Yudhishthira at a place near Raibhya's hermitage and
said: "O Pandavas, bathe here and wash off your passions in this holy
river."
Arvavasu
and Paravasu were both sons of a great scholar. Both of them learnt at his feet
and became eminent scholars themselves.
But
learning is one thing and virtue is quite another. It is true that one should
know the difference between good and evil, if one is to seek good and shun
evil. But this knowledge should soak into every thought and influence every act
in one's life.
Then
indeed knowledge becomes virtue. The knowledge that is merely so much
undigested information crammed into the mind, cannot instill virtue.
It
is just an outward show like our clothes and is no real part of us.
WHILE
the Pandavas were wandering among holy places in the forest, they came one day
to the hermitage of the personages immortalized in the Upanishads. Lomasa told
Yudhishthira the story of that place.
Udalaka,
a great sage and teacher of Vedanta, had a disciple named Kagola, who was
virtuous and devoted but had no great learning. So, the other disciples used to
laugh and mock at him.
Uddalaka,
however, attached no great weight to his disciple's lack of erudition but
really appreciated his virtues, devotion and good conduct and gave his daughter
Sujata in marriage to him.
The
couple was blessed with a son. A child generally inherits the characteristics
of both the parents. But fortunately the grandson of Uddalaka took after his
grandfather rather than his father and knew the Vedas even while he was in his
mother's womb.
When
Kagola made mistakes, as he often did in reciting the Vedas, the child in the
womb would twist his body with pain, and so it came to pass that he had eight
crooked bends in his body when he was born.
These
crooked bends earned him the name of Ashtavakra, which means "Eight
crooked bends." Kagola, one ill-fated day, provoked a polemical contest
with Vandi, the court scholar of Mithila, and, having been defeated, was made
to drown himself.
Meanwhile
Ashtavakra grew up to be a towering scholar even in his boyhood, and at the age
of twelve he had already completed his study of the Vedas and the Vedanta.
One
day, Ashtavakra learnt that Janaka, the king of Mithila was performing a great
sacrifice in the course of which the assembled scholars would, as usual, debate
on the sastras.
Ashtavakra
set out for Mithila, accompanied by his uncle Svetaketu. On their way to the
place of sacrifice at Mithila, they came across the king and his retinue.
The
attendants of the king marched in front shouting: "Move away. Make way for
the King." Ashtavakra instead of moving out of the way said to the
retainers:
"O
royal attendants, even the king, if he is righteous, has to move and make way
for the blind, the deformed, the fair sex, persons bearing loads and brahmanas
learned in the Vedas. This is the rule enjoined by the scriptures."
The
king, surprised at these wise words of the brahmana boy, accepted the justness
of the rebuke and made way, observing to his attendants: "What this
brahmana stripling says is true. Fire is fire whether it is tiny or big and it
has the power to burn."
Ashtavakra
and Svetaketu entered the sacrificial hall. The gatekeeper stopped them and
said: "Boys cannot go in. Only old men learned in the Vedas may go into
the sacrificial hall."
Ashtavakra
replied: "We are not mere boys. We have observed the necessary vows and
have learnt the Vedas. Those who have mastered the truths of the Vedanta will
not judge another on mere considerations of age or appearance."
The
gatekeeper said: "Stop. Have done with your idle brag. How can you, a mere
boy, have learnt and realised the Vedanta?"
The
boy said: "You mean I am not big like an over-grown gourd with no
substance in it? Size is no indication of knowledge or worth, nor is age. A
very tall old man may be a tall old fool. Let me pass."
The
gatekeeper said: "You are certainly not old, nor tall, though you talk
like all the hoary sages. Get out."
Ashtavakra
replied: "Gatekeeper, Grey hairs do not prove the ripeness of the soul.
The really mature man is the one who has learnt the Vedas and the Vedangas,
mastered their gist and realised their essence. I am here to meet the court
pandit Vandi. Inform King Janaka of my desire."
At
that moment the king himself came there and easily recognized Ashtavakra, the
precociously wise boy he had met before.
The
king asked: "Do you know that my court pandit Vandi has overthrown in
argument many great scholars in the past and caused them to be cast into the
ocean? Does that not deter you from this dangerous adventure?"
Ashtavakra
replied: "Your eminent scholar has not hitherto encountered men like me
who are proficient in the Vedas on Vedanta. He has become arrogant and vain
with easy victories over good men who were not real scholars. I have come here
to repay the debt due on account of my father, who was defeated by this man and
made to drown himself, as I have heard from my mother. I have no doubt I shall
vanquish Vandi, whom you will see crumple up like a broken-wheeled cart. Please
summon him."
Ashtavakra
met Vandi. They took up a debatable thesis and started an argument, each
employing his utmost learning and wits to confound the other. And in the end
the assembly unanimously declared the victory of Ashtavakra and the defeat of
Vandi.
The
court pandit of Mithila bowed his head and paid the forfeit by drowning himself
in the ocean and going to the abode of Varuna.Then the spirit of Kagola, the
father of Ashtavakra, gained peace and joy in the glory of his son.
The
author of the epic instructs us through these words put in Kagola's mouth:
"A son need not be like his father. A father who is physically weak may
have a very strong son and an ignorant father may have a scholarly son. It is
wrong to acesess the greatness of a man on his physical appearance or age. External
appearances are deceptive." Which
shows that the unlearned Kagola was not devoid of common sense.
DRAUPADI
used to complain frequently: "This Kamyaka forest is not beautiful without
Arjuna. I find no joy in life in the absence of Arjuna."
The
other Pandavas shared Draupadi's wretchedness at separation from Arjuna, who
had gone to the Himalayas in quest of divine weapons.
Bhimasena
told Draupadi: "Blessed lady, I myself feel the same about Arjuna and what
you say makes me thrill with love and sympathy. Bereft of Arjuna, this
beautiful forest seems desolate. My mind can know no peace without seeing
Arjuna. Sahadeva, how do you feel?"
Sahadeva
said: "This hermitage seems to be empty without Arjuna. We shall try
whether a change of scene will help us to bear the pain of separation
better."
Yudhishthira
addressing his priest Dhaumya said: "I have sent my younger brother Arjuna
to win divine weapons. That dauntless and dexterous hero has not yet returned.
We have sent him to the Himalayas to get from Indra, the king of gods, weapons
with which we could conquer Bhishma, Drona, Kripa and Aswatthama, since it is
certain that these heroes will fight on the side of the sons of Dhritarashtra.
Karna knows the secret of divine weapons, and his supreme wish is to fight with
Arjuna. I have sent Arjuna to gain Indra's grace and get weapons from him as
the Kaurava heroes can be defeated by no other means. Having sent him on a very
difficult errand, we cannot live here happily, for we miss him in all our
accustomed haunts. I wish to go elsewhere, for that may enable us to bear the
separation better. Can you suggest where we could go?"
Dhaumya
described many forests and holy places. The Pandavas went the round of those
places to relieve themselves to some extent from the pangs of separation.
They
spent many years in this pilgrimage and in listening to the traditions, which
sanctified each shrine. Draupadi would often feel exhausted by having to
traverse mountains and forests. Bhima, sometimes helped by his son Ghalotkacha,
would serve and encourage them and make their labors easy.
In
the course of their wanderings through the Himalayan regions they came to a
terrible forest where the path was rugged and steep.
Yudhishthira
was worried and told Bhima that the way would greatly distress Draupadi but
that he himself would go on accompanied by Nakula and the sage Lomasa.
He
suggested that Bhima and Sahadeva should stay behind at Gangadwara with
Draupadi. Bhima would not agree. He said that the pain of separation from
Arjuna ought to have taught his brother how much he would suffer if he were
parted from Sahadeva, Draupadi and Bhima.
Besides,
Bhima could not leave Yudhishthira alone in this forest infested with
Rakshasas, demons and wild animals. The way was hard, but he could easily carry
Draupadi across the most difficult parts of it. He could carry Nakula and
Sahadeva also.
When
Bhima said these words, Yudhishthira embraced him and blessed him and wished
him an increase of physical strength. Draupadi smiled and said, addressing
Yudhishthira: "No one need carry me. I can walk. Do not be anxious about
me."
They
reached Kulinda, the kingdom of Subahu, on the Himalayas. They accepted the
honors rendered to them by that king and rested there awhile. Later on, they
went to the charming forest of Narayanasrama and halted there.
One
day, a breeze that blew from the northeast wafted a beautiful flower near
Draupadi. Draupadi took it in her hands and was so charmed with its fragrance
and beauty that she showed it rapturously to Bhima.
"Come
and see this flower. What a sweet fragrance! How charming! I shall hand this
over to Yudhishthira. Bring some flowers of this kind. We should grow this
plant in our Kamyaka forest." Draupadi ran to give the flower to Yudhishthira.
Anxious
to please his beloved Draupadi, Bhima went in quest of that plant. He went
alone in the direction from which the fragrance seemed to be borne by the
breeze, without wasting a thought on the wild beasts that crossed his path.
He
presently came to a garden of plantain trees at the foot of a mountain, and
there he saw a huge monkey shining like blazing fire, which lay right across
his path blocking it.
He
tried to frighten the animal out of his way by shouting at it. It only half
opened its eyes lazily and drawled: "I am indisposed and so I am lying
here. Why lid you wake me? You are a wise human being and I am mere animal. It
is proper that the rational man should show mercy to animals as interior
creatures. I am afraid you are ignorant of right and wrong. Who are you?
Whither are you bound? It is not possible to go further along this mountain
path which is the path of the gods. Men cannot cross this limit. Eat what you
like of the fruits of this place and if you are wise, go back in peace."
Bhima,
unused to being taken so lightly, grew angry and shouted: "Who are you,
yourself, you monkey, that indulges in such tall talk? I am a kshatriya hero, a
descendant of the Kuru race and a son of Kunti. Know that I am the son of the
Wind god. Now move away from the path or stop me at your peril."
Hearing
these words the monkey merely smiled and said: "I am, as you say, a
monkey, but you will come to destruction if you try to force a way."
Bhima
said: "I do not want your advice and it is no concern of yours if I go to
destruction. Get up and move out of the way or I will make you."
The
monkey replied: "I have no strength to stand up, being but a very old
monkey. If you have to go at any cost, jump over me."
Bhima
said: "Nothing could be easier but the scriptures forbid it. Otherwise I
should jump over you and the mountain in one bound, like Hanuman crossing the
ocean."
The
monkey remarked as though in surprise: "O best of men, who is that Hanuman
who crossed the ocean? If you know his story, enlighten me."
Bhima
roared and said: "Have you not heard of Hanuman, my elder brother, who
crossed the ocean, a hundred yojanas in breadth, to seek and find Sita, the
wife of Rama? I am equal to him in strength and heroism. Well, that is enough
talk, now get up and make way and do not provoke me to do you some harm."
The
monkey answered: "O mighty hero, be patient. Be gentle as you are strong,
and have mercy on the old and weak. I have no strength to rise up as I am
decrepit with age. Since you have scruples in jumping over me, kindly move
aside my tail and make a path for yourself."
Proud
of his immense strength, Bhima thought to pull the monkey out of the way by its
tail. But, to his amazement he could not move it in the least, though he
exerted all his strength.
He
set his jaws and strained every muscle till the very sinews cracked and he was
covered with perspiration. But, still, could not move that tail the least, a
little bit up or down or sideways. In shame, he bent down his head, and then
asked in a chastened mood:
"Who
are you? Forgive me and reveal to me whether you are a Siddha, god or
Gandharva." Bhima like most strong men, was all respect when he saw one
stronger than himself, and spoke like a pupil addressing his master.
Hanuman
replied: "O mighty-armed Pandava, know that I am your brother, even that
Hanuman, the son of the Wind god, whom you mentioned a little while ago. If you
go on this path, which is the road to the spirit-world where the Yakshas and
the Rakshasas abide, you will meet with danger and that is why I stop you. No
man can go beyond this and live. But here is the stream with its depths where
you can find the Saugandhika plant you came to seek."
Bhima
was transported with delight: "I count myself the most fortunate of men in
that I have been blessed to meet my brother. I wish to see the form in which
you crossed the ocean," and he prostrated before Hanuman.
Hanuman
smiled and began to increase the size of his body and stood forth firmly to the
world like a mountain seeming to fill
the landscape.
Bhima
was thrilled at actually seeing that divine form of this elder brother, the
mere description of which had till then filled him with wonder. He covered his
eyes, unable to bear the dazzling light radiating from that figure.
Hanuman
said: "Bhima, in the presence of my enemies, my body can grow still
more." And Hanuman contracted his body, resuming his former size. He
tenderly embraced Bhimasena.
Bhagavan
Vyasa says that Bhima felt completely refreshed and became much stronger than
before by the embrace of Hanuman.
Hanuman
said: "O hero, go to your abode. Think of me whenever you are in need. I
felt the same delight when I embraced you that I had in times of yore when I
was fortunate enough to touch the divine body of Sri Rama. Ask any boon that
you like."
Bhima
said: "Blessed are the Pandavas for I have had the good fortune to see
you. Inspired with your strength we are sure to conquer our enemies."
Hanuman
gave this parting blessing to his brother:
"While
you roar like a lion in the battlefield, my voice shall join yours and strike
terror into the hearts of your enemies. I shall be present on the flag of the
chariot of your brother Arjuna. You will be victorious."
Hanuman
pointed out to Bhima the stream nearby, where grew the Saugandhika flowers he
had come to seek.
This
put Bhima at once in mind of Draupadi who was waiting for his return, and he
collected the flowers and returned to her without delay.
ONCE
the sage Markandeya came to see the Pandavas. Yudhishthira happened to talk of
the virtues of the fair sex and said:
"What
greater wonder is there in this world than the patience and the chastity of
woman? She gives birth to a child after cherishing it in her womb as dearer
than life itself. She brings it into the world inpain and anxiety and thence
forward her one thought is for its health and happiness. Large hearted and
forgiving, a woman forgives and continues to love even a wicked husband who
neglects and hates and subjects her to all sorts of miseries. How
strange!"
Hearing
this Markandeya told him a sacred story.
There
was once a brahmana, named Kausika who observed his vow of brahmacharya. with
great steadfastness and devotion.
One
day, he sat under a tree reciting the Vedas. A crane, perched on the top of the
tree, defiled his head with its droppings. He looked up at it, and his angry
look killed the bird and it fell down dead.
The
brahmana was pained when he saw the dead bird lying on the ground.
How
frightful it would be if wishes fulfilled themselves, if each hasty or angry
wish took effect at once! How much there would be to regret or repent
afterwards! It is lucky for us that wishes depend onoutward circumstances for
accomplishment, since that saves us from much sin and sorrow.
Kausika
sorrowed that the evil thought that passed in his mind in a moment of anger had
killed an innocent bird. Some time later, he went as usual to beg alms.
He
stood before the door of a house to receive his dole. The housewife was
cleansing utensils at that time. Kausika waited in the hope that she would
attend to him after her work was over.
In
the meantime the master of the house returned, tired and hungry, and the wife
had to attend to his wants, wash and dry his feet and serve him with food.
In
this preoccupation she seemed to have forgotten the mendicant waiting outside.
After her husband had been cared for and fed, she came out with alms to the
mendicant.
She
said: "I am sorry to have kept you waiting long. Pardon me."
Kausika,
burning with anger, said: "Lady, you have made me wait for such a long
time. This indifference is not fair."
The
woman told the brahmana: "Best of brahmanas, kindly do forgive me. I was
serving my husband and hence the delay."
The
brahmana remarked: "It is right and proper to attend on the husband, but
the brahmana also should not be disregarded. You seem an arrogant woman."
She
said: "Be not angry with me and remember that I kept you waiting only
because I was dutifully serving my husband. I am no crane to be killed by a
violent thought and your rage can do no harm to the woman who devotes herself
to the service of her husband."
The
brahmana was taken aback. He wondered how the woman knew of the crane incident.
She
continued: "O great one, you do not know the secret of duty, and you are
also not aware that anger is the greatest enemy that dwells in man. Forgive the
delay in attending to you. Go to Mithila and be instructed in the secret of
good life by Dharmavyadha living in that city."
The
brahmana was amazed. He said: "I deserve your just admonition and it will
do me good. May all good attend you." With these words he went to Mithila.
Kausika
reached Mithila and looked for Dharmavyadha's residence, which he thought would
be some lonely hermitage far from the noise and bustle of common life.
He
walked along magnificent roads between beautiful houses and gardens in that
great city and finally reached a butcher's shop, in which was a man selling
meat. His amazement was great when he learnt that this man was Dharmavyadha.
The
brahmana was shocked beyond measure and stood at a distance in disgust. The
butcher suddenly rose from his seat, came to the brahmana and inquired:
"Revered sir, are you well? Did that chaste brahmana lady send you to
me?"
The
brahmana was stupefied.
"Revered
sir, I know why you have come. Let us go home," said the butcher and he
took the brahmana to his house where he saw a happy family and was greatly
struck by the devotion with which the butcher served his parents.
Kausika
took his lessons from that butcher on dharma, man's calling and duty.
Afterwards, the brahmana returned to his house and began to tend his parents, a
duty, which he had rather neglected before.
The
moral of this striking story of Dharmavyadha so skillfully woven by Vedavyasa
into the Mahabharata, is the same as the teaching of the Gita. Man reaches
perfection by the honest pursuit of whatever calling falls to his lot in life,
and that this is really worship of God who created and pervades all. (Bhagavad
Gita, XVIII, 45-46)
The
occupation may be one he is born to in society or it may have been forced on
him by circumstances or be may have taken it up by choice. But what really
matters is the spirit of sincerity and faithfulness with which be does his
life's work.
Vedavyasa
emphasizes this great truth by making a scholarly brahmana, who did not know
it, learn it from a butcher, who lived it in his humble and despised life.
39. The Wicked Are Never Satisfied
MANY
brahmanas visited the Pandavas during their exile. And one such, returning to
Hastinapura, went to see Dhritarashtra, who received him with due honor.
The
brahmana told him how the Pandavas, born princes, were, by unkind destiny, at
the mercy of the wind and the sun and suffered great privations.
Dhritarashtra
was probably sorry to hear this. But what troubled him most were the
consequences to his own sons. Could Yudhishthira continue to hold the justly
wrathful Bhima in check?
Dhritarashtra
feared that the anger of the Pandavas, long pent up, might one day break its
bounds and overflow in a devastating flood.
The
king anxiously pondered thus: "Arjuna and Bhima will certainly try to
punish us. Sakuni, Karna, Duryodhana and the short-sighted Duhsasana are
perched precariously up a tree in search of a honeycomb while below is the
abyss of Bhima's anger yawning to receive them to their destruction."
The
blind king pursued his thought: "Alas, why did we become a prey to
covetousness? It is not as though poverty drove us to it! Why did we take to
the path of injustice? Instead of enjoying our boundless wealth in contentment
we succumbed to lust of power and possession and coveted what was not ours.
Wrong cannot but yield its bitter harvest! Arjuna has returned from heaven with
divine weapons. What could tempt one back to earth from heaven but the craving
for vengeance? And we have earned it!" These thoughts would haunt and give
him no peace.
Though
Dhritarashtra was thus worried, Sakuni, Karna and Duryodhana were giddily happy
and found much pleasure in exulting congratulation of one another on their
prosperity.
Karna
and Sakuni said to Duryodhana: "The kingdom which was in the hands of
Yudhishthira has become ours. We need no longer burn with jealousy."
Duryodhana
replied: "O Karna, all that is true, but would it not be a joy of joys to
see with my own eyes the sufferings of the Pandavas and bring their sorrow to a
climax by a display of our happiness? The only way to perfect our happiness is
to go to the forest and see the distress of the Pandavas, but my father will
refuse permission," and Duryodhana shed tears at his father's cruelty in
denying him this pleasure.
He
said again: "The king fears the Pandavas, as he thinks that they are
endowed with the power of austerities. He forbids us to go to the forest and
meet them, lest danger should befall us. But I tell you, all we have done so
far is labor lost, without a sight of the sufferings of Draupadi, Bhima and
Arjuna in the forest. This life of idle ease is torment to me without that
great joy. Sakuni and yourself must seek a way of obtaining the king's consent
for us to go to the forest and see the Pandavas in their misery."
Early
next morning, Karna went to Duryodhana with a cheerful face and announced that
he had found a way out of the difficulty.
He
said: "What do you think of going to our ranches at Dwaitavana for the
annual stock-taking of the cows? The king certainly cannot object to
that." Sakuni and Duryodhana applauded this bright idea and sent the
leader of the cowherds to the king to secure his permission.
But
the king would not assent. He said: "Hunting is indeed beneficial to the
princes. It is also desirable to take stock of the cows. But I learn that the
Pandavas are dwelling in that forest. It is not advisable for you to go there.
I cannot agree to send you to a place near the abode of Bhima and Arjuna while
there is still occasion for anger and strife."
Duryodhana
said: "We shall not go near them. On the contrary we shall be very careful
and avoid them." The king answered:
"However
careful you may be, there is danger in mere nearness. Also, it is not right to
intrude on the sorrows of the Pandavas in their forest life. Anyone of your
soldiers might trespass and give offence, which may lead to trouble. Someone
else can go in your stead to count the cattle."
Sakuni
said: "O king, Yudhishthira knows and follows the path of dharma. He has
given his promise in the open assembly and the Pandavas will follow his
bidding. The sons of Kunti will not show any enmity towards us. Do not oppose
Duryodhana who is fond of hunting. Let him return after taking stock of the
cows. I shall also accompany him and see to it that none of us go anywhere near
the Pandavas."
The
king, over-persuaded as usual, said: "Well, please yourselves." A
heart full of hate can know no contentment. Hate is a cruel fire, which extorts
the fuel, on which it lives and grows.
THE
Kauravas reached Dwaitavana with a great army and many followers. Duryodhana
and Karna went with unconcealed joy at the very thought of being able to gloat on
the sad plight of the Pandavas.
They
themselves camped in luxurious rest houses in a place four miles off the abode
of the Pandavas. They inspected the herds of cows and took stock of them.
After
counting the cows, bulls and calves, they enjoyed the dance, the hunt, the
sylvan sports and other entertainment’s arranged for them.
While
hunting, Duryodhana and his party reached an attractive pond near the hermitage
of the Pandavas and ordered a camp to be put on its bank.
Chitrasena,
the king of the Gandharvas, and his attendants had already encamped in the
neighborhood of the pool and they prevented Duryodhana's men from putting up
their camp.
They
returned to Duryodhana and represented that some petty prince who was there
with his followers was giving them trouble.
Duryodhana
was annoyed at this presumption and directed his men to turn the Gandharva
prince out and put up the tents. The attendants returned to the lake and tried
to carry out their orders but found the Gandharvas too many for them and had to
retreat in precipitation.
When
Duryodhana came to know of this, he grew very angry and with a large army
marched to destroy the audacious enemies who had dared to resist his pleasure.
A great fight ensued between the Gandharvas and Duryodhana's army.
At
first the fight went in favor of the Kauravas. But the tables were quickly
turned when Chitrasena, the king of the Gandharvas, rallied his troops and
began using his magic weapons.
Karna
and the other Kaurava heroes lost their chariots and weapons and had to retreat
in haste and ignominy. Duryodhana alone remained in the battlefield but he was
soon seized by Chitrasena, who placed him in his chariot bound hand and foot,
and blew his conch in token of victory.
The
Gandharvas took many of the prominent Kauravas captive. The Kaurava army fled
in all directions and some of the fugitives took refuge in the hermitage of the
Pandavas.
Bhima
heard the news of Duryodhana's defeat and capture with delight and amusement.
He said to Yudhishthira: "These Gandharvas have done our job for us.
Duryodhana, who must have come here to mock at us, has got what he deserved. I
feel like thanking our Gandharva friend!"
But
Yudhishthira reproved him: "Dear brother, this is not the time for you to
rejoice. The Kauravas are our kith and kin and their humiliation, at the hands
of strangers, is ours. We cannot hold back and take this lying down. We must
rescue them."
Bhima
did not think this very reasonable. He said: "Why should we save this
sinner who tried to burn us alive in the wax house? Why should you feel sorry
for the fellow who poisoned my food, bound me hand and foot and wanted to drown
me in the river? What brotherly feeling can we really have towards these vile
wretches who hauled Draupadi by the hair to theassembly and disgraced
her?"
At
that moment a cry of agony from Duryodhana reached them faintly from the
distance and Yudhishthira, greatly moved, overruled Bhima's objection and bade
his brothers go to the rescue of the Kauravas.
Obedient
to his behest, Bhima and Arjuna rallied the routed Kaurava forces and offered
battle to the Gandharvas. But Chitrasena had no wish to fight with the Pandavas
and at their approach, released Duryodhana and the other prisoners saying that
all he wanted was to teach a lesson to these arrogant Kauravas.
The
dishonored Kauravas returned in haste to Hastinapura, with Karna, who, having
been, driven off the battlefield, joined them on the way.
Duryodhana,
in great shame and dejection, felt it would have been far better if be had been
killed by Chitrasena and announced his wish to fast unto death.
He
said to Duhsasana: "Be crowned and rule the kingdom. I can no longer
continue to live after having become a laughing stock to my enemies."
Duhsasana
protested his unworthiness to be king and caught hold of his brother's feet and
wept. Karna could not bear the sight of the brother's sorrow.
Karna
said: "This does not befit heroes of the Kuru race. What is the use of
just collapsing under sorrow? It will but make your enemies happy. Look at the Pandavas.
They have not taken to fasts in spite of the disgrace they have suffered."
Sakuni
interposed and said: "Listen to Karna's words. Why do you say that you
would give up your life when the kingdom seized from the Pandavas is yours to
enjoy? Fasting serves no purpose, for if you really repent of what you have
done till now, you should make friends with the Pandavas and give them back
their kingdom."
When
Duryodhana heard this speech, his evil nature regained ascendancy, for giving
back the kingdom to the Pandavas was to him a hundred times worse than defeat
or disgrace. He shouted: "I shall conquer the Pandavas."
Karna
said: "That is the way for a king to talk."
And
he added: "What sense is there in dying? You can do something worthwhile
only if you are alive."
While
returning home, Karna said: "I swear to you by all that is holy that, when
the stipulated period of thirteen years is over, I will kill Arjuna in
battle." And then he touched his sword in token of the oath.
WHILE
the Pandavas were dwelling in the forest, Duryodhana celebrated a great
sacrifice with much pomp and splendor.
He
wanted to perform the Rajasuya sacrifice, but the brahmanas told him that he
could not do that while Yudhishthira and Dhritarashtra were alive and advised
him to perform the sacrifice known as the Vaishnava instead.
He
accepted this advice and celebrated the Vaishnava with great splendor. But when
the ceremony was over, the citizens began to talk among themselves that
Duryodhana's sacrifice had not come up to even a sixteenth part of
Yudhishthira's Rajasuya in magnificence.
The
friends of Duryodhana, on the other hand, praised him and the sacrifice he had
celebrated and likened it to those performed by Yayati, Mandhata, Bharata and
others.
Court
flatterers were not sparing with their praise. Karna told Duryodhana that his
Rajasuya had been only postponed till the Pandavas should be defeated and slain
in battle and repeated that his part would be the slaying of Arjuna.
"Till
I have slain Arjuna," said he, "I shall not take meat or wine, nor
will I refuse the prayer of anyone who asks me for anything." Such was the
solemn vow taken by Karna in the assembly.
The
sons of Dhritarashtra were delighted to hear this vow of the great hero Karna
and shouted in joy. They felt as if the Pandavas had been slain already.
Spies
conveyed to the Pandavas in the forest the news of the oath taken by Karna.
Yudhishthira was greatly concerned, for he had a great opinion of Karna's
prowess.
Karna
had been born with divine armor and was undoubtedly a mighty hero. One morning,
just before the hour of awakening, Yudhishthira had a dream.
Many
of our dreams come either in the beginning or at the end of our sleep. He
dreamt that the wild beasts of the forest came and appealed to him piteously
not to destroy them altogether, but to move on to some other forest.
Duryodhana
felt sure that the Pandavas, who themselves lived from hand to mouth in the
forest, would be unable to feed or entertain the sage and his following, and
would incur some dreadful curse from that too hasty visitor for their want of
hospitality. This would give him greater joy than any benefit he could have
asked for himself when the sage offered a boon. Durvasa went with his disciples
to the Pandavas as was desired by Duryodhana, as the latter were resting after
their midday meal.
The
brothers welcomed the sage, saluted and honored him. Then the sage said:
"We shall be back soon. Our meals must be ready then, for we are
hungry," and hurried off with his disciples to the river.
As
a result of the austerities of Yudhishthira at the beginning of their stay in
the forest, the Sun god had given him the Akshayapatra, a wonderful vessel that
held a never-failing supply of food.
In
making the gift, the god had said, "Through this I shall place at your
disposal for twelve years as much food as is required for your daily
consumption.
Not
till everyone has been served and Draupadi herself has taken her share will the
vessel become empty for the day."
Accordingly,
the brahmanas and other guests would be served first. Afterwards the Pandava
brothers would take their meals. Finally, Draupadi would have her share.
When
Durvasa reached the place, all of them, including Draupadi, had eaten their
meals and so the vessel was empty and denuded of its power for the day.
Draupadi
was greatly troubled and perfectly at a loss to find food when the sage and his
disciples should return after their ablutions. In the kitchen, she prayed
earnestly to Sri Krishna to come to her aid in this hopeless predicament and
deliver her from the wrath of the sage.
At
once Sri Krishna appeared before her. "I am very hungry," he said,
"bring without delay something to eat and we shall speak of other things
afterwards."
Here
was a pretty pass. It looked as though the ally from whom she hoped for relief
had gone over to the foe! She cried out in great confusion: "Alas! Why do
you try me thus, O Krishna? The power of the vessel given by the Sun is
exhausted for the day. And the sage Durvasa has come. What shall I do? The sage
and his disciples will soon be here and as though this were not enough, you
have also come at this juncture saying that you are hungry."
Sri
Krishna said: "I am terribly hungry and want food, not excuses. Fetch the
vessel and let me see for myself." Draupadi brought it to him. A tiny bit
of cooked vegetable and a grain of rice were sticking to the rim of the vessel.
Sri
Krishna ate them with satisfaction, accepting them as Sri Hari, the Soul of the
Universe. Draupadi was filled with shame at her slovenliness in not having
cleaned the vessel free of all remnants. A bit had been left which had been
partaken by Vasudeva!
Sri
Krishna seemed replete with satisfaction after eating his solitary grain and
calling Bhima, told him to go to the river and intimate to the revered sage
that food was ready and waiting for them.
Bhimasena,
greatly puzzled, but full of faith in Sri Krishna, hastened to the river where
Durvasa and his followers were bathing.
They
were in great surprise to find that their ravenous hunger had given place to a
pleased satiety. They had all the comfortable cheerfulness of people who had
feasted well.
The
disciples told the sage: "We have come here after asking Yudhishthira to
prepare food for us, but we feel well-fed and full and cannot eat anything
more."
Durvasa
knew what it was and he told Bhima: "We have taken our meals. Tell
Yudhishthira to forgive us." Then the party went away.
The
explanation is that as the whole universe is contained in Sri Krishna, his
satisfaction with a single grain of rice satisfied for the time the hunger of
all beings including the sage.
THE
stipulated period of twelve years was drawing to a close.
One
day, a deer was rubbing itself against a poor brahmana's fire-kindling mortar
and as it turned to go, the mortar got entangled in its horns and the
affrighted animal fled wildly with it into the forest.
In
those days matches were unknown and fire was kindled with pieces of wood by
mechanical friction.
"Alas!
The deer is running away with my fire-kindler. How can I perform the fire
sacrifice?" shouted the brahmana and rushed towards the Pandavas for help
in his extremity.
The
Pandavas pursued the animal but it was a magic deer, which sped in great leaps
and bounds, decoying the Pandavas far into the forest and then disappeared.
Worn out by the futile chase, the Pandavas sat in great dejection under a
banyan tree.
Nakula
sighed: "We cannot render even this trifling service to the brahmana. How
we have degenerated!" said he sadly.
Bhima
said: "Quite so. When Draupadi was dragged into the assembly, we should
have killed those wretches. Is it not because we did not do so that we have had
to suffer all these sorrows?" and he looked at Arjuna sadly.
Arjuna
agreed. "I bore in silence the vulgar and insulting brag of that son of
the charioteer, doing nothing. So we have deservedly fallen into this pitiable
state."
Yudhishthira
noticed with sorrow that all of them had lost their cheerfulness and courage.
He thought they would be more cheerful with something to do. He was tormented
with thirst and so he said to Nakula: "Brother, climb that tree and see
whether there is any pool or river nearby."
Nakula
climbed the tree, looked around and said: "At a little distance I see
water plants and cranes. There must certainly be water there."
Yudhishthira
sent him to fetch some to drink.
Nakula
was glad when he got to the place and saw there was a pool. He was very thirsty
himself and so thought of quenching his thirst first before taking water in his
quiver for his brother. But no sooner did he dip his hand in the transparent
water than he heard a voice, which said:
"Do
not be rash. This pool belongs to me. O son of Madri, answer my questions and
then drink the water."
Nakula
was surprised, but carried away by his intense thirst and heedless of the
warning, he drank the water. At once, overcome by irresistible drowsiness, he
fell down, to all appearance dead.
Surprised
that Nakula had not returned, Yudhishthira sent Sahadeva to see what the matter
was. When Sahadeva reached the pool and
saw his brother lying on the ground, he wondered whether any harm had come to
him. But before looking into the matter further, rushed irresistibly to the
water to quench his burning thirst.
The
voice was heard again: "O Sahadeva, this is my pool. Answer my questions
and then only may you quench your thirst."
Like
Nakula, Sahadeva also did not heed the warning. He drank the water and at once
dropped down.
Puzzled
and worried that Sahadeva also did not return, Yudhishthira sent Arjuna to see
whether the brothers had met with any danger. "And bring water," he
added, for he was very thirsty.
Arjuna
went swiftly. He saw both his brothers lying dead near the pool. He was shocked
at the sight and felt that they must have been killed by some lurking foe.
Though
heart-broken with grief and burning with the desire for revenge, he felt all
feelings submerged in a monstrous thirst, which irresistibly impelled him to
the fatal pool. Again, a voice was heard: "Answer my question before you
drink the water. This pool is mine. If you disobey me, you will follow your
brothers."
Arjuna's
anger knew no bounds. He cried: "Who are you? Come and stand up to me, and
I will kill you," and he shot keen-edged arrows in the direction of the
voice. The invisible being laughed in scorn: "Your arrows do but wound the
air. Answer my questions and then you can satisfy your thirst. If you drink the
water without doing so, you will die."
Greatly
vexed, Arjuna made up his mind to seek out and grapple with this elusive foe.
But first he had to quench his terrible thirst. Yes, thirst was the enemy he
must kill first. So he drank the water and also fell down dead.
After
anxious waiting Yudhishthira turned to Bhima: "Dear brother, Arjuna, the
great hero, has also not yet returned. Something terrible must have happened to
our brothers, for our stars are bad. Please seek them out and be quick about
it. Also bring water, for I die of thirst." Bhima, racked with anxiety,
hurried away without a word.
His
grief and rage can be imagined when he saw his three brothers lying there dead.
He thought: "This is certainly the work of the Yakshas. I will hunt them
down and kill them. But O! I am so thirsty, I shall first drink water the
better to fight them." And then he descended into the pool.
The
voice shouted: "Bhimasena, beware. You may drink only after answering my
questions. You will die if you disregard my words."
"Who
are you to dictate to me?" cried Bhima, and he drank the water avidly,
glaring around in defiance. And as he did so, his great strength seemed to slip
from him like a garment. And he also fell dead among his brothers.
Alone,
Yudhishthira wailed full of anxiety and thirst. "Have they been subjected
to a curse or are they wandering about in the forest in a vain search for water
or have they fainted or died of thirst?"
Unable
to bear these thoughts and driven
desperate by an overpowering thirst, he started out to look for his brothers
and the pool.
Yudhishthira
proceeded in the direction his brothers had taken through tracts infested with
wild boar and abounding in spotted dear and huge forest birds. Presently he
came upon a beautiful green meadow, girdling a pool of pellucid water, nectar
to his eyes.
But
when he saw his brothers lying there like sacred flagpoles thrown pell-mell
after a festival, unable to restrain his grief, he lifted his voice and wept.
He stroked the faces of Bhima and Arjuna as they lay so still and silent there
and mourned:
"Was
this to be the end of all our vows? Just when our exile is about to end, you
have been snatched away. Even the gods have forsaken me in my misfortune!"
As
he looked at their mighty limbs, now so helpless, he sadly wondered who could
have been powerful enough to kill them. Brokenly, he reflected: "Surely my
heart must be made of steel not to break even after seeing Nakula and Sahadeva
dead. For what purpose should I continue to live in this world?"
Then
a sense of mystery overcame him, for this could be no ordinary occurrence. The
world held no warriors who could overcome his brothers. Besides, there were no
wounds on their bodies which could have let out life and their faces were faces
of men who slept in peace and not of those who died in wrath.
There
was also no trace of the footprints of an enemy. There was surely some magic
about it. Or, could it be a trick played by Duryodhana? Might he not have
poisoned the water? Then Yudhishthira also descended into the pool, in his turn
drawn to the water by a consuming thirst.
At
once the voice without form warned as before: "Your brothers died because
they did not heed my words. Do not follow them. Answer my questions first and
then quench your thirst. This pool is mine."
Yudhishthira
knew that these could be none other than the words of a Yaksha and guessed what
had happened to his brothers. He saw a possible way of redeeming the situation.
He
said to the bodiless voice: "Please ask your questions." The voice
put questions rapidly one after another.
The
Yaksha asked: "What makes sun shine every day?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "The power of Brahman."
The
Yaksha asked: "What rescues man in danger?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Courage is man's salvation in danger."
The
Yaksha asked: "By the study of which science does man become wise?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Not by studying any sastra does man become wise. It is by
association with the great in wisdom that he gets wisdom."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is more nobly sustaining than the earth?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "The mother who brings up the children she has borne is nobler
and more sustaining than the earth."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is higher than the sky?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "The father."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is fleeter than wind?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Mind."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is more blighted than withered straw?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "A sorrow-stricken heart."
The
Yaksha asked: "What befriends a traveller?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Learning."
The
Yaksha asked: "Who is the friend of one who stays at home?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "The wife."
The
Yaksha asked: "Who accompanies a man in death?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Dharma. That alone accompanies the soul in its solitary journey
after death."
The
Yaksha asked: "Which is the biggest vessel?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "The earth, which contains all within itself is the greatest
vessel."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is happiness?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Happiness is the result of good conduct."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is that, abandoning which man becomes loved by
all?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Pride, for abandoning that man will be loved by all."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is the loss which yields joy and not sorrow?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Anger, giving it up, we will no longer subject to sorrow."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is that, by giving up which, man becomes rich?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Desire, getting rid of it, man becomes wealthy."
The
Yaksha asked: "What makes one a real brahmana? Is it birth, good conduct
or learning? Answer decisively."
Yudhishthira
replied: "Birth and learning do not make one a brahmana. Good conduct
alone does. However learned a person may be he will not be a brahmana if he is
a slave to bad habits. Even though he may be learned in the four Vedas, a man
of bad conduct falls to a lower class."
The
Yaksha asked: "What is the greatest wonder in the world?"
Yudhishthira
replied: "Every day, men see creatures depart to Yama's abode and yet,
those who remain seek to live forever. This verily is the greatest
wonder."
Thus,
the Yaksha posed many questions and Yudhishthira answered them all.
In
the end the Yaksha asked: "O king, one of your dead brothers can now be
revived. Whom do you want revived? He shall come back to life."
Yudhishthira
thought for a moment and then replied: "May the cloud-complexioned,
lotus-eyed, broad-chested and long-armed Nakula, lying like a fallen ebony
tree, arise."
The
Yaksha was pleased at this and asked Yudhishthira: "Why did you choose
Nakula in preference to Bhima who has the strength of sixteen thousand
elephants? I have heard that Bhima is most dear to you. And why not Arjuna,
whose prowess in arms is your protection? Tell me why you chose Nakula rather
than either of these two."
Yudhishthira
replied: "O Yaksha, dharma is the only shield of man and not Bhima or
Arjuna. If dharma is set at naught, man will be ruined. Kunti and Madri were
the two wives of my father. I am surviving, a son of Kunti, and so, she is not
completely bereaved. In order that the scales of justice may be even, I ask
that Madri's son Nakula may revive." The Yaksha was pleased with
Yudhishthira's impartiality and granted that all his brothers would come back
to life.
It
was Yama, the Lord of Death, who had taken the form of the deer and the Yaksha
so that he might see his son Yudhishthira and test him. He embraced Yudhishthira
and blessed him.
Yama
said: "Only a few days remain to complete the stipulated period of your
exile in the forest. The thirteenth year will also pass by. None of your
enemies will be able to discover you. You will successfully fulfil your
undertaking," and saying this he disappeared.
The
Pandavas had, no doubt, to pass through all sorts of troubles during their
exile, but the gains too were not inconsiderable. It was a period of hard
discipline and searching probation through which they emerged stronger and
nobler men.
Arjuna
returned from tapas with divine weapons and strengthened by contact with Indra.
Bhima also met his elder brother Hanuman near the lake where the Saugandhika
flowers bloomed and got tenfold strength from his embrace. Having met, at the
enchanted pool, his father Yama, the Lord of Dharma, Yudhishthira shone with
tenfold lustre.
"The
minds of those who listen to the sacred story of Yudhishthira's meeting with
his father, will never go after evil. They will never seek to create quarrels
among friends or covet the wealth of others. They will never fall victims to
lust. They will never be unduly attached to transitory things." Thus said
Vaisampayana to Janamejaya as he related this story of the Yaksha. May the same
good attend the readers of this story as retold by us.
"O
BRAHMANAS, we have been deceived by the sons of Dhritarashtra, cheated out of
our kingdom and reduced to poverty. Still we have passed these years cheerfully
with joy in the forest. The thirteenth year of exile has come, and with it the
time for us to part from you. For we have to spend the next twelve months
undiscovered by the spies of Duryodhana. God knows when the day will dawn which
will see us together again, without fear or concealment. Now, bless us before
we go. And may we escape the notice of those who may wish to betray us to the
sons of Dhritarashtra, either through fear or hope of reward."
So
spoke Yudhishthira to the brahmanas who were living with the Pandavas till
then. His voice shook with emotion as he spoke these words.
Dhaumya
consoled him. He said: "Parting, is hard, and the dangers are many and
great. But you are too wise and learned to be shaken or daunted. You must
disguise yourselves. Indra, the Lord of gods, when pested by the demons,
disguised himself as a brahmana and lived unknown in the country of Nishadha.
Safely concealed thus, he managed to destroy his enemies. You must also do
likewise. Did not Mahavishnu, the Lord of the Universe, become a child in the
womb of Aditi, suffer human birth, and take away from Emperor Bali his kingdom
for the salvation of the world? Did not Lord Narayana, the refuge of men, enter
into the weapon of Indra to defeat Vritra, the asura king? Did not the Fire god
hide himself in the waters for the sake of the gods? Does not the moon keep out
of sight every day? Did not Lord Vishnu, the all-pervading God, descend as the
son of Dasaratha and spend long years, suffering many sorrows for the sake of
killing Ravana? The greatest souls in the past have sanctified disguise for a
good purpose. You will, likewise, conquer your enemies and win
prosperity."
Yudhishthira
took leave of the brahmanas and gave the members of his retinue leave to go
home. The Pandavas retired to a secluded spot in the forest and discussed their
future line of action. Yudhishthira sadly asked Arjuna: "You are well
conversant with the ways of the world. Where would it be best for us to spend
the thirteenth year?"
Arjuna
replied: "O great king, you know
Yama, the Lord of Death, has blessed us. We can easily pass the twelve months
together without being discovered. There are many charming states for us to
choose from for our sojourn, states like Panchala, Matsya, Salva, Videha,
Bahlika, Dasharna, Surasena, Kalinga, and Magadha. It is, of course, for you to
choose. But if I may venture an opinion, the Matsya country of king Virata is
the best, prosperous and charming as it is."
Yudhishthira
answered: "Virata, the king of Matsya, is very strong and he loves us
much. He is of mature judgment and is devoted to the practice of virtue. He
will not be won over or frightened by Duryodhana. I agree that it would be best
to live incognito in Virata's kingdom."
Arjuna
said: "Well then, O king, what work would you seek in the court of
Virata?"
When
he asked this question, Arjuna was full of sorrow at the thought of
Yudhishthira, the great and guileless king, who had performed the Rajasuya
sacrifice, having to disguise himself and take service.
Yudhishthira
answered: "I am thinking of asking Virata to take me in his service as a
courtier. I could delight him with my conversation and my dexterity at dice. I
shall take the garb of a sanyasin and shall keep him agreeably engaged by my
skill in reading omens and knowledge ofastrology as well as of the Vedas,
Vedangas, ethics, politics and other sciences. I shall have to be careful of
course, but be not anxious about me. I shall tell him that I was an intimate
friend of Yudhishthira and learnt these things while I was privileged to be
with him. O Bhima, what works will you, who conquered and slew Baka and
Hidimba, take up under Virata? You saved us by killing Jatasura. Valor and
strength are over-flowing from you. What disguise can hide your mighty
personality and enable you to live unknown in the country of Mastya?"
Yudhishthira was in tears as he put this question to Bhima.
Bhima
laughingly replied: "O king, I
think of taking service as a cook in the court of Virata. You know that I have
a great appetite and that I am also an expert in cooking. I shall please Virata
by preparing such dainty food as he has never tasted. I shall chop the trees of
the forest and bring heaps of fuel. I shall also delight the king by contending
with and defeating the wrestlers who come to his court."
This
made Yudhishthira anxious for he feared that danger might befall them if Bhima
engaged himself in wrestling bouts. At once Bhima spoke thus to calm his fears:
"I
shall not kill anyone. I may give a bad jolt to any wrestler who deserves it
but I shall not kill anyone. I shall restrain mad bulls, buffaloes and other
wild animals and thus entertain king Virata."
Afterwards
Yudhishthira addressed Arjuna: "What profession do you propose to take up?
How can you hide your towering valor?"
When
he asked this question Yudhishthira could not restrain him from narrating the
brilliant exploits of Arjuna. He spoke of his brother's glory in twenty verses.
Well, who deserves praise if not Arjuna?
Arjuna
replied: "Revered brother, I shall hide myself in the guise of a eunuch
and serve the ladies of the court. I shall hide under a jacket the scars on my
arms made by the constant chafing of the bowstring. When I rejected Urvasi's
amorous overtures on the ground that she was like a mother unto me, she cursed
me with loss of manhood. But through Indra's grace the curse would hold good
only for a year, and the time would be mine to choose. I shall serve out that
year of loss of manhood now. Wearing bangles made of white conchs, braiding my
hair like a woman, and clothing myself in female attire, I shall engage myself
in menial work in the inner apartments of Virata's queen. I shall teach the
women singing and dancing. And I shall seek service saying that I used to serve
Draupadi in Yudhishthira's court." Saying this, Arjuna turned to Draupadi
and smiled.
Yudhishthira
was in tears. "Alas! Have the fates decreed that he, who is the equal of
Sri Krishna himself in fame and valor, a scion of Bharata's line, who stands
high like the great golden Mount Meru, must go and seek employment of Virata as
a eunuch in the queen's inner apartments?" he said brokenly.
Yudhishthira
then turned to Nakula and asked him what work he would engage in and, as he
thought of Madri, the mother of Nakula, tears rolled down his eyes.
Nakula
replied: "I shall work in King Virata's stables. My mind delights in
training and looking after horses. For I know the heart of horses and have
knowledge of their ailments and cure. I can not only ride and break horses but
also harness and drive them in a chariot. I shall say that I had looked after
the horses of the Pandavas and I have no doubt Virata will take me in his
service."
Yudhishthira
asked Sahadeva: "You, with the intelligence of Brihaspati, the priest and
the preceptor of the gods, and the knowledge of Sukra, the teacher of the
asuras, what work will you take up?"
Sahadeva
replied: "Let Nakula look after horses. I shall tend the cows. I shall
guard Virata's cattle from the ravages of disease and the attacks of wild
beasts."
"O
Draupadi," but Yudhishthira could not find words to ask her what she
proposed to do. She was dearer to him than life itself, worthy of all reverence
and protection, and it seemed sacrilege to talk of service. She was a princess,
the daughter of a king, nobly born, tenderly nurtured. Yudhishthira felt choked
by shame and despair.
Draupadi
saw his grief and spoke these brave words: "O best of kings, do not grieve
or suffer anxiety on my account. I shall be a sairandhri in the court of the
queen of Virata, the companion and attendant of the princess. I shall preserve
my freedom and chastity, for the attendant and companion of a princess has this
right and can exercise it. I shall pass my days in such light tasks as braiding
the hair and entertaining the women of the court with small talk. I shall
represent that I had thus served princess Draupadi in Yudhishthira's court and
seek employment from the queen. Thus shall I remain unknown to others."
Yudhishthira
praised Draupadi's courage and said: "O auspicious one, you speak as
befits one of your family."
When
the Pandavas thus decided, Dhaumya blessed them and advised them thus:
"Those who are engaged in service under a king should always be vigilant.
They must serve without talking too much. They may give their counsel only when
asked, and never obtrude it. They should praise the king on befitting
occasions. All things, no matter how small, may be done only after informing
the king, who is a veritable fire in human form. Do not go too near him, nor
yet appear to avoid him. Even though a person may be trusted by the king and
have great authority, still be should always behave as if he would be dismissed
immediately, It would be foolishness to place too much confidence in a king.
One may not sit in the conveyance, seat or chariot of the king, presuming on
his affection. A servant of the king should ever be active and self-restrained.
He should not be excessively elated, nor unduly depressed, by being honored or
dishonored by the king. He may not reveal the secrets confided to him, nor may
he receive anything in the form of gift from the citizens. He should not be
jealous of other servants. The king may
place fools in positions of authority, leaving aside the wise. Such waywardness
should be ignored. One cannot be too careful with the ladies of the court.
There should not be the faintest suggestion of indelicacy in one's conduct
towards them."
Dhaumya
then blessed the Pandavas: "Live thus in patience for one year, serving
the king Virata, and then, you will pass the rest of your days in happiness,
regaining your lost throne."
YUDHISHTHIRA put on the
garb of a sanyasin. Arjuna transformed himself into a eunuch. Others also
disguised themselves. But no disguise could take away their natural charm,
grace and nobility of appearance.
When they went to King
Virata seeking service, they seemed to him born to command and rule rather than
to serve. He hesitated, at first, to engage them in service but yielding to
their urgent solicitations, he finally appointed them to the places they sought
of him.
Yudhishthira became the
king's companion and spent his days in playing dice with him. Bhima worked as
the chief of the cooks. He also entertained the king by wrestling with the
reputed men of might whom came to the court, and by controlling wild animals.
Arjuna assumed the name
of Brihannala and taught dancing, singing and instrumental music to Princess
Uttara, the daughter of Virata, and the ladies. Nakula looked after the horses
and Sahadeva looked after the cows and the bulls.
The princess Draupadi
who, if fate had been less cruel, should herself have been served by many
maids, had now to pass her days in serving Sudeshna, Virata's queen. She lived
in the inner apartments of the palace as maid and companion, engaging herself
in uncongenial tasks.
Kichaka, the brother of
Sudeshna, was the commander-in-chief of Virata's army and it was to him that
the old king Virata owed his power and prestige. Kichaka wielded such vast
influence that people used to say that Kichaka was the real king of the Matsya
country and old Virata king only in name.
Kichaka was
inordinately vain of his strength and his influence over the king. He was so
smitten with Draupadi's beauty that he conceived an uncontrollable passion for
her. And he was so sure of his own attractions and power that it never occurred
to him that she, though a mere maidservant could resist his will. He made
amorous overtures to her, which greatly vexed her.
Draupadi was too shy to
speak of this to Sudeshna or to others. She gave out that her husbands were
Gandharvas who would mysteriously kill those who tried to dishonor her.
Her good conduct and
lustre made every one believe in her story about the Gandharvas. But Kichaka
was not to be frightened so easily and he sought persistently to seduce
Draupadi.
His persecution became
so intolerable that at last she complained of it to Queen Sudeshna, and
implored her protection. Kichaka, of course, had greater influence over his
sister, and he shamelessly confided to her his unlawful passion for her maid
and sought her aid to compass his wish.
He represented himself
as dying of desire. "I am so full of torment," he said, "that
from the time I met your maid, I do not get any sleep or rest. You must save my
life by managing somehow to make her receive my advances favorably." The
queen tried to dissuade him but Kichaka would not listen. And finally Sudeshna
yielded. Both of them decided upon a plan to entrap Draupadi.
One night, many
sweetmeats and intoxicating drinks were prepared in the house of Kichaka and a
great feast was arranged. Sudeshna called Sairandhri to her side and handing
her a beautiful golden jug bade her go and bring her a jug of wine from
Kichaka's house.
Draupadi hesitated to
go to the house of the infatuated Kichaka at that hour and begged hard that
someone else of her many attendants might be sent, but Sudeshna did not listen.
She pretended to be angry and said sharply: "Go, you must. I can not send
anyone else," and poor Draupadi had to obey.
Draupadi's fears were
justified. When she reached Kichaka's house, that wretch, maddened with lust
and wine, began to pester her with urgent entreaties and solicitations.
She rejected his
prayers and said: "Why do you, who belong to a noble royal family, seek
me, born of a low caste? Why do you take to the wrong path? Why do you approach
me, a married lady? You will perish. My protectors, the Gandharvas, will kill
you in their anger."
When Draupadi would not
yield to his entreaties, Kichaka seized her by the arm and pulled her about.
But putting down the vessel she carried, she wrenched herself free and fled,
hotly pursued by the maddened Kichaka.
She fled to the court
wailing loudly. But even there, intoxicated not only with wine, but even more
by his power and influence, Kichaka followed her and kicked her in the presence
of all with abusive words.
Everyone was afraid of
the all-powerful commander-in-chief and no one was bold enough to oppose him.
Draupadi could not bear
the sorrow and anger she felt at the thought of her helplessness under the
intolerable insult offered to her.
Her deep distress made
her forget the danger that would befall the Pandavas if they were discovered
prematurely. She went that night to Bhima and waking him up, gave vent to her
agonized sense of wrong.
After telling him how
brutally Kichaka had pursued and insulted her, she appealed piteously to Bhima
for protection and revenge. She said in a voice choked with sobs:
"I cannot bear
this any longer. You must kill this wretch at once. For your sake, to help you
keep your promise, I serve in a menial office and even prepare sandal paste for
Virata. I have not minded it, I, who have till now served only you or Mother
Kunti, whom I love and honor. But now, I have to serve these wretches, fearful
every moment of some disgraceful outrage. Not that I mind hard work, see my
hands." And she showed her hands, which were cracked and stained with
menial tasks.
Bhima respectfully
carried her hands to his face and eyes, and speechless with sorrow and pity and
love, he dried her tears. Finally he found his voice, and said thickly:
"I care not for
the promise of Yudhishthira or the advice of Arjuna. I care not what may happen
but I will do as you say. I will kill Kichaka and his gang here and now!"
and he rose.
But Draupadi warned
Bhima not to be hasty. They talked it over and finally decided that Kichaka
should be beguiled to come alone at night to a retired spot in the dancing hall
where he should find waiting for him Bhima disguised as a woman, instead of
Draupadi.
Next morning, Kichaka
renewed his hateful attentions and vaingloriously said to Draupadi: "O
Sairandhri, I threw you down and kicked you in the presence of the king. Did
any one there come forward to help you? Virata is only king in name of this
Matsya country. But I, the commander-in-chief, am the real sovereign. Now, do
not be a fool, but come and enjoy life with me, with all royal honors. I shall
be your devoted servant." And he begged and bullied and cringed, devouring
her the while with lust-reddened eyes.
Draupadi pretended to
yield and said: "Kichaka, believe me, I can no longer resist your
solicitations. But none of your companions or brothers should know of our
relations. If you swear that you will faithfully keep the secret from others, I
shall yield to your wish."
Kichaka delightedly
agreed to the condition and he promised to go alone to a place of assignation
that very night.
She said: "The
women have their dancing lessons during daytime in the dancing hall and return
to their own quarters at nightfall. None will be in the dancing hall at night.
Come there tonight. I shall be waiting for you there. You can have your will of
me."
Kichaka reveled in
happiness. That night, Kichaka took his bath, perfumed and decked himself, went
to the dancing hall and finding with joy that the doors were open, gently
entered the place.
In the very dim light,
he saw someone lying there on a couch, no doubt Sairandhri. He groped his way
in the dark, and gently laid his hands on the person of the sleeper.
Alas! It was not the
soft form of Sairandhri that he touched but the iron frame of Bhima who lept
forth on him like a lion on its prey and hurled him to the ground. But
surprised as he was, Kichaka was no coward, and he was now fighting for dear
life.
Grimly they wrestled,
Kichaka no doubt thinking he had to do with one of the Gandharva husbands. They
were not ill matched, for at that time Bhima, Balarama and Kichaka were reputed
to be in the same class in strength and wrestling skill.
The struggle between
Bhima and Kichaka was like that between Vali and Sugriva. In the end Bhima
killed Kichaka, pounding and kneading his body into a shapeless lump of flesh.
Then he gave the glad
news of Kichaka's punishment to Draupadi and went in haste to his kitchen,
bathed, rubbed sandal paste over his body and slept with satisfaction.
Draupadi awoke the
guards of the court and said to them: "Kichaka came to molest me, but as I
had warned him, the Gandharvas, my husbands, made short work of him. Your
commander-in-chief, who fell a prey to lust, has been killed. Look at
him." And she showed them the corpse of Kichaka, which had been reduced to
such a shapeless mass that it had no human semblance.
THE fate of Kichaka
made Draupadi an object of fear to the people of Virata. "This woman, so
beautiful that she captures all hearts, is as dangerous as she is lovely, for
the Gandharvas guard her. She is a great danger to the people of the city and
the members of the royal household, for the Gandharvas may stop at nothing in
their jealous anger. It would be best to send her out of the city." Reflecting
thus, the citizens went to Sudeshna and prayed to her to expel Draupadi.
Sudeshna told Draupadi:
"You are, no doubt, a very virtuous lady, but kindly leave our city. I
have had enough of you."
There was only one
month more to complete the stipulated period of living incognito and Draupadi
begged earnestly to be permitted to stay just another month by when, she said,
her Gandharva husbands would have realised their objects and would be ready to
take her away with them.
The Gandharvas would be
very grateful to King Virata and his kingdom. Whether grateful or not, the
Gandharvas could be deadly if irritated and Sudeshna was too afraid of Draupadi
to refuse her request.
From the beginning of
the thirteenth year, the spies of Duryodhana, under his express orders, had
searched for the Pandavas in all possible places of hiding.
After several months of
futile search, they reported their failure to Duryodhana and added that
probably the Pandavas had perished of privations.
Then came the news that
the powerful Kichaka had been killed in single combat by some Gandharva on
account of a woman.
There were only two
persons who could kill Kichaka, and Bhima was one of them. And so they
suspected that Bhima might have been the vengeful Gandharva who had killed Kichaka.
Duryodhana also felt that the lady who was the cause of the killing might be
Draupadi. He expressed his doubts in the open assembly.
He said: "I
suspect that the Pandavas are in Virata's city. Now, he is one of the kings who
are too stiff-necked to court our friendship. It would be a good thing to
invade his country and carry away his cows. If the Pandavas are hiding there,
they will certainly come out to fight with us to repay Virata's hospitality and
we can easily spot them. If we discover them there and we can sure before the
stipulated time, they will have to go to the forest again for another twelve,
years. If, on the other hand, the Pandavas are not there, there is nothing
lost."
King Susarma, the ruler
of Trigarta heartily supported him. "The king of Matsya is my enemy."
he said, "and Kichaka has given me a lot of trouble. Kichaka's death must
have weakened Virata considerably. Give me leave to attack Virata now."
Karna seconded this
proposition. They unanimously came to the decision that Susarma should attack
Matsya from the south and draw off the army of Virata to the south for defence.
Duryodhana, with the Kaurava army, would then launch a surprise attack on
Virata from the northern side, which would be relatively undefended.
Susarma invaded Matsya
from the south seized the cattle and laid waste the gardens and fields on the
way. The cowherds ran in great distress to Virata, who now very much wished
that Kichaka were alive, for he surely would have made short work of the
raiders. When he said so to Kanka (the assumed name by which Yudhishthira was
known in Virata's court) the latter said: "O king, be not worried. Even
though I am a hermit, I am an expert in warfare. I shall put on armor and go in
a chariot and drive away your enemies. Please instruct that your horse keeper
Dharmagranthi, your chief cook Valala, and your stable herd Tantripala may also
get into chariots and help us. I have heard that they are great fighters.
Kindly give orders that the necessary chariots and the weapons may be given to
us."
Delighted, Virata was
only too willing to accept the offer. The chariots were ready. All the Pandavas
excepting Arjuna went out with the army of Virata to oppose Susarma and his
men.
A fierce fight ensued
between the armies of Virata and Susarma, with much loss of life on both sides.
Susarma attacked Virata and surrounded his chariot, compelling him to get down
and fight on foot.
Susarma captured Virata
and held him captive in his chariot. With the capture of Virata, the army of
Matsya lost heart and began to scatter in all directions, when Yudhishthira
commanded Bhima to attack Susarma and release Virata and rally the scattered
Matsya forces.
At these words of
Yudhishthira, Bhima was about to uproot a tree, but Yudhishthira stopped him
and said: "No such tricks, please, and no battle cry or your identity will
be revealed. Fight like anybody else from the chariot with your bows and
arrows."
Bhima accordingly got
into the chariot attacked the enemy, set Virata free and captured Susarma. The
dispersed forces of Matsya rallied into new formations charged and defeated the
army of Susarma.
As soon as the news of
Susarma's defeat reached the city, the people were extremely jubilant. They
decorated the city and went forth to welcome their victorious king back home.
When they were thus
making preparations to receive king Virata, the big army of Duryodhana came
down on them from the north, and began despoiling the cattle ranches on the
outskirts of the city.
The Kaurava army
marched in force and rounded up the countless cows that were there. The leader
of the cowherds ran to the city and said to the prince Uttara: "O prince,
the Kauravas are marching on, robbing us of our cows. King Virata has gone
south to fight against the Trigarta. We are in consternation as there is no one
to protect us. You are the king's son and we look to you for protection. Pray,
come and recover the cows for the honor of your family."
When the leader of the
cowherds made this complaint to Uttara in the presence of the people and
especially of the women of the palace, the prince felt flushed with valor and
proudly said:
"If only I can get
someone to be my charioteer I will recover the cows single-handed. Well, my
feats of arms will be worth seeing and people will know there is little to
choose between Arjuna and myself."
When Uttara said these
words Draupadi was in the inner apartments and must have laughed within
herself.
She ran to princess
Uttara and said: "O princess, great danger has be fallen the country. The
cowherds have complained to the young that the Kaurava army is advancing on our
city from the north and has captured cattle ranches and cows on the outskirts.
The prince is eager to fight them and is in need of a charioteer. Should such a
small thing as that stand in the way of victory and glory? I tell you that
Brihannala has been Arjuna's charioteer. When I was in the service of the queen
of the Pandavas, I heard of this fact and I also know that Brihannala learnt
archery from Arjuna. Order Brihannala immediately to go and drive the prince's
chariot."
Arjuna as Brihannala
pretended to be unfamiliar with armor and raised a laugh at his awkwardness in
wearing it.
The women of the palace
laughed at his fears and told him again not to be afraid for Uttara would look
after him.
Arjuna spent some time
in such fun but, when he harnessed the horses, it could be seen that, at least,
he was an expert charioteer. And when he held the reins, the horses seemed to
love and obey him.
"The prince will
be victorious. We shall despoil the enemy of their embroidered robes and
distribute them to you as the prize of victory" were the last words of
Brihannala to the women of the palace, as the chariot rapidly bore the prince
outwards to battle.
UTTARA, the son of
Virata, set off with enthusiasm from the city in his chariot with Brihannala as
his charioteer and commanded the latter to drive quickly to the place where the
Kauravas had rounded up the cows.
Willingly, the horses
were put to their best speed. And presently the Kaurava army was sighted, at
first a gleaming, line, enveloped in a cloud of dust that seemed to go up to
the skies.
Going nearer, Uttara
saw the great army drew in battle by Bhishma, Drona, Kripa, Duryodhana and
Karna. At that sight, his courage, which had been gradually drying up during
the rapid rush to the field, was quite gone. His mouth went dry and his hair
stood on end.
His limbs were all in a
tremble. He shut his eyes with both his hands to keep out the fearsome sight.
He said:"How can I, single-handed, attack an army? I have no troops, since
the king, my father, has taken all available forces, leaving the city
unprotected. It is absurd to think that one man can alone fight a well-equipped
army, led by world-renowned warrior! Oh Brihannala, turn back the
chariot."
Brihannala laughed and
said: "O prince, you started from the city, full of fierce determination
and the ladies expect great things of you. The citizens also have put their
trust in you. Sairandhri praised me and I have come at your request. If we
return without recovering the cows, we shall become the laughing-stock of all.
I will not turn back the chariot. Let us stand firm and fight. Have no fear."
With these words Brihannala began to drive the chariot towards the enemy and
they approached quite close to them.
Uttara's distress was
pitiable. He said in a quaking voice: "I cannot do it, I simply cannot.
Let the Kauravas march off with the cows and if the women laugh, let them. I do
not care. What sense is there in fighting people who are immeasurably stronger
than we fight? Do not be a fool! Turn back the chariot. Otherwise, I shall jump
out and walk back." With these words Uttara cast off his bows and arrows,
got down from the chariot and began to fly towards the city, mad with panic.
This should not be
taken as something that has never happened in life. Nor is Uttara's panic
during his first battle, by any means, singular.
Fear is a strong instinctive
feeling, though it can be overcome by will-power or strong motives like love,
shame or hate, or more usually, by discipline.
Even men who have
afterwards distinguished themselves by heroic deeds have confessed to having
felt something like panic fear, the first time they came under fire. Uttara was
by no means an exceptional coward, for he fought and fell gauntly at
Kurukshetra.
Arjuna pursued the
running prince, shouting to him to stop and behave like a Kshatriya. The
braided hair of the charioteer began to dance and his clothes began to wave as
he ran in pursuit of Uttara. The prince fled hither and thither, trying to
dodge the hands that would stop him.
Those of the Kaurava
army, who could see this spectacle, found it amusing. Drona was puzzled at the
sight of Brihannala who, albeit dressed fantastically, seemed a man rigged out
as a woman and to remind him curiously of Arjuna.
When he remarked about
this, Karna said: "How can this be Arjuna? What does it matter even if he
is? What can Arjuna alone do against us in the absence of the other Pandavas?
The king has left his son alone in the city and gone with his whole army to
fight against Susarma. The young prince has brought the attendant of the ladies
of the palace as his charioteer. That is all."
Poor Uttara was
imploring Brihannala to let him go, promising untold wealth if he did so. He
appealed to his pity: "I am the only son of my mother. I am a child grown
up on my mother's lap. I am full of fear."
But, Brihannala wanted
to save him from himself, and would not let him go. He pursued him, seized him
and dragged him to the chariot by force.
Uttara began to sob and
said: "What a fool I was to brag! Alas! What will happen to me?"
Arjuna said kindly,
soothing the prince's fears: "Be not afraid. I shall fight with the
Kauravas. Help me by looking after the horses and driving the chariot, and I
shall do the rest. Believe me, no good ever came of flight. We will rout the
enemy and recover your cows. You will have all the glory." With these words
Arjuna lifted the prince on to the chariot and, putting the reins in his hands,
asked him to drive towards a tree near the burial ground.
Drona, who was watching
all this intently, knew that the fantastically dressed charioteer was Arjuna
and shared his knowledge with Bhishma.
Duryodhana turned to
Karna and said: "Why should we worry who he is? Even if he is Arjuna, he
will be only playing into our hands, for his being discovered will send the Pandavas to the forest for another twelve
years."
As soon as they came
near the tree Brihannala bade the prince get down, climb the tree and take down
the arms hidden there. The prince said in alarm and grief: "People say
that what hangs on this tree is the corpse of an old huntress. How can I touch
a dead body? How can you ask me to do such a thing?"
Arjuna said: "It
is not a corpse, prince. I know that it contains the weapons of the Pandavas.
Climb up the tree bravely and bring them down. Do not delay."
Seeing that resistance
was of no avail Uttara climbed up the tree as Brihannala had asked him to and
took, in great disgust, the bag tied up there and came down.
When the leather bag
was opened, he saw weapons as bright as the sun. Uttara stood amazed at the
sight of the gleaming weapons and covered his eyes.
He mustered courage and
touched them. The touch seemed to send a stream of hope and high courage into
him. He asked with ardor: "O charioteer, what a wonder! You say that these
bows, arrows and swords belong to the Pandavas. They have been deprived of
their kingdom and they have retired to the forest. Do you know them? Where are
they?"
Then Arjuna told him
briefly how they were all in Virata's court. He said: "Kanka, who serves
the king, is Yudhishthira. Valala, the cook who prepares such nice dishes for
your father, is none other than Bhima. Sairandhri, for insulting whom Kichaka
was killed, is Draupadi. Dharmagranthi, who looks after the horses and
Tantripala, the keeper of the cows, are Nakula and Sahadeva respectively. I am
Arjuna. Be not afraid. O prince, you will soon see me defeat the Kauravas even
in the sight of Bhishma, Drona and Aswatthama and recover the cows. You will
also gain renown and it will be a lesson to you."
Then Uttara folded his
hands and said: "O Arjuna, how fortunate I am to see you with my own eyes!
So, Arjuna is the victorious hero whose very contact has put heart and courage
into me. Forgive the wrongs I have done through ignorance."
As they approached the
Kaurava host, Arjuna recounted some of his heroic deeds, so that Uttara might
not lose grip of his newly awakened courage. Arriving in front of the Kauravas,
he got down, prayed to God, removed the conch-bangles from his hands and put on
leather gauntlets.
He then tied a cloth on
his flowing hair, stood facing the east, meditated on his armor, got into the
chariot and gloried in the familiar feel of his famous Gandiva bow. He stringed
it and thrice twanged the string whose shrill note raised an echo from all
sides.
Hearing the sound, the
heroes of the Kaurava army said to one another: "This surely is Gandiva's
voice." When Arjuna stood on the chariot in all his godlike stature and
blew his conch Devadatta, the Kaurava army was alarmed and a frenzied shout arose
that the Pandavas had come.
The story of Uttara,
who spoke boastfully in the ladies' boudoirs and fled in panic at the sight of
the hostile array, his not been introduced in the Mahabharata, merely as a
comic interlude.
It is in ordinary human
nature to look with contempt on lower levels of conduct in ability. The rich
scorn the poor, the beautiful scorn the plain, and the strong scorn the weak.
Brave men despise cowards. But Arjuna was no ordinary man. He was a great soul
and a true hero who felt that his duty as a strong, brave man was to help
others to rise above their weakness.
Knowing that nature had
endowed him with courage and bravery at birth, and that he owed them to no
special exertions on his part, he had the true humility of the really great.
And he did what he could to put courage into Uttara and make him worthy of his
lineage. This was Arjuna's characteristic nobility. He never abused his
strength and power. One of his many names is Bibhatsu, which means one who
shrank from doing an unworthy act, and he lived up to it.
THE chariot of Arjuna
thundered on its way, seeming to shake the earth. The hearts of the Kauravas
quaked when they heard the twang of the Gandiva bow.
"Our army must be
arrayed well and with care. Arjuna, has come," said Drona anxiously.
Duryodhana did not at all like the honor Drona did Arjuna by this anxiety.
He said to Karna:
"The Pandavas' pledge was that they would spend twelve years in the forest
and the following year undiscovered. The thirteenth year has not ended yet.
Arjuna has revealed himself before the time. Why then should we give way to
fear? The Pandavas will have to go again to the forest for another twelve
years. Drona is suffering from the cold feet of the too learned. Let us leave
him in the rear and advance to the battle."
Karna assented and
said: "Our soldiers' heart is not in the fight and they are trembling with
fear. They say that the man, who stands so proudly, bow in hand, on the
chariot, speeding towards us, is Arjuna. But why need we fear even if it were
Parasurama? I will myself stop the advancing warrior and redeem my word to you,
and fight him, aye, even if all the others stand back. They may drive away the
cows of the Matsya king while, single handed, I shall give them cover, engaging
Arjuna in battle," and Karna, as usual, began to blow his own trumpet.
When Kripa heard these
words of Karna, he said: "This is pure tomfoolery. We must all make a
combined attack on Arjuna. That would be our one chance of success. Do not
therefore, brag about your opposing him alone and unaided."
Karna grew angry. He
said: "The acharya ever delights in singing Arjuna's praises and in
magnifying his prowess. Whether he does so from fear or excessive fondness for
the Pandavas, I do not know. Those, who are afraid, need not fight, but may
simply look on, while others, who are true to the salt they have eaten, engage
in battle. I, for one, a mere soldier who loves my friends and hates my
enemies, will stand here and fight. What business have men learned in the
Vedas, who love and praise their enemies, got here?" said he sneeringly.
Aswatthama, Drona's son
and Kripa's nephew, could not hear unmoved this sneer at the venerable
teachers. He said sternly to Karna: "We have not yet taken the king back
to Hastinapura, and the battle is yet to be won. Your brag is idle vainglory.
It may be that we are not kshatriyas and that we belong to the class that
recites the Vedas and the sastras. But I have not been able to find in any
sastra that it is honor able for kings to seize kingdoms by cheating at dice.
Even those, who fight and conquer kingdoms, do not crow too loudly about it.
And I cannot see what you have done to be proud of. The fire is silent and yet
cooks the food. The sun shines but not on him. Likewise, Mother earth sustains
all things, movable and immovable, and supports her burden without so much as a
whisper. What claim to praise has a kshatriya who has unlawfully seized
another's kingdom at a game of dice? To have cheated the Pandavas of their kingdom
is no more a matter of glory than to have spread traps for unsuspecting birds.
O Duryodhana, O Karna, in what battle did your heroes defeat the Pandavas? You
dragged Draupadi to the assembly. Are you proud of it? You have destroyed the
Kaurava race like an empty-headed clod that fells a big sandal tree for love of
its fragrance. A fight with Arjuna, you will find, is a very different thing
from a throw of the dice. The Gandiva will send forth sharp arrows and not
fours and twos as in the game of dice. Vain fools, do you think that Sakuni
can, by mere cheating, sneak a victory in battle for you?"
The leaders of the
Kaurava army lost their patience and began a loud wordy warfare. Seeing this,
the grandsire was filled with sorrow and said:
"The wise man does
not insult his teachers. One should engage in battle only after a careful
calculation of time, place and circumstance. Even wise people often lose their
balance and good sense over their own affairs. Ruffled by anger, even the
usually so sensible Duryodhana fails to recognise that the warrior who stands
braving our army is Arjuna. His intellect has been clouded by anger. O
Aswatthama, pray do not mind Karna's offensive remarks. You must take them as
intended merely to put the preceptors on their best spirit and sting them into
action. This is not the time to nurse enmity or sow dissension. Drona, Kripa
and Aswatthama should forget and forgive. Where can the Kauravas find in the
whole world, heroes superior to Drona, the preceptor, and his son Aswatthama, who
combine in themselves Vedic scholarship and kshatriya heroism? We know of none
other than Parasurama who can equal Drona. We can conquer Arjuna only if we all
join together and fight him. Let us address ourselves to the task before us. If
we quarrel amongst ourselves we cannot fight Arjuna."
Thus spoke the
grandsire. Soothed by his noble words, angry feelings subsided. Bhishma turned
to Duryodhana and continued:
"Best of kings,
Arjuna has come. The stipulated period of thirteen years terminated yesterday.
Your calculation is wrong, as men learned in the science of planetary movements
will tell you. I knew that the period had ended when Arjuna blew his conch.
Reflect a little before deciding on war. If you wish to make peace with the
Pandavas, now is the time for it. What do you seek, a just and honorable peace
or a mutually destructive war? Ponder well and make your choice."
Duryodhana replied:
"Revered sire, I have no wish for peace. I shall not give even a village
to the Pandavas. Let us get ready for war."
Then Drona said:
"Let prince Duryodhana take away a fourth of the army to guard him and
return to Hastinapura. Let another surround the cows and seize them. If we
return without seizing the cows it would amount to an acknowledgment of defeat.
With the rest of the army, the five of us will give battle to Arjuna."
The Kaurava forces
ranged themselves accordingly in battle array. Arjuna said: "O Uttara, I
do not see Duryodhana's chariot or Duryodhana. I see Bhishma standing, clad in
armor. I think Duryodhana is driving away the cows to Hastinapura. Let us
pursue him and recover the cows." With these words Arjuna moved away from the Kaurava army and went after Duryodhana
and the cows.
And as he was going, he
respect fully greeted his teachers and the old grandsire, by drawing his
Gandiva bow and sending arrows so as to fall near their feet.
Reverently saluting
them in this heroic fashion, he left them and pursued Duryodhana. Arjuna
reached the place where the cows were gathered and put to rout the marauding
forces.
He then turned to the
cowherds and asked them to take the cows to the barns, which they did with
great rejoicing. Arjuna then pursued Duryodhana. Seeing this, Bhishma and the
other Kaurava warriors rushed to the rescue and, surrounding Arjuna, sent forth
arrows against him.
Arjuna carried on a
wonderful fight. First, he made at Karna and drove him from the battlefield.
After that, he attacked and defeated Drona. Seeing Drona standing spent with
fatigue, Aswatthama joined in the fight and attacked Arjuna, which gave Arjuna
an opportunity of letting Drona withdraw from the field.
Then, there ensued a
bitter struggle between Aswatthama and Arjuna. When Aswatthama grew weary,
Kripa relieved him and maintained the attack against Arjuna.
But Kripa also
sustained defeat and the whole army was routed and fled in fear. Though rallied
and brought back to the attack by Bhishma, Drona and others, there was no fight
left in them. Finally, they left the field, after a glorious fight between
Bhishma and Arjuna, which, it is said, the gods themselves came to see.
The attempt to head off
Arjuna’s pursuit of Duryodhana thus failed and soon Arjuna came up with
Duryodhana and strongly attacked him. Duryodhana was defeated and fled from the
battlefield, but not far, because, when Arjuna taunted him with cowardice, he
turned round like a serpent and resumed the fight.
Bhishma and others
surrounded and protected him. Arjuna fought and finally, he employed a magic
weapon that made them all fall down unconscious on the battlefield. While they
were in that condition he snatched away their garments. The seizure of the
clothes of the enemy was the sign of decisive victory in those days.
When Duryodhana came,
Bhishma sent him back to the city. The whole army returned to Hastinapura after
this humiliating defeat.
Arjuna said: "O
Uttara, turn back the horses. Our cows have been regained. Our enemies have
fled. O prince, return to your kingdom, adorning your person with sandal paste
and decked with flowers."
On the way back, Arjuna
deposited the weapons as before on the tree and dressed himself once more as
Brihannala. He sent messengers in advance to proclaim in the city that Uttara
had won a glorious victory.
AFTER defeating
Susarma, king of Trigarta, Virata returned to his capital amidst the
acclamations of the citizens. When he reached his palace, he saw that Uttara
was not there and the womenfolk told him with much elation that Uttara had set
out to conquer the Kauravas.
They had not a doubt that
their hand some prince could conquer the whole world. But the king's heart sank
within him at the news, for he knew the impossible task which the delicately
nurtured prince had taken on himself with no better following than a eunuch.
"My dearly loved son
must be dead by now," he cried, overwhelmed with anguish. He then bade his
ministers collect and send as strong a force as could be got together for
rescuing Uttara if he was still alive and bring him back. Scouts also were
immediately despatched to find out Uttara's whereabouts and fate.
Dharmaputra, now
disguised as the sanyasin Kanka, tried to comfort Virata by assuring him that
the prince could come to no harm, since Brihannala had gone as his charioteer.
"You do not know about her," said he. "I do. Whosoever fights
from a chariot driven by her, can be sure of victory. Further, the news of
Susarma's defeat must have reached there and the Kauravas must have
retreated."
Meanwhile courtiers
arrived from the field of battle with the glad news that Uttara had defeated
the Kaurava forces and recovered the kine.
This seemed too good to
be true, even to the fond father, but Yudhishthira smilingly reassured him.
Said he: "Have no doubts, O king. What the messengers say must be true.
When Brihannala went out as charioteer, success was certain. There is nothing
extraordinary in your son's victory. I happen to know that even Indra's
charioteer or Krishna's cannot equal Brihannala."
This seemed absurd to
Virata, but he was too happy to resent it. He made large gifts of precious
stones and other wealth to the messengers who brought the good news and ordered
public rejoicing. "My success over Susarma is nothing," he
proclaimed. "The prince's is the real victory. Let special prayers of
thanksgiving be offered at all places of worship. Let all the principal streets
are decorated with flags and the citizen’s go in procession to strains of
triumphal music. Make all arrangements to receive, in a befitting manner, my
lion-hearted boy."
Virata sent out
ministers, soldiers, and maidens to welcome his son, returning in triumph. When
the king retired to his private apartments, he asked Sairandhri to bring the
dice. He said to Kanka: "I cannot contain my joy. Come, let us play,"
and sat down to a game with Yudhishthira.
They talked while they
played and naturally, the king was full of his son's greatness and prowess.
"See the glory of my son, Bhuminjaya. He has put the famed Kaurava
warriors to flight."
"Yes,"
replied Yudhishthira with a smile. "Your son is indeed fortunate for, without
the best of good fortune, how could he have secured Brihannala to drive his
chariot?"
Virata was angry at
this persistent glorification of Brihannala at the expenses of Uttara.
"Why do you, again and again babble about the eunuch?" he cried.
"While I am
talking about my son's victory, you expatiate on the charioteering skill of the
eunuch, as if that were of any significance." The king's anger only
increased when Kanka remonstrated: "I know what I am talking about.
Brihannala is no ordinary person. The chariot she drives can never see defeat,
and whoever is in it, is sure of success in any undertaking, no matter how
difficult."
Now, this perverse
flouting could not be borne, and Virata in a passion flung the dice at
Yudhishthira's face and followed this up with a blow on Yudhishthira's cheek.
Yudhishthira was hurt and blood flowed down his face.
Sairandhri who was
nearby, wiped the blood with the edge of her garment and squeezed it into a
golden cup. "Why all this fuss? What are you collecting the blood into a
cup for?" demanded the angry king, who was still in a passion.
"A Sanyasin's
blood may not be split on the ground, O king," replied Sairandhri.
"The rains will fail in your land for as many years as there are drops in
the blood that is split on the earth. That was why I collected the blood in
this cup. I fear you do not know Kanka's greatness."
Meanwhile the
gatekeeper announced: "Uttara and Brihannala have arrived. The prince is
waiting for an audience with the king." Virata got up excitedly and said:
"Ask him in, ask him in." And Yudhishthira whispered to the sentry:
"Let Uttara come alone. Brihannala should stay behind."
He did this to prevent
a catastrophe, for he knew Arjuna would be unable to control his anger when he
saw the injury on his brother's face. He could not bear to see Dharmaputra hurt
by anyone except in fair battle.
Uttara entered and paid
due homage to his royal father. When he turned to do obeisance to Kanka be was
horrified to see his bleeding face, for now he knew that Kanka was the great
Yudhishthira.
"O king," he
cried, "who was it that caused hurt to this great one?"
Virata looked at his
son and said: "Why all this fuss about it? I struck him for untimely and
envious belittling of you when I was in an ocean of delight at the news of your
glorious victory. Each time I mentioned you, this unlucky brahmana extolled
your charioteer, the eunuch, and gave the victory to him. It was too silly
really, and I am sorry I struck him, but it is not worth talking about."
Uttara was overwhelmed
with fear. "Alas! You have done great wrong. Fall at his feet right now,
father, and pray forforgiveness or we will be destroyed, root and branch."
Virata, to whom all
this was inexplicable, stood with a puzzled frown not knowing what to do. But Uttara
was so anxious and importunate that he yielded and bowed to Yudhishthira asking
for pardon.
Thereafter, embracing
his son and making him sit, Virata said: "My boy, you are truly a hero. I
am in a fever of impatience to hear all about it. How did you defeat the
Kaurava army? How did you recover the kine?"
Uttara hung his head
down. "I conquered no army," he said, "and rescued no cows. All
that was the work of a god prince. He took up our cause, rescued me from
destruction, put the Kaurava soldiers to flight and brought the herd back. I
did nothing."
The king could hardly
believe his ears. "Where is that god prince?" he asked. "I must
see and thank the hero who rescued my son and beat back my foes. I will give my
daughter, Uttara, in marriage to him. Go and fetch him in."
"He has
disappeared for the time being," replied the prince, "but I think he
will come again either today or tomorrow." Uttara spoke thus because
Arjuna was indeed a prince of the gods and had also for the time being
disappeared in Brihannala.
In Virata's hall of
assembly, all the leading citizens had gathered to celebrate the king's victory
and the prince's. Kanka, Valala the cook, Brihannala, Tantripala and
Dharmagranthi, who were responsible for the victories, arrived also and entering
the hall, to the surprise of everyone, sat among the princes unbid.
Some explained the
conduct by saying that, after all, these humbler folk had rendered invaluable
service at a critical time and really deserved recognition.
Virata entered the
court. On seeing Kanka sanyasin and the cook and the others seated in places
reserved for princess and the nobility the king lost his temper and gave loud
vent to his displeasure.
When they felt they had
enough fun, the Pandavas disclosed their identity to the amazement of all
present. Virata was beside himself with joy to think that it was the Pandava
princes and Panchali who had been ministering to him all these days in
disguise. He embraced Kanka in exuberant gratitude and made a formal surrender
of his kingdom and his all to him, of course immediately receiving them back
with thanks. Virata also insisted that he should give his daughter in marriage
to Arjuna.
But Arjuna said:
"No, that would not be proper, for the princess learnt dancing and music
from me. I, as her teacher, am in the position of father to her." He,
however, agreed to accept her for his son Abhimanyu.
Meanwhile, envoys
arrived from the wicked and treacherous Duryodhana with a message for
Yudhishthira. "O son of Kunti," they said, "Duryodhana feels
very sorry that owing to the hasty action of Dhananjaya, you have to go back to
the woods again. He let himself be recognised before the end of the thirteenth
year and so, in accordance with your undertaking, you have to dwell in the
forest for another twelve years."
Dharmaputra laughed and
said: "Messengers, return quickly to Duryodhana and tell him to make
further inquiry. The venerable Bhishma and others learned in the stars will no
doubt tell him that full thirteen years had been completed before your forces
heard again the twang of Dhananjaya's bow and fled in fear."
THE thirteenth year
during which the Pandavas had to remain undiscovered came to an end.
No longer obliged to be
in disguise, they left Virata's capital as Pandavas and settled openly in
Upaplavya, another place in Matsya territory. From there, they sent emissaries
to summon their friends and relatives.
From Dwaraka came
Balarama and Krishna with Arjuna’s wife Subhadra, and her son, Abhimanyu and
accompanied by many Yadava warriors. Loud and long was the blare of
trumpet-conchs as the Matsya prince and the Pandavas went forth to receive Janardana.
Indrasena and many
others like him, who had at the beginning of the preceding year left the
Pandavas in the forest, rejoined them with their chariots at Upaplavya. The
Kasi prince and Saibya ruler arrived with their forces.
Drupada, the Panchala
prince, was there too with three divisions, bringing with him Sikhandin and
Draupadi's sons and her brother Dhrishtadyumna. There were many other princes
gathered at Upaplavya, well attached to the Pandavas,
Abhimanyu's marriage to
princess Uttara was solemnized according to Vedic rites before that illustrious
gathering of friendly heroes. The wedding celebrations over, they met in
conclave in Virata's hall of assembly.
Krishna sat next to
Yudhishthira and Virata, while Balarama and Satyaki were seated beside Drupada.
As the bustle died down, all eyes were turned on Krishna, who now rose to
speak.
"You all
know," said Krishna to the hushed assembly, "the story of the great
deceit how Yudhishthira was cheated at the game board and deprived of his
kingdom and exiled with his brothers and Draupadi to the forest. For thirteen
years, the sons of Pandu have patiently borne their trouble in redemption of
their pledged word. Ponder well and counsel a course, which will be in
consonance with dharma and contribute to the glory and welfare of both Pandavas
and Kauravas. For, Dharmaputra desires nothing that he cannot justly claim. He
wishes nothing but good even to the sons of Dhritarashtra who deceived him and
did him grievous wrong. In giving your counsel, bear in mind the fraud and
meanness of the Kauravas as well as the honorable magnanimity of the Pandavas.
Devise a just and honorable settlement. We do not know what Duryodhana has in
his mind. I feel we should send an able and upright emissary to him to persuade
him to a peaceful settlement by the restoration of half the kingdom to
Yudhishthira."
Balarama then rose to
address the gathering. "You have just heard Krishna," he said.
"The solution he propounds is wise and just. I endorse it as good for both
Duryodhana and Dharmaputra. If Kunti's sons can get back their kingdom by a
peaceful settlement, nothing could be better for them, the Kauravas and for all
concerned. Only then will there be happiness and peace in the land. Someone has
to go to convey to Duryodhana Yudhishthira's wish for a peaceful settlement and
bring an answer from him, a man who has the weight and the ability to bring
about peace and good understanding. The envoy should get the cooperation of
Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, Drona and Vidura, Kripa and Aswatthama and even of
Karna and Sakuni if possible, and secure support for Kunti's sons. He should be
one who, on no account, would give way to anger. Dharmaputra, with full
knowledge of consequences, staked his kingdom and lost it, obstinately
disregarding the reasoning of friends. Fully aware that he was no match for the
adept Sakuni, he yet played against him. He cannot now complain but can only
supplicate for his rights. A fit envoy would be one who is not a warmonger but
is dead set, in spite of every difficulty, on achieving a peaceful settlement.
Princes, I desire you to approach Duryodhana tactfully and make peace with him.
Let us avoid an armed conflict by all the means in our power. Only that which
accrues in peace is worth while. Out of war, nothing but wrong can issue."
Balarama's position was
that Yudhishthira knew what he was doing when he gambled away his kingdom and
could not now claim it as of right.
The fulfilment of the
conditions of exile could only give the Pandavas their personal freedom and not
their kingdom, that is to say, they need not serve another term of exile in the
forest. But it gave them no right to the return of their kingdom.
Dharmaputra could only
supplicate for the return of what he had lost and not claim it as of right.
Balarama did not relish an armed conflict among scions of the same family and
rightly held that war would lead only to disaster.
The poet puts an
eternal truth in Balarama's mouth.
Satyaki, the Yadava
warrior, who heard Balarama speak thus, could not contain himself. He rose in
anger and spoke indignantly:
"Balarama's words
do not strike me as in the least degree just. One can, if skilful enough, make
out a plausible plea for any case, but not all the skill in the world can
convert wrong into right or injustice into justice. I must protest against
Balarama's stand, which fills me with disgust. Do we not see in one and the
same tree, one branch bowed with fruit and another sticking out gaunt and
useless? So, of these brothers, Krishna speaks words that breathe the spirit of
dharma while Balarama's attitude is unworthy. And if you grant what cannot be
doubted that the Kauravas cheated Yudhishthira of his share of the kingdom, why
then, allowing them to keep it is as unjust as confirming a thief in the
possession of his booty! Anyone, who finds fault with Dharmaputra, does so in
cowardly fear of Duryodhana, not for any sound reason. O princes, forgive my
harsh speech. Not of his own volition but because the Kauravas pressed and
invited him to do so, did the novice and unwilling Dharmaputra play with a
dishonest gambler that game so fraught with disaster. Why should he bow and
supplicate before Duryodhana, now that he has fulfilled his pledges?
Yudhishthira is not a mendicant and need not beg. He has kept his word and so
have his brothers twelve years in exile in the forest and twelve months there
after in disguise according to their pledge. And yet, Duryodhana and his
associates, most shamelessly and dishonestly, question the performance. I shall
defeat these impudent villains in battle and they shall either seek Yudhishthira's
pardon or meet their doom. How can a righteous war be wrong in any case? There
is no sin in slaying enemies who take up arms and fight. To supplicate before
the enemy, is to incur disgrace. If Duryodhana desires war, he can have it and
we shall be quite ready for it. Let there be no delay and let us get on with
the preparations. Duryodhana is not going to part with territory without a war
and it would be folly to waste time."
Drupada's heart was
gladdened by Satyaki's resolute words. He rose and said: "Satyaki is right
and I support him. Soft words will not bring Duryodhana round to reason. Let us
continue our preparations for war and let our friends be warned without loss of
time to bring up their forces. Send word instantly to Salya, Dhrishtaketu,
Jayatsena and Kekaya. We must, of course, send a suitable envoy to
Dhritarashtra. The learned brahmana, who conducts the religious ceremonies in
my court, can be sent to Hastinapura, with confidence. Instruct him well as to
what he should say to Duryodhana and how he should convey the message to
Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Dronacharya."
When Drupada concluded,
Vasudeva (Krishna, the son of Vasudeva) rose and addressing Drupada, said:
"What you suggest
is practicable and also conforms to the kingly code. Baladeva and I are bound
to the Kauravas and the Pandavas with equal ties of affection. We came here for
princess Uttara's wedding and will return now to our city. Great are you among
the princes of the land, alike in age and wisdom, and entitled to advise us
all. Dhritarashtra too holds you, his boyhood friends, in high esteem like
Drona and Kripa. It is therefore only right that you should instruct the
brahmana envoy on his mission of peace. If he fails to persuade Duryodhana out
of his error, prepare for the inevitable conflict, my friends, and send word to
us."
The conference ended
and Krishna left for Dwaraka with his people. The Pandavas and their allies
went on with their preparations. Messengers went forth to all the friendly
princes who got busy and mobilised their respective armies.
Meanwhile, Duryodhana
and his brothers were not idle. They also began preparing for the coming
conflict and sent word to their friends to get their contingents ready for war.
News of these
preparations on both sides soon spread through out the land. "The constant
rapid journeying back and forth of princes caused a great stir everywhere. The
earth shook beneath the heavy tramp of marching legions," says the poet.
It would appear that
even in olden days, military preparations were made in much the same way as in
our times.
Drupada called in his
brahmana and said to him: "You know Duryodhana's bent of mind as well as
the qualities of the Pandavas. Go to him as the emissary of the Pandavas. The
Kauravas deceived the Pandavas with the connivance of their father
Dhritarashtra who would not listen to the sage advice of Vidura. Show the old,
weak king, who is misled by his son, the path of dharma and wisdom. You will
find in Vidura a great ally in this task. Your mission may lead to differences
of opinion among the elder statesmen such as Bhishma, Drona and Kripa as well
as among the warlords. And, if this happens, it will be some time before those
differences are smoothed out, which will be time gained for the completion of
the Pandavas war preparations. As long as you are in Duryodhana's capital
talking of peace, their preparations for war will receive a set-back which is
all to the good from the Pandavas' standpoint. If, by a miracle, you are able
to come back with good terms of peace, so much the better. I do not expect
Duryodhana will agree to a peaceful settlement. Still, to send one on a peace
mission will be advantageous to us."
In December 1941, the
Japanese were carrying on negotiations with the Americans and, immediately on
the breakdown of those talks, took them unawares and attacked Pearl Harbor
destroying their naval forces there.
Drupada's instruction
to the brahmana would show that this was no new technique. And that, even in
the old days, the same method was followed of carrying on negotiations and even
sincerely working for peace, but simultaneously preparing, with unremitting
vigor, for outbreak of war and carrying on peace talks with the object of
creating dissension in the enemy's ranks. There is nothing new under the sun!
HAVING sent Drupada's
brahmana to Hastinapura on the peace mission, the Pandavas sent word, at the
same time, to the princes likely to favor their cause to collect their forces
and hold themselves in readiness for war. To Dwaraka, Arjuna went himself.
Having understood
through his spies the turn events were taking, Duryodhana too did not remain
idle. Learning that Vasudeva (Krishna) was back in his home city, he sped
towards Dwaraka in his chariot, as fast as his swiftest horses could take him.
The two of them, Arjuna and Duryodhana, thus reached Dwaraka on the same day.
Krishna was fast
asleep. Because they were his close relatives, Arjuna and Duryodhana could go
into his bedroom. There they both waited for Krishna to wake up. Duryodhana,
who went in first, seated himself on a decorated throne-chair at the head of
the bed, while Arjuna kept standing at its foot with arms folded in respectful
posture.
When Mahadeva woke up,
his eyes fell on Arjuna who stood in front of him and he gave him warm welcome.
Turning then to Duryodhana, he welcomed him too and asked them what brought
them both to Dwaraka. Duryodhana was the first to speak.
"It looks,"
said he, "as though war would break out between us soon. If it does, you
must support me. Arjuna and I are equally beloved of you. We both claim equally
close relationship with you. You cannot say that either of us is nearer to you
than the other. I came here before Arjuna. Tradition has it that he who came
first should be shown preference. Janardana, you are the greatest among the
great; so it is incumbent on you to set an example to others. Confirm with your
conduct the traditional dharma and remember that it was I who came first."
To which Purushottama
(Krishna) answered: "Son of Dhritarashtra, it may be that you came here
first, but it was Kunti's son that I saw immediately on waking up. If you were
the first arrival, it was Arjuna who first caught my eye. So, even in this
respect, your claims on me are equal and I am therefore bound to render
assistance to both sides. In distributing favors, the traditional usage is to
begin with the junior-most among the recipients. I would, therefore, offer the
choice to Arjuna first. The Narayana, my tribesmen, are my equals in battle and
constitute a host, large and almost invincible. In my distribution of
assistance, they will be on one side, and I individually on the other. But I
shall wield no weapon and take no part in actual fighting."
Turning to Arjuna he
said, "Partha, think it over well. Would you want me, alone and
weaponless, or would you prefer the prowess of the Narayana? Exercise the right
to the first choice which custom gives you as the younger man."
Scarcely had Krishna
finished when Arjuna said with reverence and without hesitation: "I would
be content if you are with us, though you may wield no weapon."
Duryodhana could hardly
contain himself for joy at what he thought was Arjuna's imbecile choice. He
gladly chose the help of Vasudevas army and his request was granted. Pleased
with the acquisition of a mighty force, Duryodhana went to Baladeva and told
him the story.
As he finished
speaking, the mighty Balarama said: "Duryodhana, they must have told you
all I said at the time of the marriage of Virata's daughter. I pleaded your
case and urged everything that could be said for you. Often have I told Krishna
that we have equal ties with the Kauravas and the Pandavas. But my words failed
to carry conviction to him. I am helpless. It is impossible for me to side with
one whom Krishna opposes. I will not help Partha and I cannot support you
against Krishna. Duryodhana, you come of an illustrious line, which is
respected by all the princes of the land. Well, then, if it must be war, bear
yourself in accordance with the Kshatriya code," said he.
Duryodhana returned to
Hastinapura in high spirits saying to himself: "Arjuna has made a fool of
himself. The great army of Dwaraka will fight on my side and Balarama's good
wishes too are with me. Vasudeva has been left without an army."
"Dhananjaya, why
did you choose thus unwisely, preferring me alone and unarmed to my fully
equipped and heroic forces?" asked Krishna of Arjuna with a smile, when
they were alone. Arjuna answered:
"My ambition is to
achieve glory even like yours. You have the power and prowess to face all the
princes of the land and their hordes in battle single-handed. I too feel I can
do it. So, I desire that I should win the battle with you driving my chariot
unarmed. I have desired this for long and you have today fulfilled my
wish."
Vasudeva smiled again
and pronounced this benediction: "Are you trying to compete with me? May
you succeed," for he was pleased with Arjuna's decision. This is the
sacred story of how Krishna became Partha's charioteer.
SALYA, the ruler of
Madradesa, was the brother of Madri, the mother of Nakula and Sahadeva. He
heard that the Pandavas were camping in the city of Upaplavya and making
preparations for war.
He collected a very big
army and set off towards that city to join the Pandavas. Salya's army was so
large that where it halted for rest, the encampment extended over a length of
nearly fifteen miles.
News of Salya and his
marching forces reached Duryodhana. Deciding that Salya should somehow be
persuaded to join his side, Duryodhana instructed his officers to provide him
and his great army with all facilities and treat them to sumptuous hospitality.
In accordance with
Duryodhana's instruction, several beautifully decorated rest houses were
erected at several places on the route, at which Salya and his men were treated
to wondrous hospitality. Food and drink were lavishly provided.
Salya was exceedingly
pleased with the attentions paid to him but assumed that his nephew,
Yudhishthira, had arranged all this. Salya's army marched on, the earth shaking
beneath their heavy strides.
Feeling very pleased
with the hospitality, he called the waiting attendants one day and said to
them:
"I must reward you
all who have treated me and my soldiers with so much love and attention. Please
tell Kunti's son that he should let me do this, and bring me his consent."
The servants went and
told their master, Duryodhana, this. Duryodhana, who was all the time moving
unobserved with the party waiting on Salya and his soldiers, at once took this
opportunity to present himself before Salya, and say how honored he felt at
Salya's acceptance of the Kaurava hospitality.
This amazed Salya whom
till then had no suspicion of the truth, and he was also touched by the
chivalry of Duryodhana in lavishing kingly hospitality on a partisan of the
Pandavas.
Greatly moved, he
exclaimed, "How noble and kind of you! How can I repay you?"
Duryodhana replied:
"You and your forces should fight on my side. This is the reward I ask of
you."
Salya was stunned.
The Puranas wherein
right conduct is always preached, sometimes set out stories in which conduct,
not in conformity with Dharma, seems condoned. Is it right, one may ask, for
religious books thus to seem to justify wrong?
A little reflection
will enable one to see the matter in proper light. It is necessary to bring
home the fact that even wise, good and great men are liable to fall into error.
That is why the
Puranas, although ever seeking to instil Dharma, contain narratives to show how
in this world even good people sometimes sin against Dharma, as though
irresistibly driven to do so.
This is to press home
the truth that howsoever learned one may be, humility and constant vigilance
are absolutely necessary if one wishes to avoid evil.
Why indeed, did the
great authors of our epics write about the lapses of Rama in the Ramayana and
Yudhishthira in the Mahabharata?
Where was the need to make
mention of them and then labor arguments to explain them away, thereby
disturbing men's minds?
It was not as though
others had discovered the lapses and Vyasa and Valmiki had to defend their
heroes. The stories are artistic creations in which lapses they impress the
desired moral.
The parts dealing with
the lapses deeply distress the reader's mind and serve as solemn warnings of
pitfalls, which wait to engulf the careless.
They dispose the mind
to humility and watchfulness and make it realise the need for divine guidance.
The modern cinema also projects on the screen much that is bad and immoral.
Whatever may be the
explanation offered by the protagonists of the cinema, evil is presented on the
screen in an attractive fashion that grips people's minds and tempts them into
the path of wickedness.
This is not so in the
Puranas. Although they do point out that even great men now and again fell into
error and committed wrong, the presentation is such as to warn the reader and
not to allure him into evil ways.
This is the striking
difference between our epics and the modern talkies, which arises from the
difference in the character of the people who produced them.
"You are the same
unto us both. I must mean as much to you as the Pandavas. You must agree to
come to my aid," said Duryodhana.
Salya answered:
"Be it so." Flattered by Duryodhana's splendid reception, Salya
deserted the Pandavas who were entitled to his love and esteem and pledged his
word to fight on Duryodhana's side which shows what dangers may lurk in
receiving the hospitality of kings.
Feeling that it would
not be right to go back without meeting Yudhishthira, Salya then turned to
Duryodhana saying: "Duryodhana, believe me. I have given you my word of
honor. I must however meet Yudhishthira and tell him what I have done."
"Go, see him and
return soon. And do not forget your promise to me," said Duryodhana.
"Good luck to you.
Go back to your palace. I will not betray you." Saying this, Salya went to
the city of Upaplavya where Yudhishthira was camping.
The Pandavas received
the ruler of Madra with great eclat. Nakula and Sahadeva were joyous beyond
measure to see their uncle to whom the Pandavas narrated all their hardships
and sufferings.
When they started
talking about obtaining his help in the war that was impending, Salya related
to them the story of his promise to Duryodhana.
Yudhishthira saw at
once that it had been a mistake to take Salya's assistance for granted, thereby
letting Duryodhana forestall them.
Concealing his
disappointment as best he could, Yudhishthira addressed Salya thus:
"Great warrior,
you are bound to keep the promise you have made to, Duryodhana. You are the
equal of Vasudeva in battle and Karna will have you as his charioteer when he
seeks Arjuna's life in the battlefield. Are you going to be the cause of
Arjuna's death? Or are you going to save him then? I know I cannot fairly ask
this of you. Still I do."
To which Salya
rejoined: "My lad, I have been tricked into giving Duryodhana my word and
I shall be ranged against you in battle. But when Karna proceeds to attack
Arjuna, if I happen to be his charioteer, you may take it he will go to battle
disheartened and Arjuna shall be saved. Fear not. The sorrows and insults,
which were visited on Draupadi and you all, will soon be an avenged memory.
Henceforth, yours will be good luck. No one can prevent or alter what has been
ordained by fate. I have acted wrongly. Bear with me."
INDRA, the Lord of the
three regions, was once so drunk with pride that he quite forgot the courteous
manners and forms that the gods had hitherto observed.
When Brihaspati,
preceptor of the gods, foremost in all branches of learning, and venerated
alike by the gods and the asuras, came to his court, Indra did not rise from
his seat to receive the acharya or ask him to be seated and failed to do the
customary honors.
In his great conceit,
Indra persuaded himself to believe that the sastras allowed him as a king in
court the prerogative of receiving guests seated. Brihaspati was hurt by
Indra's discourtesy and, attributing it to the arrogance of prosperity,
silently left the assembly.
Without the high priest
of the gods, the court lost in splendor and dignity and became an unimpressive
gathering.
Indra
soon realized the foolishness of his conduct and, sensing trouble for himself
from the acharya's displeasure, he thought to make up with him by falling at
his feet and asking for forgiveness.
But this he could not
do, because Brihaspati had, in his anger, made himself invisible. This preyed
on Indra's mind.
With Brihaspati gone,
Indra's strength began to decline, while that of the asuras increased, which
encouraged the latter to attack the gods. Then Brahma, taking pity on the
beleaguered gods, advised them to take unto themselves a new acharya.
Said he to them:
"You have, through Indra's folly, lost Brihaspati. Go now to Twashta's son
Visvarupa and request that noble spirit to be your preceptor and all will be
well with you."
Heartened by these
words, the gods sought the youthful anchorite Visvarupa and made their request
to him saying: "Though young in years, you are well versed in the Vedas.
Do us the honor of being our teacher."
Visvarupa agreed, to
the great advantage of the gods for, as a result of his guidance and teaching,
they were saved from the tormenting asuras.
Visvarupa's, mother was
of the asura clan of daityas, which caused Indra to regard Visvarupa with
suspicion. He feared that because of his birth, Visvarupa might not be quite
loyal and his suspicion gradually deepened.
Apprehending danger to
himself from this descendent of the enemies of the gods, Indra sought to entice
him into error with the temptresses of his court and so weaken him spiritually.
But Visvarupa did not succumb.
The artful and
seductive blandishments of Indra's glamour girls had no effect on the young
ascetic. He held fast to his vow of celibacy. When Indra found that his plan of
seduction failed, he gave way to murderous thoughts and one day killed
Visvarupa with the Vajrayudha.
The story goes that the
world suffers vicariously for this great sin of Indra. And, as a result of it,
parts of the earth turned alkaline and became unsuitable for cultivation and
women came to be afflicted with the physical troubles and uncleanness peculiar
to them. The frothing of water is also attributed to this.
Twashta in his great
rage and grief at Indra's cruel killing of his son and, desirous of avenging
his death, performed a great sacrifice. And out of the sacrificial flames
sprang Indra's mortal enemy Vritra.
Twashta sent him
against the chief of the gods, saying: "Enemy of Indra, may you be strong
and may you kill Indra." A great battle raged between the two in which
Vritra was gaining the upper hand.
When the battle was
going against Indra, the rishis and the gods sought refuge in great Vishnu who
offered them protection and said to them: "Be not afraid. I shall enter
Indra's Vajrayudha and he will win the battle in the end." And they
returned in good heart.
They went to Vritra and
said to him: "Please make friends with Indra. You are both equal in
strength and valor."
Vritra respectfully
answered: "O blameless ones, how can Indra, and I become friends? Forgive
me. There cannot be friendship between rivals for supremacy. Two great powers
cannot coexist as you know."
The rishis said in
reply: "Do not entertain such doubts. Two good souls can be friends and
their friendship is often after hostility."
Vritra yielded saying:
"Well, then, I shall cease fighting. But I have no faith in Indra. He
might take me unawares. So I seek this boon of you, namely, that neither by day
nor by night, neither with dry weapons nor with wet ones, neither with stone
nor with wood, nor with metals, nor with arrows shall Indra be able to take my
life."
"So be it,"
said the rishis and the gods.
Hostilities ceased. But
soon Vritra's fears were confirmed. Indra only feigned friendship for Vritra
but was, all the time, waiting for a suitable opportunity to slay him.
One evening, he met
Vritra on the beach and began to attack him in the twilight. The battle had
raged for a long while when Vritra praising the Lord Vishnu, said to Indra:
"Meanest of the mean, why do you not use the unfailing Vajrayudha?
Hallowed by Hari, use it against me and I shall attain blessedness through
Hari."
Indra maimed Vritra by
chopping off his right arm but, undaunted, the latter hurled with his left
band, his iron mace at his assailant who thereupon cut down his other arm also.
When Indra disappeared into the mouth of Vritra, great was the consternation of
the gods.
But Indra was not dead.
He ripped Vritra's belly open and issuing forth went to the nearby beach. And
directing his thunderbolt at the water hurled it so that the surf flew and hit
Vritra. Vishnu having entered the foam, it became a deadly weapon and the mighty
Vritra lay dead. The long battle thus ended and the afflicted world heaved a
sigh of relief. But to Indra himself, the end of the war brought only ignominy
because his victory was secured through sin and deceit and is went into hiding
for sheer shame.
Indra's disappearance
caused the gods and the rishis great distress. For a people without a king or a
council of state to govern them cannot prosper. So they went to the good and
mighty king Nahusha and offered him the crown.
"Forgive me, I
cannot be your king. Who am I to aspire to the seat of Indra? How can I protect
you? It is impossible," he humbly objected. But they insisted, saying:
"Do not hesitate. Be anointed our king. All the merit and potency of our
penance will be yours and be an addition to your strength. The power and the
energy of everyone you set your eyes on shall be transferred to you and you
will be invincible." Thus over-powered, he agreed. Revolution is no new
thing. This story shows that, even in the world of the gods, there was a revolution
leading to Indra's dethronement and Nahusha's installation as king in his
stead. The story of Nahusha's fall is also instructive.
THE sin of the
unrighteous slaughter of Vritra pulled Indra down from his high estate and made
him a fugitive. Nahusha became the king of the gods in his stead. Nahusha
started well, assisted by the merit and the fame earned by him while he was a
king on earth. Thereafter, he fell on evil days.
The assumption of the
kingship of the gods filled him with arrogance, He lost his humility and became
filled with lawless desires.
Nahusha indulged freely
in the pleasures of heaven and gave him up to untamed and lecherous thoughts.
One day, he saw Indra's wife and became enamored of her. Possessed by evil
thoughts, he spoke in tones of command to the assembled gods:
"Why has not
Sachidevi, the wife of the king of the gods, come to me? Am I not the king of
the gods now? Send her to my house soon."
When she learnt this,
Indra's wife was indignant. In fear and distress, she went to Brihaspati and
cried out: "Preceptor, save me from this wicked person."
Brihaspati offered her
protection. "Fear not " he said, "Indra will soon be back. Stay
here with me. You will regain your husband." When Nahusha learnt that
Sachidevi did not agree to fall in with his wishes and that she sought and
obtained shelter under Brihaspati's roof, he became exceedingly angry.
The king's displeasure
frightened the gods. They protested: "King of the gods, be not angry. Your
anger will make the world sad. Sachidevi is another's wife, do not covet her.
Do not swerve from the path of righteousness."
But, the infatuated
Nahusha would not listen to them. Tauntingly, he said to them: "When Indra
lusted for Ahalya, where were your principles of righteousness and good
conduct? Why did you not prevent him then and why do you stop me now? What did
you do when he so shamelessly murdered Visvarupa when the latter was in penance
and where was your virtuous horror when he killed Vritra through deceit?
Sachidevi's only course is to come and live with me and it will be for your
good to get her reconciled to my proposal and leave her in my charge. So, now
set about it," ordered Nahusha.
The affrighted gods
decided to talk the matter over with Brihaspati and somehow contrive to bring
Sachidevi to Nahusha. They all went to Brihaspati and related to him what
Nahusha had said and pleaded that Sachidevi should submit to Nahusha’s desires.
At which, the chaste
Sachidevi shook with shame and fear and cried out: "My God! I cannot do
it. I sought refuge in you. Oh brahmana, do protect me."
Brihaspati consoled her
and said: "He, who betrays one who has sought refuge, will meet with
destruction. The very earth will not let the seed, that he sows, sprout. I will
not give you up. Nahusha's end is approaching. Be not afraid."
He indicated a way of
escape from her difficult situation by hinting that she should pray for time,
and the shrewd Sachidevi took the hint and bravely went to Nahusha's palace.
As soon as Nahusha saw
her, pride and lust having deprived him of his senses, he was beside himself
with joy and said: "O fair one, do not tremble. I am the lord of the three
regions. There can be no sin in your becoming my wife."
Hearing the wicked
man's words, the virtuous Indrani, Indra's wife, trembled for a moment. Soon
regaining composure she replied: "King of the gods, before I become yours,
I have a request to make. Is Indra alive or is he dead? If he is alive, where
is he? If, after making enquiries and searching for him, I do not find him,
then no sin will attach to me and I could become your wife with a clear
conscience."
Nahusha said:
"What you say is right. Go and search for him and be sure to return.
Remember the plighted word." Saying this, he sent her back to Brihaspati's
house.
The gods went to the
great Vishnu and complained to him of Nahusha. They said: "Lord, it was
your might that killed Vritra but Indra bears, the sin of it, and ashamed and
afraid to show himself in his unclean state, he has hidden himself.
Pray indicate a way of
deliverance for him." Narayana said in reply: "Let him worship me. He
will be cleansed of sin and the evil-minded Nahusha will meet with
destruction."
Sachidevi prayed to the
goddess of chastity, and, by her grace, reached where Indra was in hiding.
Indra had reduced himself to the size of an atom and hid himself in a fibre of
the stem of a lotus plant growing in Manasarovara. He was doing penance in that
state waiting for better days. Sachidevi could not contain herself for sorrow
at her husband's plight and burst into tears. She acquainted him with her
troubles.
Indra spoke words of
courage to her. "Nahusha's end is drawing near," he said. "Go to
him by yourself and tell him that you consent to his proposal. Ask him to come
to your residence in a palanquin carried by ascetics. Then Nahusha will be
destroyed."
Sachidevi went and
pretended to agree to Nahusha's proposal as Indra had asked her to do. Overjoyed
that she had returned to him in this complaisant mood, the foolish Nahusha
burst out: "Blessed one, I am your slave and ready to do you’re every
bidding. You have been true to your word."
"Yes, I have come
back. You will be my husband. I want you to do something, which I very much
desire. Are you not the lord of the world? It is my wish that you should come
majestically to my house in a grander style than the great Vishnu or Rudra or
the asuras. Let the palanquin be borne by the seven rishis. I shall then be
glad and receive you and bid you welcome," she said.
Nahusha fell into the
trap. "What a grand idea! Your imagination is wonderful. It pleases me
exceedingly. It is but proper that the great rishis should carry me, who am
blessed with the powers of absorbing the energy of those on whom my eyes fall.
I shall do exactly as you have wished,"said he, and sent her back home.
The infatuated Nahusha called the rishis and bade them carry him on their
shoulders.
At this sacrilege, the
three worlds were aghast and trembled. But worse was to come as the palanquin
was carried along. Inflamed with thoughts of the beautiful Sachidevi waiting
for him, Nahusha was impatient to reach her soon. So he began goading the
rishi-bearers of his palanquin to go faster. And he went so far in his mad
wickedness as to kick Agastya, one of the bearers, saying "sarpa,
sarpa." (Sarpa means to move and also a serpent.) The insanity of lust and
arrogance had reached its culmination. Nahusha's cup of iniquity was full.
"Meanest of the
mean, do thou fall from heaven and become a sarpa on earth," cursed the
rishi in his wrath. Immediately Nahusha fell headlong, down from heaven, and
became a python in the jungle and had to wait for several thousand years for
his deliverance. Indra was restored to his state. He became the king of the
gods and Sachidevi's grief ended.
Relating this story of
the sufferings of Indra and his wife to Yudhishthira and Draupadi at Upaplavya,
their uncle Salya tried to comfort them.
"Victory awaits
the patient. Those, whom prosperity makes arrogant, meet with destruction. You,
your brothers and Draupadi have gone through untold sufferings like Indra and
his wife. Your trials will soon be over and you will regain your kingdom. The
evil-minded Karna and Duryodhana will be destroyed even as Nahusha was,"
said Salya.
THE Pandavas were
camping at Upaplavya in Virata's territory. From there, they sent emissaries to
all friendly rulers. Contingents arrived from all parts of the country and
soon, the Pandavas had a mighty force of seven divisions. The Kauravas did
likewise and collected an army of eleven divisions.
Then, as now, a
division was made up of all arms grouped together in accordance with
established military practice. In those days, a division consisted of 21,870
chariots, an equal number of elephants, thrice as many horses and five times as
many foot soldiers, and they were provided with weapons of all kinds and other
war equipment.
Chariots were the
"armored cars" of ancient warfare and elephants, specially trained
for war, corresponded to the " tanks" of modern times.
Drupada's brahmana
messenger reached Dhritarashtra's court. After the usual ceremonial
introduction and enquiries were over, the messenger addressed the assembled
gathering on behalf of the Pandavas:
"Law is eternal
and of inherent validity. You know this and I need not point it out to you.
Dhritarashtra and Pandu are both Vichitravirya's sons and are, according to our
usages, equally entitled to their father's property. In spite of this,
Dhritarashtra's sons have taken possession of the whole kingdom, while Pandu's
sons are without their share of the common inheritance. There can be no
justification for this. Scions of the Kuru dynasty, the Pandavas desire peace.
They are prepared to forget the sufferings they have undergone and to let
bygones be bygones. They are unwilling to resort to war, because they fully
know that war never brings any good but only destruction. Render unto them,
therefore, the things that are due to them. This would be in accordance both
with justice and with the agreement previously reached. Let there be no
delay."
After this appeal of
the messenger, the wise and brave Bhishma spoke. "By the grace of
God," he said, "the Pandavas are safe and well. Although they have
obtained the support of many princes and are strong enough for battle, they are
not bent on war. They still seek peace. To restore to them their property is
the only right thing to do."
Bhishma had not
finished when Karna angrily broke in and, turning to the messenger, exclaimed:
"O brahmana, is there anything new in what you have said? What tortures it
to tell the same old story? How can Yudhishthira claim the property that he
lost at the game board? If, now, Yudhishthira wants anything, he must beg for
it as a gift! He arrogantly prefers this absurd claim in fond reliance on the
strength of his allies, particularly Matsya and Panchala. Let me tell you
clearly that nothing can be got out of Duryodhana by threats. As the plighted
word, that the Pandavas should live undiscovered during the thirteenth year,
has been broken, they must once again go back to the forest for another twelve
years and return thereafter."
Bhishma interposed:
"Son of Radha, you speak foolishly. If we do not do as this messenger
tells us, war will be upon us in which we are certain to be defeated. And
Duryodhana and all of us are doomed to destruction." The disorder and
excitement in the assembly made Dhritarashtra intervene.
He said to the
messenger: "Having in mind the good of the world and considering the
Pandava's welfare, I have decided to send Sanjaya to them. Please return at
once and tell Yudhishthira this."
Then Dhritarashtra
called Sanjaya aside and instructed him thus: "Sanjaya, go to the sons of
Pandu and convey to them my affectionate regards and my kind inquiries about
Krishna, Satyaki and Virata. Give all the princes assembled there my regards.
Go there on my behalf and speak conciliatingly so as to secure the avoidance of
war."
Sanjaya went to
Yudhishthira on this mission of peace. After the introductory salutations,
Sanjaya thus addressed Yudhishthira in the midst of his court:
"Dharmaputra, it is my good fortune to be able to see you again with my
eyes. Surrounded by princes, you present the picture of Indra himself. The
sight gladdens my heart. King Dhritarashtra sends you his best wishes and
desires to know that you are well and happy. The son of Ambika (Dhritarashtra)
detests all talk of war. He desires your friendship and yearns for peace."
When Dharmaputra heard
Sanjaya say this, he felt glad and answered: "If so, Dhritarashtra's sons
have been saved, nay, we have all escaped a great tragedy. I, too, desire only
peace and hate war. If our kingdom is returned to us, we will wipe out all
memories of the sufferings we have undergone."
Sanjaya spoke again:
"Dhritarashtra's sons are perverse. Disregarding their father's advice and
their grandsire's wise words, they are still as wicked as ever. But you should
not lose patience. Yudhishthira, you stand ever for right conduct. Let us
eschew the great evil of war. Can happiness be gained with possessions obtained
through war? What good can we reap from a kingdom won after killing our own
relatives? Do not therefore commence hostilities. Even if one were to gain the
whole earth bounded by the ocean, old age and death are inescapable. Duryodhana
and his brothers are fools. But that is no reason why you should swerve from
rectitude or lose patience. Even if they do not give back your kingdom, you
should not abandon the supreme path of dharma."
Yudhishthira
answered: "Sanjaya, what you say is true. Rectitude is the best of
possessions, but are we committing wrong? Krishna knows the intricacies of
rectitude and dharma. He wishes both sides well. I shall do as Vasudeva
orders."
Krishna said: "I
desire the welfare of the Pandavas. I desire also that Dhritarashtra and his
sons should be happy. This is a difficult matter. I think I can settle this
issue by myself going to Hastinapura. If I could obtain peace from the Kauravas
on terms that do not conflict with the welfare of all, nothing would make me
and the Pandavas happier. If I succeed in doing so, the Kauravas will have been
rescued from the jaws of death. I shall also have achieved something good and
worthwhile. Even if, through a peaceful settlement, the Pandavas get back what
is due to them, they will still serve Dhritarashtra loyally. They desire
nothing else. But they are also prepared for war if need be. Of these two
alternatives, peace and war, Dhritarashtra can choose what he pleases."
And Yudhishthira said
to Sanjaya: "Sanjaya, go back to the Kaurava, court and tell the son of
Ambika this from me: 'Was it not through your generosity that we obtained a
share of the kingdom when we were young? You, who made me a king once, should
not deny us our share now and drive us to make a beggar's living on the charity
of others. Dear uncle, there is enough room in the world for both of us and the
Kauravas. Let there be no antagonism, therefore, between us.' Thus should you request
Dhritarashtra on my behalf. Give the grandsire my love and regards and ask him
to devise some way of ensuring that his grandchildren live happily in amity.
Convey the same message to Vidura also. Vidura is the person who can best see
what is good for all of us and advise accordingly. Explain matters to
Duryodhana and tell him on my behalf: 'My dear brother, you made us, who were
princes of the realm, live in the forest, clad in skins. You insulted and
harassed our weeping wife in the assembly of princes. We bore all this
patiently. Give us back, at least now, what is lawfully ours. Do not covet what
belongs to others. We are five. For the five of us give at least five villages
and make peace with us. We shall be content. Say thus to Duryodhana, Sanjaya. I
am prepared and ready for peace as well as for war."
After Yudhishthira had
said these words, Sanjaya took leave of Kesava and the Pandavas, and went back
to Hastinapura.
55. Not a Needle-Point Of Territory
AFTER he had despatched
Sanjaya to the Pandavas, Dhritarashtra, filled with anxiety, could not get a
wink of sleep that night. He sent for Vidura and spent the whole night talking
to him.
"To give the
Pandavas their share of the kingdom is the safest plan," said Vidura.
"Only this can bring good to both sides. Treat the Pandavas and your own
sons with equal affection. In this case, the right course is also the wise
one."
Vidura counselled
Dhritarashtra in this manner at great length.
The next morning
Sanjaya returned to Hastinapura. And gave a full account of what had taken
place in Yudhishthira's court.
"Chiefly,
Duryodhana should know what Arjuna said: 'Krishna and I are going to destroy
Duryodhana and his followers, root and branch. Make no mistake about it. The
Gandiva bow is impatient for war. My bowstring is throbbing even without my
stretching it and from my quiver, arrows keep peeping out impatiently,
demanding when? When? Sanjaya, evil stars make the foolish Duryodhana seek war
with Krishna and myself. Not even Indra and the gods can defeat us.' Thus spoke
Dhananjaya," said Sanjaya.
Bhishma counselled
Dhritarashtra against opposing the combined might of Arjuna and Krishna.
"Karna, who boasts repeatedly that he will slay the Pandavas", said
Bhishma, "is not equal to a sixteenth part of the Pandavas. Your sons are
heading for destruction, listening to his words. When Arjuna beat back your
son's attack on Virata's capital and humbled his pride, what was Karna able to
do? When the Gandharvas took your son prisoner, where did the invincible Karna
bide himself? Was it not Arjuna who drove back the Gandharvas?" Thus did
Bhisma taunt Karna and warn the Kauravas.
"What grandfather
Bhisma says is the only proper thing to do," said Dhritarashtra. "All
wise men say, and I know, that it is best to seek peace. But what can I do?
These fools would go their own way, however loudly I protest."
Duryodhana, who had
been listening to all this, stood up. "Father, do not worry and tremble
about our safety. We know how strong we are. That we shall win is certain. Yudhishthira
knows it too, for, giving up all hope of kingdom, he only begs now for five
villages. Is it not clear from this that he is already scared about our eleven
divisions? What can the Pandavas oppose to our eleven divisions? Why then do
you doubt our victory?" Duryodhana said to his father and tried to cheer
him up.
"My son, let us
not have war," said Dhritarashtra. "Be satisfied with half the
kingdom. It is enough if we govern that half well." Duryodhana could stand
it no longer. "The Pandavas will not receive even a needle-point of
territory," he exclaimed, and left the court. In the excitement that
prevailed, the court broke up.
Let us now relate what
the Pandavas were saying among themselves. After Sanjaya left Upaplavya for
Hastinapura, Yudhishthira said to Krishna: "Vasudeva, Sanjaya is
Dhritarashtra's alter ego. From his speech, I have divined what is in
Dhritarashtra's mind. Dhritarashtra is trying to secure peace without giving us
any territory. In my simplicity, I was glad at first when I heard Sanjaya
speak. But it soon became clear that my joy was unfounded. He then struck a
middle line and spoke desiring peace. But the words with which he ended his
message seemed to commend meekness to us, even if our just rights were denied.
Dhritarashtra has not been playing fair with us. The crisis is approaching.
There are none but you to protect us. I made my offer that we would be content
with only five villages. The wicked Kauravas will refuse even this. How can we
tolerate this height of intransigence? Only you can advise us in this crisis.
There is none but you who knows what our duty is now and can guide us in dharma
as well as in statesmanship."
Krishna said in reply:
"For the good of you both, I have decided to go to Hastinapura. I shall go
to Dhritarashtra's court and try to secure your rights without war. If my
mission succeeds, it will be for the good of the world."
Yudhishthira said:
"Krishna, pray do not go. What is the good of your going to the enemies'
place now? The perverse Duryodhana will stick to his folly. I do not like your
going among those unscrupulous men. We cannot let you jeopardise your safety, for
the Kauravas will stop at nothing."
Krishna answered:
"Dharmaputra, I know how wicked Duryodhana is. But still we should make
all attempts at a peaceful solution so as to give the world no cause to accuse
us of not having done everything possible to avert war. We must omit nothing,
no matter how slender our hopes of success. Have no fears for my safety, for,
if the Kauravas offer me, a messenger of peace, any threat of bodily harm, I
will reduce them to ashes."
Said Yudhishthira:
"You are all-knowing. You know our hearts as well as theirs. In expounding
matters and in the art of persuasion, there is none better than you."
Krishna said:
"Yes, I know you both. Your mind ever clings to righteousness and theirs
is always steeped in hatred, jealousy and enmity. I will do all I can to secure
the result, which I know is dear to you, a settlement reached without war even
though it may have, but little for you. The signs are ominous and portend war.
Still duty demands that we should make the attempt for peace."
Thus saying, Krishna
took leave of the Pandavas and set off in his chariot to Hastinapura.
SATYAKI accompanied
Govinda (Krishna) to Hastinapura. Before setting out on his journey, Krishna
had a lone discussion with the Pandavas. Even the mighty Bhima, rather
surprisingly, supported a peaceful settlement.
"Let not the race
be destroyed. Peace is very much to be preferred," said he. The poet Vyasa
makes Bhima speak thus in order to show that truly great warriors desire peace,
and that to seek peace is not a sign of fear.
But Draupadi could not
forget her humiliation. Holding her locks in her hand she stood before Krishna,
and in a voice quivering with grief, she said: "Madhusudana, look at these
tresses of mine and do what honor requires to be done. There can be no peace
with honor. Even if Arjuna and Bhima are against war, my father, old though he
is, will go to battle, supported by my children. Even if my father can keep
out, my children, with Subhadra's son Abhimanyu, at their head, will fight the
Kauravas. I have, for the sake of Dharmaputra, these thirteen years, suppressed
the burning flame of anger within me. I can restrain myself no longer."
And she sobbed, remembering the great outrage.
Krishna was moved and
said: "Weep not. Dhritarashtra's sons will not listen to my words of
peace. They are going to fall and their bodies
will be food for wild dogs and jackals. You will live to see us victorious and
the insult to you will be fully avenged, and that too, soon." Draupadi was
satisfied.
Madhava (Krishna)
halted for the night near the city of Kucasthala. When news of Krishna's
forthcoming visit came, the city was in great excitement.
Dhritarashtra issued
orders for decorating the city and arrangements for receiving Janardana
(Krishna) were in full swing. Dhritarashtra issued instructions that
Duhsasana's palace, being bigger and more beautiful than Duryodhana's, should
be got ready and placed at the disposal of Krishna and his entourage and large
tents were erected at several places outside the city, along the route which
Krishna's chariot was to take.
Dhritarashtra consulted
Vidura. He said to him: "Make arrangements for presenting Govinda with
chariots and elephants. Presents of other kinds should also be got ready."
But Vidura said:
"Govinda cannot be
bought with presents. Give him that for which he is coming to the land of the
Kurus. Does he not come here seeking a peaceful settlement? Make that possible.
You cannot satisfy Madhava with other gifts."
When Govinda reached
Hastinapura, the citizens had thronged in such numbers in the decorated streets
that his chariot could only progress very slowly. He went first to
Dhritarashtra's palace and then proceeded to Vidura's house. Kuntidevi met him
there.
Thinking of the
sufferings of her sons and overpowered by grief, she wept. Krishna comforted
her and, taking leave of her, made for Duryodhana's palace.
Duryodhana gave Govinda
welcome and invited him to dinner, but Krishna said with a smile:
"Emissaries eat only after their mission is fulfilled. You may give a
feast when my work here is completed."
Declining Duryodhana's
invitation, he returned to Vidura's house where he rested.
Vidura and Krishna took
counsel together. Vidura told him that Duryodhana's arrogance was based on his
confidence that no one could defeat him as long as Bhishma and Drona, who, he
knew, were under a moral obligation not to abandon him, stood by him.
Vidura said that it
would be a mistake for Govinda even to enter the wicked man's court. All, who
knew Duryodhana and his brothers, apprehended that they would plot, through
fraud and deceit, against Krishna's life.
"What you say
about Duryodhana is true. I have not come here with any hope that I would be
able to secure a peaceful settlement, but only in order that the world might
not hold me to blame. Have no fear for my life," said Krishna.
The next morning,
Duryodhana and Sakuni came to Krishna and informed him that Dhritarashtra was
waiting for him. Govinda went to the court along with Vidura.
As Vasudeva came into
the court, that great assemblage of kings stood up. Saluting the elders with
folded hands and with a word or a smile for the others, Krishna took his seat.
The introductions over, Govinda rose from his seat and, turning to
Dhritarashtra explained the object of his visit. He made clear what the
Pandavas wanted.
"Dhritarashtra, do
not bring ruin to your people. You regard as bad what is good for you and as
good what is bad. It is your duty to restrain your sons. The Pandavas are
prepared for war but they desire peace. They wish to live in happiness under
you. Treat them also as your sons and devise an honorable solution, and the
world will acclaim you," said Krishna.
Dhritarashtra said:
"My friends know that I am not to blame. I desire precisely what Madhava
has stated but I am powerless. My wicked sons do not listen to me. Krishna, I
entreat you to advise Duryodhana."
Krishna turned to
Duryodhana and said: "You are the descendant of a noble line. Pursue the
path of dharma. Your present thoughts are unworthy and befit only men of low
birth. On account of you, this famous line is in danger of being destroyed. If
you listen to reason and justice, the Pandavas themselves will install
Dhritarashtra as king and you as the heir apparent. Make peace with them by
giving them half the kingdom."
Bhishma and Drona also
pressed Duryodhana to listen to Govinda. But Duryodhana's heart could not be
softened. "I pity Dhritarashtra and Gandhari whom Duryodhana is dooming to
bereavement and desolation by his misdeeds," said Vidura.
Dhritarashtra once
again said to his son: "If you do not listen to Govinda's advice, our race
will perish."
Drona and Bhishma also
tried repeatedly to persuade Duryodhana and turn him from error. Duryodhana was
furious with everyone for pressing him in this matter to agree to a peaceful
solution. He rose, and said:
"Madhusudana, you
wrong me out of love for the Pandavas. The others here also blame me, but I do
not think I am one whit to blame in
this matter. The Pandavas, of their own
volition, staked their kingdom at play and, being defeated, justly forfeited
it. How am I responsible for it? Losing the game, they went to the forests as
in honor bound. For what fault of mine do they now seek battle and wish to slay
us? I will not yield to threats. When I was young, the elders did us grievous
wrong by giving the Pandavas, I do not know why, a part of the kingdom to which
they had not a shadow of a right. I acquiesced then but they lost it at play. I
refuse to return it to them. I am utterly blameless. I will not give the
Pandavas an inch of land, not even a needle-point of it!"
When Duryodhana said
that he had not committed wrong, Govinda laughed and said: "The play was
fraudulently arranged by you in conspiracy with Sakuni and you afterwards
insulted Draupadi in an assembly of princes. And yet, you have the impudence to
say that you have committed no wrong," and reminded him of the other
iniquities he had perpetrated against the Pandavas.
Duhsasana seeing that
Bhishma and others were accepting Krishna's indictment of Duryodhana said:
"Brother, it seems that these people have a plot to bind you with ropes
and hand you over to the Pandavas. Let us get away from here," and
Duryodhana, accompanied by his brothers, walked out of the court.
Govinda addressed the
court again and said: "Sires, the Yadavas and Vrishnis live happily, now
that Kamsa and Sisupala are dead. In order to save a whole people, it is some
times necessary to sacrifice an individual. Does it not happen occasionally
that a village is abandoned in order that the country may be saved? I am afraid
you will have to sacrifice Duryodhana if you want to save your race. That is
the only way."
Dhritarashtra said to
Vidura: "Bring far-sighted Gandhari here. It is possible that Duryodhana
might listen to her." Gandhari was sent for and, when she came to the
court, Duryodhana was sent for.
Duryodhana, his eyes
red with anger, returned and Gandhari tried by all the means in her power to
bring him round to reason. Duryodhana said 'No' and again walked out of the
hall.
He and his friends had
plotted to seize Krishna. News of this reached the court. Govinda, who had
anticipated all this, laughed and disclosed his divinity.
The blind
Dhritarashtra, by the grace of Krishna, temporarily regained his sight and was
able to see Krishna in his Visvarupa presence in every form.
"Pundarikaksha,
(lotus-eyed Krishna) having seen your Visvarupa, I do not wish to see anything
else. I ask that I should be blind again," said Dhritarashtra, and he
became blind again. "All our efforts have failed. Duryodhana is
obstinate," said Dhritarashtra to Govinda.
And Krishna rose and,
with Satyaki and Vidura on either side of him, left the court.
He went straight to
Kunti. He told her what had happened and she asked him to convey her blessings
to her sons.
"The
time has come," said she, "for that for which a kshatriya woman
brings forth sons. May you protect my sons!"
A kshatriya mother
brings forth children to be sacrificed in war. Purushottamat (Krishna as
Supreme Being) got into his chariot and sped towards Upaplavya. War became a
certainty.
ANY ray of hope there
might have been of a peaceful settlement when Krishna went to Hastinapura was
extinguished when he returned and narrated what happened. Kunti was overwhelmed
with grief when she learnt that it was to be war to the death.
"How can I" reflected
Kunti, "give my thoughts tongue and say to my sons, 'Bear the insults. Let
us not ask for any territory and let us avoid war'? How can my sons accept what
is contrary to kshatriya tradition?"
"At the same
time," she thought, "what can be gained by mutual killings in the war
and what happiness attained after the destruction of the race? How shall I face
this dilemma?" Thus was she tormented by the prospect of wholesale
destruction on the one hand and the claims of kshatriya honor on the other.
"How can my sons
defeat the mighty three combined, Bhishma, Drona and Karna? They are warriors
who have never yet met defeat. When I think of them, my mind trembles. I do not
worry about the others. These three are the only people in the Kaurava army
capable of fighting the Pandavas with any hope of slaying them. Of these,
Dronacharya might refrain from killing my children from either love or
unwillingness to meet one's own disciples in battle. The grandsire will
certainly not want to kill them. But Karna is the Pandavas' chief enemy. He is
anxious to please Duryodhana by killing my sons. Karna is a great man-at-arms.
As I think of him engaged in battle against my other sons, my heart is consumed
with agony like a faggot in the fire. Now is the time for me, to seek Karna out
and tell him the truth about his birth, on knowing which, he is bound to
abandon Duryodhana's cause."
Tormented by these
anxious thoughts about her children. Kunti went to the banks of the Ganga where
Karna usually offered his daily prayers.
Karna was there at his
devotions. Facing east and with uplifted hands he was in deep meditations.
Kunti quietly stood behind him and waited.
Karna was in meditation
and was unmindful of everything until he felt the hot rays of the sun on his
back.
His prayers over, Karna
looked back to find Kunti standing behind him and holding the hem of his upper
garment over her head to shield it from the burning sun.
That Pandu's queen and
the mother of the Pandava princes should be there, waiting patiently for him to
finish his prayers, filled him with great confusion and amazement.
"The son of Radha
and the chariot-driver Adhiratha bows to you. I am at your service. What can I
do for you, O queen?" asked Karna, according to the established forms of
respectful address.
"Karna," said
Kuntidevi, "you are not Radha's son, nor is the charioteer your father. Do
not think that you are a man of the chariot-driver's caste. You are Surya's son
born out of the womb of Pritha of royal blood, otherwise known as Kunti. May
good fortune attend you"!
She then narrated the
story of his birth. "You who were born with full armor and golden
earrings," said Kunti, "not knowing that the Pandavas are your
brothers, have joined Duryodhana and have come to hate them. To live in
dependence on Dhritarashtra's sons, does not befit you. Join Arjuna and be one
of the kings of the realm. May you and Arjuna put down the wicked! The whole
world will be at your feet. Your fame will reach far and wide, like that of the
brothers Balarama and Krishna. Surrounded by your five brothers, your
effulgence will be like that of Brahma among the gods. In perplexing
situations, one must do what gives satisfaction to loving parents. This is the
highest dharma according to our scriptures."
When his mother spoke
thus to him at the end of his devotions to the sun, Karna felt a sign in his
heart that the Sun god endorsed Kunti's request. But he checked himself and
took it to mean that the Sun god was testing his loyalty and strength of mind.
He should not be found wanting.
With an effort of the
will, he controlled alike the temptations of self-interest and the prompting of
natural affection. He said sadly but firmly: "What you have said, dear
mother, is contrary to dharma. If I swerve from the path of duty, I shall have
done myself much more hurt than any that an enemy might inflict on me in the
battlefield. You deprived me of all that was my birthright as a kshatriya when
you threw me, a helpless babe, into the river. And now, you talk to me of my
duties as a kshatriya. You denied me the motherly love, which blesses all life.
And now, thinking of your other children's good, you tell me this story. If I
now join the Pandavas, will not the world proclaim that I have done so out of
fear? I have eaten the salt of Dhritarashtra's sons, won their confidence as
their champion and enjoyed all the consideration and kindness they showed me.
And now you want me, when the battle is about to be joined, to be untrue to my
salt and go over to the Pandavas. The sons of Dhritarashtra look on me as the
ark, which will enable them to cross the deluge of war. I have myself urged
them into this war. How can I now desert them? Could there be blacker treachery
and baser ingratitude? What in life, or beyond it, would be worth a price like
that? Mother dear, I must discharge my debt, aye, with life, if necessary;
otherwise, I shall be no better than a common thief purloining my food all
these years. I shall surely use all my followers against your sons in this
coming war. I cannot deceive you. Please forgive me."
"But yet,"
continued he, "I cannot have my mother plead completely in vain. Part with Arjuna to me. Either he or myself
must die in this war. I will not kill your other sons, whatever they may do
unto me. Mother of warrior sons, you will still have five sons. Either I or
Arjuna will survive this war. And with the other four sons, you will still have
five".
When Kunti heard her
first-born speak thus firmly, adhering to the kshatriya code, her heart was
full of tumultuous and contrary feelings and, without trusting herself to
speak. She embraced him and departed in silence.
"Who can go
against what has been ordained?" she thought. "He has, at least,
offered not to harm four of my sons. That is enough. May God bless him,"
and she returned home.
GOVINDA reached
Upaplavya and told the Pandavas what had happened in Hastinapura.
"I spoke urging
what was right and what was also good for them. But, it was all in vain. There
is now no way out except the fourth, that is, the last alternative of war. The
foolish Duryodhana would not listen to the advice tendered to him by the elders
in the assembly. We must now prepare for war without delay. Kurukshetra is
waiting for the holocaust."
"There is no
longer any hope of peace," said Yudhishthira, addressing his brothers, and
issued orders for marshalling their forces in, battle array.
They formed the army in
seven divisions and appointed Drupada, Virata, Dhrishtadyumna, Sikhandin,
Satyaki, Chekitana and Bhimasena at the head of each division. They then
considered who should be appointed Generalissimo.
Addressing Sahadeva,
Yudhishthira said: "We should select one of these seven to be Supreme
Commander. He should be one capable of successfully facing the great Bhishma,
who can burn enemies to ashes. He should be one who knows how to dispose his
forces as circumstances require from time to time. Who do you think is most
fitted for this responsibility?"
In the olden days, it
was the practice to ascertain the views of younger people first, before
consulting elders. This instilled enthusiasm and self-confidence in the younger
folk. If the elders were consulted first, it would not be possible for others
to speak with freedom, and even honest differences of opinion might savor of
disrespect.
"Let us take as
our Supreme Commander the king of Virata who helped us when we lived in
disguise and with whose support we now demand our share of the kingdom,"
replied Sahadeva.
"It seems to me
best to make Drupada the Generalissimo, for, in point of age, wisdom, courage,
birth and strength, he is supreme," said Nakula.
"Drupada, the
father of Draupadi, has learnt archery from Bharadwaja, and has for long been
waiting for an encounter with Drona. He is much respected by all kings, and is
supporting us, as if we were his own sons. He should lead our army against
Drona and Bhishma."
Dharmaputra then asked
Dhananjaya for his opinion. "I think, Dhrishtadyumna should be our chief
in the battlefield. The hero who has his senses under control and who has been
born to bring about Drona's end. Dhrishtadyumna alone can withstand the arrows
of Bhishma whose skill in archery made even the great Parasurama hold back. He
is the only man fitted to be our commander. I can think of no one else,"
replied Arjuna.
Bhimasena said: "O
king, what Arjuna says is true, but the rishis and elders have said that
Sikhandin has come into the world to kill Bhishma. My inclination would be to
give the command to Sikhandin whose radiant face is like that of Parasurama. I
do not think any one else can defeat Bhishma."
Yudhishthira finally
asked Kesava for his opinion. "The warriors mentioned are, each one of
them, worthy of selection," said Krishna. "Any one of them would fill
the Kauravas with fear. All things considered, I would endorse Arjuna's choice.
Anoint Dhrishtadyumna, therefore, as your Supreme Commander."
Accordingly,
Dhrishtadyumna, Drupada's illustrious son, who led Draupadi at the swayamvara
and gave her away to Arjuna, who for thirteen long years was brooding over the
insult that his sister had to suffer in Duryodhana's court, and who was waiting
for an opportunity to avenge the wrong, was anointed Supreme Commander of the
Pandava army.
The lion-roar of
warriors, the blowing of conchs and shells and the trumpeting of elephants rent
the air, With warlike cheers which made the sky ring, the Pandava army entered
Kurukshetra in martial array.
BALARAMA, the
illustrious brother of Krishna, visited the Pandavas, in their encampment. As
Halayudha (plough bearer), clad in blue silk, entered majestically like a lion.
Yudhishthira, Krishna and others gave the broad-shouldered warrior a glad
welcome. Bowing to Drupada and Virata, the visitor seated himself beside
Dharmaputra.
"I have come to
Kurukshetra," said he, "learning that the descendants of Bharata have
let themselves be overwhelmed by greed, anger and hatred and that the peace
talks have broken down and that war has been declared."
Overcome by emotion, he
paused for a while and then continued: "Dharmaputra, dreadful destruction
is ahead. The earth is going to is a bloody morass strewn with mangled bodies!
It is an evil destiny that has maddened the kshatriya world to foregather here
to meet its doom. Often have I told Krishna, 'Duryodhana is the same to us as
the Pandavas. We may not take sides in their foolish quarrels.' He would not
listen to me. His great affection for Dhananjaya has misled Krishna and he is
with you in this war which I see he has approved. How can Krishna and I be in
opposite camps? For Bhima and Duryodhana, both of them my pupils, I have equal
regard and love. How then can I support one against the other? Nor can I bear
to see the Kauravas destroyed. I will therefore have nothing to do with this
war, this conflagration that will consume everything. This tragedy has made me
lose all interest in the world and so I shall wander among holy places."
Having thus spoken
against the calamitous war, Krishna's brother left the place, his heart laden
with sorrow and his mind seeking consolation in God.
This episode of
Balarama’s, keeping out of the Mahabharata war is illustrative of the
perplexing situations in which good and honest men often find themselves.
Compelled to choose
between two equally justifiable, but contrary, courses of action, the unhappy
individual is caught on the horns of a dilemma. It is only honest men that find
themselves in this predicament. The dishonest ones of the earth have no such problems,
guided as they are solely by their own attachments and desires, that is, by
self-interest.
Not so the great men
who have renounced all desire. Witness the great trials to which, in the
Mahabharata, Bhishma, Vidura, Yudhishthira and Karna were put.
We read in that epic
how they solved their several difficulties. Their solutions did not conform to
a single moral pattern but reflected their several individualities. The conduct
of each was the reaction of his personality and character to the impact of
circumstances.
Modern critics and
expositors sometimes forget this underlying basic factor and seek to weigh all
in the same scales, which is quite wrong. We may profit by the way in which, in
the Ramayana, Dasaratha, Kumbhakarna, Maricha, Bharata and Lakshmana reacted to
the difficulties with which each of them was faced.
Likewise, Balarama's
neutrality in the Mahabharata war has a lesson. Only two princes kept out of
that war. One was Balarama and the other was Rukma, the ruler of Bhojakata. The
story of Rukma, whose younger sister Rukmini married Krishna, is told in the
next chapter.
BHISHMAKA, the king of
Vidarbha, had five sons and an only daughter, Rukmini, a princess of matchless
beauty, charm and strength of character.
Having heard of Krishna
and his renown, she wished to be united to him in wedlock and the desire daily
grew in intensity. Her relatives approved the idea, all except her eldest
brother Rukma, the heir apparent, between whom and Krishna there was no love
lost.
Rukma pressed his
father not to give Rukmini in marriage to the ruler of Dwaraka but to marry her
instead to Sisupala, the king of Chedi. The king being old, Rukma's became the
dominant voice and it looked as though Rukmini would be compelled to marry
Sisupala.
Rukmini, whose heart
was wholly Krishna's because she was Lakshmi incarnate, was disconsolate. She
feared that her father would be helpless against her domineering brother and
would not be able to prevent the unhappy marriage.
Mustering all her
strength of mind, Rukmini resolved somehow to find a way out of her
predicament. She took counsel with a brahmana whom, abandoning all maidenly
reserve, she sent as her emissary to Krishna, charging him to explain matters
to her beloved and sue for help.
The brahmana accordingly
went toDwaraka and conveyed to Krishna Rukmini's sad plight and her entreaty,
and handed to him the letter Rukmini had sent through him. The letter ran as
follows:
"My heart has
already accepted you as lord and master. I charge you therefore to come and
succour me before Sisupala carries me off by force. The matter cannot brook any
delay; so you must be here tomorrow. Sisupala's forces, as well as
Jarasandha's, will oppose you and will have to be overcome before you can have
me. May you be the triumphant hero and capture me! My brother has decided to
marry me to Sisupala and, as part of the wedding ceremonies, I am going to the
temple along with my retinue to offer worship to Parvati. That would be the
best time for you to come and rescue me. If you do not turn up, I will put an
end to my life so that I may at least join you in my next birth."
Krishna read this and
immediately mounted his chariot. At the king's behest, Kundinapura, the capital
of Vidarbha, was most gorgeously decorated and preparations for the wedding of
the princess with Sisupala were in full swing.
The bridegroom elect
and his associates, all sworn enemies of Krishna, had already assembled in the
capital. Balarama came to know of Krishna's sudden and secret departure, all by
himself.
Guessing that it must
be about the daughter of the king of Vidarbha and anxious lest Krishna should
be hemmed in alone by mortal enemies thirsting for his blood, he hurriedly
assembled a great force and marched on to Kundinapura.
Leaving her apartments,
Rukmini, accompanied by her retinue, went in procession to the temple, where
divine service was held.
"Oh Devi,"
implored Rukmini, praying for her intercession. "I prostrate myself before
thee who knowest my devotion. Grant that Krishna may espouse me."
Stepping out of the
temple, Rukmini sighted Krishna's chariot and ran straight as a needle to the
attracting magnet. She fled to him and got into his chariot. And Krishna drove
off with her, to the bewilderment of all around.
The servants ran to
Rukma, the heir apparent, and related what had happened. "I will not
return without killing Janardana," swore Rukma, and went in pursuit of
Krishna with a large force.
But, meanwhile,
Balarama had arrived with his army, and a great battle ensued between the two
opposing forces in which the enemy was utterly routed. Balarama and Krishna
returned home in triumph, where Rukmini's wedding with Krishna was celebrated
with customary rites.
The defeated Rukma was
ashamed to return to Kundinapura and built at the very site of the battle
between Krishna and himself a new city, Bhojakata, over which he ruled.
Hearing of the
Kurukshetra battle, Rukma arrived there with a huge force. Thinking that he
could thereby win the friendship of Vasudeva, he offered help to the Pandavas.
"Oh
Pandavas," said he addressing Dhananjaya, "the enemy forces are very
large. I have come to help you. Give me the word and I shall attack whichever
sector of the enemy formation you would like me to. I have the strength to
attack Drona, Kripa or even Bhishma. I shall bring you victory. Only let me
know your wish."
Turning to Vasudeva,
Dhananjaya laughed.
"Oh, ruler of
Bhojakata," said Arjuna, "we are not afraid of the size of the enemy
forces. We have no need of your help and do not particularly desire it. You may
either go away or stay on, just as you like."
At this, Rukma was
filled with anger and shame and went to Duryodhana's camp with his army.
"The Pandavas have refused my proffered assistance." Said he to
Duryodhana. "My forces are at your disposal."
"Is it not after
the Pandavas rejected your assistance that you have come here?" exclaimed
Duryodhana, and added: "I am not in such dire need yet as to welcome their
leavings."
Rukma, thus put to
disgrace by both sides, returned to his kingdom without taking part in battle.
Neutrality in war may be of several kinds.
It may arise from
conscientious objection to war or it may be due to mere conceit and
self-interest. Yet others may keep aloof through cowardice or sheer inertia.
Balarama was neutral in
the Mahabharata war because of his love of peace. Rukma, on the other hand,
abstained as a result of his conceit.
Instead of acting
according to dharma, he thought of personal glory, and neither side would have
him.
IT was the day before
the commencement of the great battle. The grandsire, now the Kaurava
Generalissimo, was with Duryodhana seeking to inspire him with his own heroic
spirit and cheerfulness.
Bhishma spoke of the
strength, skill and prowess of the warriors ranged on the Kauravas' side.
Duryodhana was cheered up. Presently, Karna became the subject of their talk.
"Karna has earned
your affection," said Bhishma, "but I do not think much of him. I do
not like his great hatred of the Pandavas, and he is too boastful. There is no
limit to his arrogance and he is much given to disparaging others. I would not
place him in the highest rank among the warriors of the land. Besides, he has
given away the divine armor with which he was born. He is not therefore likely
to be of great help to me in this battle. The curse of Parasurama is on him
too. His command of supernatural weapons will fail him in his hour of need, for
he will not be able to remember the mantras. And the battle that will ensue
between him and Arjuna will prove fatal for Karna."
Thus spoke Bhishma
without mincing matters, and this was exceedingly unpalatable to Duryodhana and
Karna. To make matters worse, Drona agreed with the grandsire and said:
"Karna is full of
pride and overconfidence, which will cause
him to be neglectful of the finer points of strategy, and through carelessness,
he will suffer defeat."
Enraged by these harsh
words, Karna turned to the grandsire with flaming eyes. "You sir,"
said he, "have always slighted me through mere dislike and envy and have
never neglected an opportunity of humiliating me, though I gave you no reason.
I bore all your taunts and thrusts for the sake of Duryodhana. You have said
that I would not be of much help in the impending war. Let me tell you my
settled conviction, it is you, not I, who will fail the Kauravas. Why hide your
real feelings? The fact of the matter is that you have no genuine affection for
Duryodhana, but he does not know it. Hating me you seek to come between me and
Duryodhana and poison his mind against me. And in furtherance of your wicked
design, you have been belittling my strength and running me down. You have
stooped to behavior unworthy of a kshatriya. Age alone does not confer a title
to honor and respect among warriors, but prowess does. Desist from poisoning
our relations."
Turning then to
Duryodhana, Karna said:
"Illustrious
warrior, think well and look to your own good. Do not place too great a
reliance on the grandsire. He is trying to sow dissension in our ranks. His
appraisement of me will injure your cause. By running me down, he seeks to
dampen my enthusiasm. He has become senile and his time is up. His arrogance
does not let him have regard for anyone else. Age must be respected and
experience is useful but, as the sastras warn us, there is a point when age
becomes senility and ripeness falls into rottenness and decay. You have made
Bhishma your Generalissimo who will, I have no doubt, earn some fame from the
heroic deeds of others. But I will not bear arms while he is in command. Only
after he has fallen will I do so."
The arrogant man is
never conscious of his own arrogance. When accused of it, he charges the
accuser with that very fault. His judgment is warped and he considers it a
crime on the part of anyone to point out his defect. This is well illustrated
in this episode.
Controlling his anger,
Bhishma replied: "Son of Surya, we are in a crisis and that is why you
have not ceased to live this moment. You have been the evil genius of the
Kauravas." Duryodhana was in distress.
"Son of Ganga, I
need the help of you both," he said. "You will both do deeds of great
heroism, I have no doubt. At the break of dawn, the battle joins. Let there be
no fighting among friends, with the foe in full force before us!"
But Karna was adamant
in that he would not take up arms so long as Bhishma was in supreme command.
Duryodhana eventually yielded to Karna and suffered him to carry out his
threat.
Karna kept out during
the first ten days of the battle, though all his men participated in it. At the
end of the tenth day, when the great Bhishma lay on the battlefield covered all
over with arrows, Karna went to him and bowed reverently and asked for
forgiveness and blessings, which he received.
Thereafter, Karna
cooperated and himself proposed Drona for the command of the Kaurava forces in
succession to Bhishma. When Drona also fell, Karna took over the command and led
the Kaurava forces.
ALL was ready for the
battle. The warriors on both sides gathered together and solemnly bound
themselves to honor the traditional rules of war.
The code of conduct in
war and methods of warfare vary from time to time. It is only if what was in
vogue at the time of the Mahabharata war is kept in mind that we can understand
the epic. Otherwise, the story would be puzzling in places.
From what follows, the
reader may have some idea of the rules of warfare followed in the Kurukshetra
battle. Each day, the battle was over at sunset, and the hostiles mixed freely
like friends.
Single combats might
only be between equals and one could not use methods not in accordance with
dharma. Thus those who left the field or retired would not be attacked. A
horseman could attack only a horseman, not one on foot.
Likewise, charioteers,
elephant troops and infantrymen could engage themselves in battle only with
their opposite numbers in the enemy ranks.
Those who sought
quarter or surrendered were safe from slaughter. Nor might one, for the moment
disengaged, direct his weapons against another who was engaged in combat.
It was wrong to slay
one who had been disarmed or whose attention was directed elsewhere or who was
retreating or who had lost his armor. And no shafts were to be directed against
non-combatant attendants or those engaged in blowing conchs or beating drums.
These were the rules
that the Kauravas and the Pandavas solemnly declared they would follow.
The passage of time has
witnessed many changes in men's ideas of right and wrong. Nothing is exempt
from attack in modern warfare.
Not only are munitions
made the target of attack, but dumb animals such as horses, camels, mules and
medical stores, nay, non-combatants of all ages, are destroyed without
compunction.
Sometimes the
established conventions went overboard even in the Mahabharata war.
We see clearly in the
story that occasional transgressions took place for one reason or another. But,
on the whole, the accepted rules of honorable and humane war were observed by
both sides in the Kurukshetra battle. And the occasional violations were looked
upon as wrong and shameful.
Addressing the princes
under his command, Bhishma said: "Heroes, yours is a glorious opportunity.
Before you, are the gates of heaven wide open. The joy of living with Indra and
Brahma awaits you. Pursue the path of your ancestors and follow the kshatriya
dharma. Fight with joy and attain fame and greatness. A kshatriya does not wish
to die of disease or old age in his bed but prefers to die on the
battlefield," and the princes responded by ordering their trumpets to be
sounded and shouted victory to the Kauravas.
On Bhishma's flag shone
brightly the palm tree and five stars. On Aswatthama's the lion tail fluttered
in the air.
In Drona's golden-hued
standard, the ascetic's bowl and the bow glistened, and the cobra of
Duryodhana's famed banner danced proudly with outspread hood.
On Kripa's flag was
depicted a bull, while Jayadratha's carried a wild boar. Likewise others and
the battlefield thus presented a pageant of flags.
Seeing the Kaurava
forces ranged in battle array, Yudhishthira gave orders to Arjuna:
"The enemy force
is very large. Our army being smaller, our tactics should be concentration
rather than deployment that will only weaken us. Array our forces, therefore, in needle formation."
Now, when Arjuna saw
men arrayed on both sides for mutual slaughter, he was deeply agitated and
Krishna spoke to him in order to quell his agitation and remove his doubts.
Krishna's exhortation
to Arjuna at this juncture is the Bhagavad Gita, which is enshrined in millions
of hearts as the Word of God. The Bhagavad Gita is acknowledged by all as one
of the supreme treasures of human literature.
Its gospel of devotion
to duty, without attachment or desire of reward, has shown the way of life for
all men, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, who have sought for light in the
dark problems of life.
63. Yudhishthira Seeks Benediction
EVERYTHING was ready
for the battle to begin. At this tense moment, both armies saw with amazement
Yudhishthira, the steadfast and brave son of Pandu, suddenly doff his armor and
put away his weapons. Descending from his chariot, he proceeded on foot towards
the commander of the Kaurava forces.
"What is this that
Yudhishthira is doing?" asked everyone and was puzzled by this sudden and
silent proceeding on the part of the Pandava.
Dhananjaya too was
perplexed and he jumped down from his chariot and ran to Yudhishthira. The
other brothers and Krishna also joined.
They feared that
perhaps Yudhishthira, surrendering to his natural inclination, had suddenly
decided to seek peace on any terms and was going forward to announce this.
"King, why are you
proceeding to the enemy's lines in this strange manner? You have told us
nothing. The enemy is ready for battle, their soldiers sheathed in armor and
with uplifted weapons. But you have doffed your armor and thrown aside your
weapons and are proceeding forward, unattended and on foot. Tell us what you
are about." Thus said Arjuna to Dharmaputra. But Yudhishthira was immersed
in deep thought and proceeded forward silently.
Then Vasudeva, who knew
the hearts of men, smiled and said: "He is going to the elders to ask for
their benediction before commencing this terrible fight. He feels it is not
right to start such a grave proceeding without formally taking such benediction
and permission. He goes to the grandsire to take his blessing and that of
Dronacharya. So he goes unarmed. It is right that he does this. He knows
proprieties. It is only thus that we might fare well in this battle."
The men in Duryodhana's
army, when they saw Yudhishthira advancing with hands clasped in humble
attitude, thought: "Here is the Pandava coming to sue for peace,
frightened at our strength. Truly this man brings disgrace to the race of
kshatriyas. Why was this coward born among us?" Thus did they talk among
themselves reviling Dharmaputra though delighted at the prospect of securing
victory without a blow.
Yudhishthira
went through the lines of soldiers armed from head to foot and proceeded
straight to where Bhishma was and, bending low and touching his feet in
salutation, said:
"Grandsire, permit
us to begin the battle. We have dared to give battle to you, our unconquerable
and incomparable grandsire. We seek benediction before beginning the
fight."
"Child,"
replied the grandsire, "born in the race of Bharatas, you have acted
worthily and according to our code of conduct. It gives me joy to see this.
Fight and you will have victory. I am not a free agent. I am bound by my
obligation to the king and must fight on the side of the Kauravas. But you will
not be defeated."
After thus obtaining the
permission and the blessings of the grandsire, Yudhishthira went to Drona and
circumambulated and bowed, according to form, to the acharya, who also gave his
blessings, saying:
"I
am under inescapable obligations to the Kauravas, O son of Dharma. Our vested
interests enslave us and become our masters. Thus have I become bound to the
Kauravas. I shall fight on their side. But yours will be the victory."
Yudhishthira similarly
approached and obtained the blessings of Kripacharya and uncle Salya and
returned to the Pandava lines.
The battle began,
commencing with single combats between the leading chiefs armed with equal
weapons. Bhishma and Partha, Satyaki and Kritavarma, Abhimanyu and Brihatbala,
Duryodhana and Bhima, Yudhishthira and Salya, and Dbrishtadyumna and Drona were
thus engaged in great battles.
Similarly, thousands of
other warriors fought severally according to the rules of war of those days.
Besides these numerous
single combats between renowned warriors, there was also indiscriminate fighting
among common soldiers. The name of "sankula yuddha" was given to such
free fighting and promiscuous carnage. The Kurukshetra battle witnessed many
such "sankula" fights wherein countless men fought and died in the
mad lust of battle. On the field lay piles of slaughtered soldiers,
charioteers, elephants and horses. The ground became a bloody mire in which it
was difficult for the chariots to move about. In modern battles there is no
such thing as single combats. It is all "sankula."
The Kauravas fought under
Bhishma's command for ten days. After him, Drona took the command. When Drona
died, Karna succeeded to the command. Karna fell towards the close of the
seventeenth day's battle. And Salya led the Kaurava army on the eighteenth and
last day.
Towards the latter part
of the battle, many savage and unchivalrous deeds were done. Chivalry and rules
of war die hard, for there is an innate nobility in human nature. But difficult
situations and temptations arise which men are too weak to resist, especially
when they are exhausted with fighting and warped with hatred and bloodshed.
Even great men commit
wrong and their lapses thereafter furnish bad examples to others, and dharma
comes to be disregarded more and more easily and frequently. Thus does violence
beget and nourish adharma and plunge the world in wickedness.
DUHSASANA was leading
the Kaurava forces and Bhimasena did the same on the Pandava side. The noise of
battle rolled and rent the air. The kettledrums, trumpets, horns and conchs
made the sky ring with their clamor.
Horses neighed,
charging elephants trumpeted and the warriors uttered their lion-roars. Arrows
flew in the air like burning meteors. Fathers and sons, uncles and nephews slew
one another forgetful of old affection and ties of blood. It was a mad and
terrible carnage. In the forenoon of the first day's battle the Pandava army
was badly shaken. Wherever Bhishma's chariot went, it was like the dance of the
destroyer. Abhimanyu could not bear this and he attacked the grandsire. When
the oldest and the youngest warriors thus met in battle, the gods came to watch
the combat. Abhimanyu's flag, displaying the golden karnikara tree brightly
waved on his chariot.
Kritavarma was hit by
one of his arrows and Salya was hit five times. Bhishma himself was hit nine
times by Abhimanyu's shafts. Durmukha's charioteer was struck by one of
Abhimanyu's sword-edge arrow and his severed head rolled on the ground.
Another broke Kripa's
bow. Abhimanyu's feats brought down showers of flowers from the gods who looked
on. Bhishma and the warrior supporting him exclaimed: "Indeed, a worthy
son to Dhananjaya!"
Then the Kaurava
warriors made a combined attack on the valiant youth. But he stood against them
all. He parried with his own all the shafts discharged by Bhishma.
One of his well-aimed
arrows brought the grandsire's palm tree flag down. Seeing this, Bhimasena was
overjoyed and made a great lion-roar that further inspired the valiant nephew.
Great was the grandsire's joy, seeing the valor of the young hero. Unwillingly,
he had to use his full strength against the boy. Virata, his son Uttara,
Dhrishtadyumna, the son of Drupada and Bhima came to relieve the young hero and
attacked the grandsire who then turned his attentions on them.
Uttara, the son of
Virata, rode an elephant and led a fierce charge on Salya. Salya's chariot
horses were trampled to death and thereupon he hurled a javelin at Uttara. It
went with unerring aim and pierced him in the chest.
The goad he had in his
hand dropped and he rolled down dead. But the elephant did not withdraw. It
continued charging until Salya cut off its trunk and hit it in many places with
his arrows. And then it uttered a loud cry and fell dead. Salya got into
Kritavarma's car.
Virata's son Sveta saw
Salya slay his younger brother. His anger rose, like fire fed by libations of
butter. And he drove his chariot towards Salya. Seven chariot warriors at once
came up in support of Salya and protected him from all sides.
Arrows were showered on
Sveta and the missiles sped across like lightning in clouds. Sveta defended
himself marvelously. He parried their shafts with his own and cut their
javelins down as they sped towards him. The warriors in both armies were amazed
at the skill displayed by Sveta. Duryodhana lost no time now and sent forces to
relieve Salya. Whereupon there was a great battle. Thousands of soldiers
perished, and numerous were the chariots broken and the horses and elephants
killed. Sveta succeeded in putting Duryodhana's men to flight and he pushed
forward and attacked Bhishma.
Bhishma's flag was
brought down by Sveta. Bhishma, in his turn, killed Sveta's horses and
charioteer. There upon, they hurled javelins at one another and fought on.
Sveta took a mace, and
swinging it, sent it at Bhishma's car which was smashed to pieces. But the
grandsire, even before the mace dashed against the chariot, had anticipated it
and jumped down. From the ground he pulled the string of his bow to his ear and
sent a fatal arrow at Sveta. Sveta was struck and fell dead. Duhsasana blew his
horn and danced in joy. This was followed by a great attack on the Pandava army
by Bhishma.
The Pandava forces
suffered greatly on the first day of the battle. Dharmaputra was seized with
apprehension, and Duryodhana's joy was unbounded. The brothers came to Krishna
and were engaged in anxious consultations.
"Chief among
Bharatas," said Krishna to Yudhishthira, "do not fear. God has
blessed you with valiant brothers. Why should you entertain any doubts? There
is Satyaki and there are Virata, Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna, besides myself.
What reason is there for you to be dejected? Do you forget that Sikhandin is
awaiting for his predestined victim Bhishma?" Thus did Krishna comfort
Yudhishthira.
THE Pandava army,
having fared badly on the first day of the battle, Dhrishtadyumna, the
Generalissimo, devised measures to avoid a repetition of it. On the second day,
the army was most carefully arrayed and everything was done to instil
confidence.
Duryodhana, filled with
conceit on account of the success on the first day, stood in the center of his
army and addressed his warriors.
"Heroes in
armor", he said in a loud voice, "our victory is assured. Fight and
care not for life."
The Kaurava army, led
by Bhishma, again made strong attack on the Pandava forces and broke their
formation, killing large numbers.
Arjuna, turning to
Krishna, his charioteer, said: "If we continue in this way, our army will
soon be totally destroyed by the grandsire. Unless we slay Bhishma, I am afraid
we can not save our army."
"Dhananjaya, then
get ready. There is the grandsire's chariot," replied Krishna, and drove
straight towards him.
The chariot sped
forward at a great pace. The
grandsire sent his shafts welcoming the challenge. Duryodhana had ordered his
men to protect the grandsire most vigilantly and never to let him expose
himself to danger.
Accordingly, all the
warriors, supporting the grandsire, at once intervened and attacked Arjuna who,
however, fought on unconcerned.
It was well known that
there were but three on the Kaurava side who could stand against Arjuna with
any chance of success the grandsire Bhishma, Drona and Karna. Arjuna made short
work of the warriors, who intervened in support of Bhishma.
The way in which he
wielded his great bow on this occasion, extorted the admiration of all the
great generals in the army. His chariot flashed hither and thither sundering
hostile ranks like forked lightning, so rapidly that the eye ached to follow
its career.
Duryodhana's heart beat
fast as he watched this combat. His confidence in the great Bhishma began to be
shaken.
"Son of
Ganga," Duryodhana said, "it seems as if even while you and Drona are
alive and fighting, this irresistible combination of Arjuna and Krishna will
destroy our entire army. Karna whose devotion and loyalty to me are most
genuine stands aside and does not fight for me only because of you. I fear I
shall be deceived and you will not take steps quickly to destroy Phalguna
(Arjuna)."
The gods came down to
watch the combat between Bhishma and Arjuna. These were two of the greatest
warriors on earth. Both chariots were drawn by white steeds.
From either side flew
arrows in countless number. Shaft met shaft in the air and sometimes the
grandsire's missile hit Arjuna's breast and that of Madhava (Krishna). And the
blood flowing made Madhava more beautiful than ever as he stood like a green
palasa tree in full bloom with crimson flowers.
Arjuna's wrath rose
when he saw his dear charioteer hit and he pulled his bow and sent well-aimed
arrows at the grandsire. The combatants were equal and the battle raged for a
long while.
In the movements the
chariots made they were so close to one another and moved about so fast that it
was not possible to say where Arjuna was and where Bhishma. Only the flag could
be distinguished.
As this great and
wonderful scene was enacted in one part of the field, at another place a fierce
battle was being fought between Drona and his born enemy Dhrishtadyumna, the
son of the king of the Panchalas and brother of Draupadi.
Drona's attack was
powerful and Dhrishtadyumna was wounded badly. But the latter retaliated with
equal vigor and with a grin of hatred he shot arrows and sped other missiles at
Drona.
Drona defended himself with great skill. He
parried the sharp missiles and the heavy maces hurled at him with his arrows
and broke them to pieces even as they sped in the air.
Many times did
Dhrishtadyumna's bow break, hit by Drona's arrows. One of Drona's arrows killed
the Panchala prince's charioteer. Thereupon Dhrishtadyumna took up a mace and,
jumping down from the chariot, went forward on foot.
Drona sent an arrow
that brought the mace down. Dhrishtadyumna then drew his sword and rushed
forward like a lion springing on its elephant prey. But Drona again disabled
him and prevented his advance.
Just then Bhima, who
saw the Panchala's predicament, sent a shower of arrows on Drona and carried
Dhrishtadyumna to safety in his chariot.
Duryodhana who saw this
sent the Kalinga forces against Bhimasena. Bhima killed the Kalinga warriors in
great number. Like Death itself he moved about among his enemies and felled
them to the ground. So fierce was the destruction that the entire army trembled
in fear.
When Bhishma saw this,
he came to relieve the Kalingas. Satyaki, Abhimanyu and other warriors came up
in support of Bhima. One of Satyaki's shafts brought Bhishma's charioteer down
and the horses of Bhishma's chariot, left uncontrolled, bolted carrying Bhishma
away from the field.
The Pandava army was
wild with enthusiasm when Bhishma's chariot sped thus out of the field. They
took advantage of the situation and made a fierce attack on the Kaurava army.
Great was the loss the
Kaurava army suffered in that day's battle as a result of Arjuna's deeds of
valor. The generals of the Kaurava army were greatly perturbed and their
previous day's enthusiasm had all disappeared.
They eagerly looked
forward to sunset when there would be an end to the day's battle. As the sun
sank in the west, Bhishma said to Drona: "It is well we stop the fighting
now. Our army is disheartened and weary."
On the side of the
Pandavas, Dhananjaya and others returned in great cheer to their camp, with
bands playing. At the end of the second day's battle, the Kauravas were in the
mood that the Pandavas were in the previous evening.
ON the morning of the
third day Bhishma arrayed his army in eagle formation and himself led it while
Duryodhana and his forces protected the rear. So great was the care taken over
every detail that the Kauravas were certain that there could be no mishap for
them that day.
The Pandavas too
arrayed their forces with skill. Dhananjaya and Dhrishtadyumna decided in favor
of a crescent formation of their army so as more effectually to cope with the
eagle formation of the enemy's forces.
On
the right horn of the crescent stood Bhima and on the left Arjuna, leading the
respective divisions. The battle began. All arms were at once engaged and blood
flowed in torrents and the dust that was raised by chariots, horses and
elephants rose to hide the sun.
Dhananjaya's attack was
powerful but the enemy stood firm. A counter-attack was made by the Kauravas
concentrating on Arjuna's position. Javelins and spears and other missiles flew
in the air shining like forked lightning in a thunderstorm.
Like a great cloud of
locusts the shafts covered Arjuna's chariot. But with amazing skill he raised a
moving fortification around his chariot with arrows discharged in an unending
stream from his famous bow.
At
another point Sakuni led a large force against Satyaki and Abhimanyu. Satyaki's
chariot was broken to pieces and he had to scramble up Abhimanyu's chariot and
thereafter both fought from the same chariot.
They were able to destroy
Sakuni's forces. Drona and Bhishma jointly attacked Dharmaputra's division and
Nakula and Sahadeva joined their brother in opposing Drona's offensive.
Bhima and his son
Ghatotkacha attacked Duryodhana's division and in that day's battle the son
appeared to excel his great father in valor.
Bhima's shafts hit
Duryodhana and he lay in swoon in his chariot. His charioteer quickly drove the
chariot away from the scene. He feared that the Kaurava forces would be
completely demoralised if they saw that the prince had been disabled.
But even this movement
created great confusion. Bhimasena took full advantage of the position and
worked havoc among the fleeing Kaurava forces.
Drona and Bhishma who
saw the discomfiture and confusion of the Kaurava army came up quickly and
restored confidence. The scattered forces were brought together and Duryodhana
was again seen leading them.
"How can you stand
thus," said Duryodhana to the grandsire, "looking on when our forces
are scattered and put to disgraceful flight? I fear you are too kind to the
Pandavas. Why did you not tell me frankly 'I love the Pandavas; Dhrishtadyumna
and Satyaki are my friends and I cannot attack or slay them.' You should have
stated the position explicitly to me. Surely these men are not equal to you.
And if you were so minded, you could deal with them easily. Even now, it would
be best if you and Drona told me frankly your mind in the matter."
The chagrin of defeat,
and the knowledge that the grandsire disapproved of his ways made Duryodhana
speak thus bitterly. But Bhishma merely smiled and said: "Wasn't I quite
frank in my advice to you? That advice you rejected when you decided on war. I
tried to prevent the war but, now that it has come, I am fulfilling my duties
by you with all my might. I am an old man and what I am doing is quite my
utmost."
Saying thus, the
grandsire resumed his operations. The turn of events in the forenoon had been
so much in their favor that the delighted Pandavas were now somewhat careless.
They did not expect
Bhishma to rally his forces and attack them again. But stung by Duryodhana's
reproaches, the grandsire raged about the field like a destroying fire.
He rallied his men and
delivered the most severe attack yet made on the Pandava army. The latter
thought that the grandsire had multiplied himself into a number of Bhishmas
fighting at several points. So swift were his movements that afternoon.
Those who opposed him
were struck down and perished like months in the fire. The Pandava army was
thoroughly broken and began to scatter. Vasudeva, Partha and Sikhandin tried
hard to restore order and
confidence, but were unsuccessful.
"Dhanjaya,"
said Krishna, "now has the critical time come. Be true to your decision
not to flinch from your duty to kill in battle Bhishma, Drona and all the other
friends and relatives and respected elders. You have pledged yourself to it and
you have now to carry it out. Otherwise our army is lost beyond redemption. You
must now attack the grandsire."
"Drive on,"
said Arjuna.
As Dhananjaya's chariot
sped on towards Bhishma, it met a hot reception from the grandsire, who covered
it with his arrows.
But, Arjuna bent his
bow and discharged three shafts that broke the grandsire's bow. Bhishma picked
up another bow but it too met the same fate. The grandsire's heart was
gladdened when he saw Arjuna's skill in archery.
"Hail, brave
warrior!" applauded the grandsire, even as, taking up another bow; he
poured shafts on Arjuna's chariot with unerring aim.
Krishna
was not happy at the way Arjuna met the attack. The grandsire's bow was working
fiercely. But Arjuna's hands did not do their best, for his heart was not in
it.
He had too much regard
for his great grandsire. Krishna thought that, if Arjuna went on like this, the
army, which had been so badly demoralized already, would be utterly destroyed
and all would be lost.
Krishna managed the
chariot skilfully, but in spite of it, both he and Arjuna were hit many times
by Bhishma's arrows.
Janardana's (Krishna)
anger rose. "I can stand this no longer, Arjuna. I shall kill Bhishma
myself if you will not do it!" he exclaimed, and dropping the reins, he
took up his discus and jumped down from the chariot and dashed forward towards
Bhishma.
Bhishma was far from
being perturbed at this. On the contrary, his face expanded with ecstatic joy.
"Come, come, Oh Lotus-eyed One!" he exclaimed.
"I bow to you, Oh
Madhava. Lord of the World, have you indeed come down from the chariot for my
sake? I offer you my life. If I be slain by you, I shall be glorified in the
three worlds. Give me that boon. May your hands take this life away and save me
for eternity."
Arjuna was distressed
to see this. He jumped down and ran after Krishna. Overtaking him with great
difficulty, he entreated Krishna to turn back.
"Do not lose your patience
with me. Desist and I promise not to flinch," he said, and persuaded
Krishna to return. The chariot reins were again in Krishna's hands. Arjuna
attacked the Kaurava forces furiously and thousands were slain by him.
THE battle was very
much the same every day and the narrative is one of monotonous fighting and
killing. Still, the great battle is the central event in the Mahabharata and,
if we skip over it, we cannot fully understand the epic heroes of that crowded
stage.
At break of day,
Bhishma arrayed the Kaurava forces again. Surrounded by Drona, Duryodhana and
others, the grandsire looked verily like great Indra, holding his thunder bolt,
surrounded by the devas.
The Kaurava army, with
its chariots, elephants and horses all arrayed in battle order and ready for
the fight, presented the appearance of the sky in a great thunderstorm.
The grandsire gave
orders for advance. Arjuna watched the hostile movements from his chariot,
whereon the Hanuman flag was waving, and he too got ready.
The battle commenced.
Aswatthama, Bhurisravas, Salya, Chitrasena and the son of Chala surrounded
Abhimanyu and attacked him. The warrior fought like a lion opposing five
elephants.
Arjuna saw this
combined attack on his son and, with a wrathful lion roar joined his son
whereat the tempo of fighting flared up. Dhrishtadyumna also arrived with a
large force. The son of Chala was killed.
Chala himself now
joined and he with Salya, made a strong attack on Dhrishtadyumna. The latter's
bow was severed into two by a sharp missile discharged by Salya.
Abhimanyu saw this and
sent a shower of arrows on Salya and put him in such danger that Duryodhana and
his brothers rushed to Salya's help. Bhimasena also appeared on the scene at
this juncture.
When Bhima raised his
mace aloft, Duryodhana's brothers lost courage. Duryodhana, who saw this, was
exceedingly angry and immediately charged against Bhima with a large force of
elephants.
As soon as Bhima saw
the elephants coming up, he descended from his chariot, iron mace in hand,
attacked them so fiercely that they scattered in a wild stampede, throwing the
Kaurava ranks into disorder.
It will be seen that
even in our Puranic stories elephants fared as badly in battle as they did in
the wars of the Greeks and the Romans. Bhima's attack on the elephants was like
Indra's devastating onslaught on the winged mountains.
The slaughtered
elephants lay dead on the field like great hills. Those that escaped fled in
panic and caused great havoc in the Kaurava army, trampling numerous soldiers
in their wild race. Duryodhana, thereupon, ordered a wholesale attack on Bhima.
But he stood firm as a
rock and presently, the Pandava warriors came up and joined him. A number of
Duryodhana's arrows struck Bhima's chest and he climbed up his chariot again.
"Visoka, now is
the glad hour," said Bhima to his charioteer. "I see a number of
Dhritarashtra's sons before me, ready to be shaken down like ripe fruits on a
tree. Keep your hold well on the reins and drive on. I am going to dispatch
these wretches to Yama's abode." Bhima's arrows would have killed
Duryodhana then and there, had it not been for his armor.
Eight of Duryodhana's
brothers were slain in that day's battle by Bhima. Duryodhana fought fiercely.
Bhima's bow was smashed by one of Duryodhana's arrows. Taking up a fresh bow,
Bhima sent an arrow with a knife-edge at Duryodhana that cut the latter's bow
into two.
Not baffled by this,
Duryodhana took up a fresh bow and discharged a well-aimed shaft which struck
Bhima on his chest with such force that he reeled and sat down.
The Pandava warriors
now poured a great shower of arrows on Duryodhana. Ghatotkacha, who saw his
father sit dazed with the force of the blow, got exceedingly angry and fell on
the Kaurava army, which was unable to stand against his onslaught.
"We cannot fight
this Rakshasa today." said Bhishma to Drona. "Our men are weary. It is nearing sunset and at night of
the Rakshasas grows stronger with the darkness. Let us deal with Ghatotkacha
tomorrow."
The grandsire ordered
his army to retire for the night. Duryodhana sat musing in his tent, his eyes
filled with tears. He had lost many of his brothers in that day's battle.
"Sanjaya,"
exclaimed Dhritarashtra. "Every day, you give me nothing but bad news. Your
tale has ever been one of sorrow, of defeat and loss of dear ones! I cannot
stand this any more. What stratagem can save my people? How are we going to win in this fight? Indeed,
I am full of fear. It seems fate is more powerful than human effort."
"King " said
Sanjaya in reply, "is this not all the result of your own folly? Of what
avail is grief? How can I manufacture good news for you? You should hear the
truth with fortitude."
"Ah! Vidura's
words are coming true," said the blind old king, plunged in great grief.
"I AM like a
shipwrecked man seeking to save himself by swimming in a storm tossed ocean. I
shall surely drown, overwhelmed in this sea of sorrow."
Again and again, when
Sanjaya related the happenings of the great battle, Dhritarashtra would thus
lament, unable to bear his grief.
"Bhima is going to
kill all my sons," he said. "I do not believe there is anyone with
prowess enough in our army to protect my sons from death. Did Bhishma, Drona,
Kripa and Aswatthama look on unconcerned when our army fled in terror? What
indeed is their plan? When and how are they going to help Duryodhana? How are
my sons to escape from destruction?"
Saying thus, the blind
old king burst into tears.
"Calm
yourself, King," said Sanjaya. "The Pandavas rest on the strength of
a just cause. So, they win. Your sons are brave but their thoughts are wicked.
Therefore, luck does not favor them. They have done great injustice to the
Pandavas, and they are reaping the harvest of their sins. The Pandavas are not
winning by charms or magic incantations. They are fighting according to the
practice of kshatriyas. Their cause being just, they have strength. Friends
advised you, but you discarded wise counsel. Vidura, Bhishma, Drona and I tried
to stop you in your unwise course, but you did not listen and you went on. Like
a foolish sick man who refuses to drink bitter medicine, you obstinately
refused to follow our advice, which would have saved your people, preferring to
do as your foolish son desired. You are in distress now. Last night, Duryodhana
asked Bhishma the same question as you put to me now. And Bhishma gave the same
answer as I give you."
When the fighting was
stopped on the evening of the fourth day, Duryodhana went by himself to
Bhishma's tent and, bowing reverently, said:
"Grandsire, the
world knows that you are a warrior who knows not fear. The same is the case
with Drona, Kripa, Aswatthama, Kritavarma, Sudakshin, Bhurisravas, Vikarna and
Bhagadatta. Death has no terror for these veterans. There is no doubt, the
prowess of these great warriors is limitless, even like your own. All the
Pandavas combined cannot defeat any one of you. What then is the mystery behind
this daily defeat of our army at the hands of the sons of Kunti?"
Bhishma replied:
"Prince, listen to me. I have given you advice on every occasion and told
you what was good for you. But, you have always refused to follow what your
elders counselled you to do. Again, I tell you that it is best for you to make
peace with Pandu's sons. For your good as well as for that of the world, that
is the only course that should be followed. Belonging to the same royal house,
you can all enjoy this vast country as yours. I gave you this advice, but you
disregarded it and have grievously wronged the Pandavas, the fruit of which you
are now reaping. The Pandavas are protected by Krishna himself. How then can
you hope for victory? Even now, it is not loo late for making peace and that is
the way to rule your kingdom, making the Pandavas, your powerful brothers,
friends instead of enemies. Destruction awaits you if you insult Dhananjaya and
Krishna, who are none other than Nara and Narayana."
Duryodhana took leave
and went to his tent, but he could not sleep that night.
The battle was resumed
the next morning. Bhishma arrayed the Kaurava forces in a strong formation. So
did Dhrishtadyumna for the Pandava army.
Bhima stood at the head
of the advance lines as usual. And Sikhandin, Dhrishtadyumna and Satyaki stood
behind, securely guarding the main body, aided by other generals.
Dharmaputra and the
twin brothers held the rear. Bhishma bent his bow and discharged his shafts.
The Pandava army suffered greatly under the grandsire's attack.
Dhananjaya saw this and
retaliated by fierce shafts aimed at Bhishma. Duryodhana went to Drona and
complained bitterly according to his custom.
Drona upbraided him
severely: "Obstinate prince, you talk without understanding. You are
ignorant of the Pandavas' strength. We are doing our best."
Drona's powerful attack
on the Pandava army was too much for Satyaki who was meeting it and Bhima
therefore turned his attentions to Drona. The battle grew fiercer still. Drona,
Bhishma and Salya made a combined attack on Bhima.
Sikhandin supported
Bhima by pouring a shower of arrows on Bhishma. As soon as Sikhandin stepped
in, Bhishma turned away. For Sikhandin was born a girl, and Bhishma's
principles did not permit him to attack a woman.
In the end, this same
objection proved to be the cause of Bhishma's death. When Drona saw Bhishma
turn away, he attacked Sikhandin fiercely and compelled him to withdraw.
There was a promiscuous
battle the whole of the morning of the fifth day, and the slaughter was
terrific. In the after noon, Duryodhana sent a large force to oppose Satyaki.
But Satyaki destroyed
it completely and advanced to attack Bhurisravas. Bhurisravas, who was a
powerful opponent, put Satyaki's men to fight, and pressed Satyaki himself so
fiercely that he was in distress.
Satyaki's ten sons saw
their father's plight and sought to relieve him by launching an offensive
against Bhurisravas, but Bhurisravas undaunted by numbers, opposed the combined
attack and was not to be shaken. His well-aimed darts broke their weapons and
they were all slain, strewn on the field like so many tall trees struck down by
lightning. Satyaki, wild with rage and grief, drove forward at a furious pace
to slay Bhurisravas.
The chariots of the two
warriors dashed against each other and crumbled to pieces. And the warriors
stood face to face with sword and shield in desperate single combat.
Then, Bhima came and
took away Satyaki by force into his chariot and drove away. For Bhima knew that
Bhurisravas was an unrivalled swordsman and he did not want Satyaki to be
slain.
Arjuna killed thousands
of warriors that evening. The soldiers, dispatched against him by Duryodhana,
perished like moths in the fire. As the sun went down and Bhishma gave orders
to cease fighting, the princes on the Pandava army surrounded Arjuna and
greeted him with loud cries of admiration and victory.
The armies on both
sides retired to camp, along with the tired horses and elephants.
ACCORDING to
Yudhishthira's order Dhrishtadyumna arrayed the Pandava army in makara (fish)
formation for the sixth day's battle. The Kaurava army was arrayed in krauncha
(heron) formation.
We know, how,
similarly, names were given to physical exercise, asanas, or postures. Vyuha
was the general name for battle array. Which Vyuha was best for any particular
occasion, depended on the requirements of the offensive and defensive plans of
the day.
What the strength and
composition of the forces arrayed should be and what positions they should take
up were decided upon, according to the situation as it developed from time to
time.
The sixth day was
marked by a prodigious slaughter, even in the first part of the morning.
Drona's charioteer was killed and Drona took the reins of the horses himself
and used his bow as well.
Great was the
destruction he effected. He went about like fire among cotton heaps. The
formations of both armies were soon broken and indiscriminate and fierce
fighting went on. Blood flowed in torrents and the field was covered by dead
bodies of soldiers, elephants and horses and the debris of chariots.
Bhimasena pierced the
enemy's lines to seek out Duryodhana's brothers and finish them. They, for
their part, did not wait to be sought, but rushed on him, in a combined attack
from all sides. He was attacked by Duhsasana, Durvishaha, Durmata, Jaya,
Jayatsena, Vikarna, Chitrasena, Sudarsana, Charuchitra, Suvarma, Dushkarna and
others, all together.
Bhimasena, who did not
know what fear was, stood up and fought them all. They desired to take him
prisoner and he to kill them all on the spot.
The battle raged
fiercely, even like the ancient battle between the gods and the asuras.
Suddenly, the son of Pandu lost his patience and jumped down from his chariot,
mace in band, and made straight on foot for the sons of Dhritarashtra, in hot
haste to slay them.
When Dhrishtadyumna saw
Bhima's chariot disappear in the enemy lines, he was alarmed and rushed to
prevent disaster. He reached Bhima's car, but found it was occupied only by the
charioteer and Bhima was not in it. With tears in his eyes, he asked the
charioteer: "Visoka, where is Bhima dearer to me than life?"
Dhrishtadyumna naturally thought Bhima had fallen.
Visoka bowed and said
to the son of Drupada: "The son of Pandu asked me to stay here and,
without waiting for my reply rushed forward on foot, mace in hand, into the
enemy ranks."
Fearing that Bhima
would be overpowered and killed Dhrishtadyumna drove his chariot into the enemy
lines in search of Bhimasena, whose path was marked by the bodies of slain
elephants.
When Dhrishtadyumna
found Bhima, he saw him surrounded on all sides by enemies fighting from their
chariots. Bhima stood against them all, mace in hand, wounded all over and
breathing fire.
Dhrishtadyumna embraced
him and took him into his chariot and proceeded to pick out the shafts that had
stuck in his body. Duryodhana now ordered his warriors to attack Bhimasena and
Dhrishtadyumna and not to wait for them to attack or challenge.
Accordingly, they made
a combined attack even though they were not inclined to engage themselves in
further fighting. Dhrishtadyumna had a secret weapon, which he had obtained
from Dronacharya and, discharging it, threw the enemy forces into a stupor.
But Duryodhana then
joined the fray and discharged weapons to counter the stupor weapons of
Dhrishtadyumna. Just then, reinforcements sent by Yudhishthira arrived.
A force of twelve
chariots with their retinue led by Abhimanyu came upon the scene to support
Bhima.
Dhrishtadyumna was
greatly relieved when he saw this. Bhimasena had also by now refreshed himself
and was ready to renew the fight. He got into Kekaya's chariot and took up his
position along with the rest.
Drona, however, was
terrible that day. He killed Dhrishtadyumna's charioteer and horses and smashed
his chariot and Drupada's son had to seek a place in Abhimanyu's car. The
Pandava forces began to waver and Drona was cheered by the Kaurava army.
Indiscriminate mass
fighting and slaughter went on that day. At one time, Bhima and Duryodhana met
face to face. The usual exchange of hot words took place and was followed by a
great battle of archery.
Duryodhana was hit and
fell unconscious. Kripa extricated him with great skill and took him away in
his own chariot. Bhishma personally arrived at the spot now and led the attack
and scattered the Pandava forces.
The sun was sinking,
but the battle was continued for an hour yet and the fighting was fierce and
many thousands perished. Then the day's battle ceased. Yudhishthira was glad
that Dhrishtadyumna and Bhima returned to camp alive.
DURYODHANA, wounded all
over and suffering greatly, went to Bhishma and said:
"The battle had
been going against us every day. Our formations are broken and our warriors are
being slain in large numbers. You are looking on doing nothing."
The grandsire soothed
Duryodhana with comforting words:
"Why do you let
yourself be disheartened? Here are all of us, Drona, Salya, Kritavarma,
Aswatthama, Vikarna, Bhagadatta, Sakuni, the two brothers of Avanti, the
Trigarta chief, the king of Magadha, and Kripacharya. When these great warriors
are here, ready to give up their lives for you, why should you feel
downhearted? Get rid of this mood of dejection."
Saying this, he issued
orders for the day.
"See there,"
the grandsire said to Duryodhana. "These thousands of cars, horses and
horsemen, great war elephants, and those armed foot soldiers from various
kingdoms are all ready to fight for you. With this fine army, you can vanquish
even the gods. Fear not."
Thus cheering up the
dejected Duryodhana, he gave him a healing balm for his wounds. Duryodhana
rubbed it over his numerous wounds and felt relieved.
He went to the field,
heartened by the grandsire's words of confidence. The army was that day arrayed
in circular formation. With each war elephant were seven chariots fully
equipped.
Each chariot was
supported by seven horsemen. To each horseman were attached ten shield bearers.
Everyone wore armor.
Duryodhana stood
resplendent like Indra at the center of this great and well-equipped army.
Yudhishthira arrayed the Pandava army in vajravyuha. This day's battle was
fiercely fought simultaneously at many sectors.
Bhishma personally
opposed Arjuna's attacks. Drona and Virata were engaged with each other at
another point. Sikhandin and Aswatthama fought a big battle at another sector.
Duryodhana and
Dhrishtadyumna fought with each other at yet another point. Nakula and Sahadeva
attacked their uncle Salya. The Avanti kings opposed Yudhamanyu, while
Bhimasena opposed Kritavarma, Chitrasena, Vikarna and Durmarsha.
There were great
battles between Ghatotkacha and Bhagadatta, between Alambasa and Satyaki,
between Bhurisravas and Dhrishtaketu, between Yudhishthira and Srutayu and
between Chekitana and Kripa.
In the battle between
Drona and Virata, the latter was worsted and he had to climb into the chariot
of his son Sanga, having lost his own chariot, horses and charioteer.
Virata's sons Uttara
and Sveta had fallen in the first day's battle. On this seventh day, Sanga also
was slain just as his father came up to his side. Sikhandin, Drupada's son, was
defeated by Aswatthama.
His chariot was smashed
and he jumped down and stood sword and shield in hand. Aswatthama aimed his
shaft at his sword and broke it. Sikhandin then whirled the broken sword and
hurled it at Aswatthama with tremendous force, but it was met by Aswatthama's
arrow.
Sikhandin, badly
beaten, got into Satyaki's chariot and retired. In the fight between Satyaki
and Alambasa, the former had the worst of it at first but later recovered
ground and Alambasa had to flee.
In the battle between
Dhrishtadyumna and Duryodhana, the horses of the latter were killed and he had
to alight from his chariot. He, however, continued the fight, sword in hand.
Sakuni came then and took the prince away in his chariot.
Kritavarma made a
strong attack on Bhima but was worsted. He lost his chariot and horses and
acknowledging defeat, fled towards Sakuni's car, with Bhima's arrows sticking
all over him, making him look like a porcupine speeding away in the forest.
Vinda and Anuvinda of
Avanti were defeated by Yudhamanyu, and their armies were completely destroyed.
Bhagadatta attacked Ghatotkacha and put to flight all his supporters.
But, alone, Ghatotkacha
stood and fought bravely. But in the end, he too had to save himself by flight,
which gladdened the whole Kaurava army.
Salya attacked his
nephews. Nakula's horses were killed and he had to join his brother in the
latter's chariot. Both continued the fight from the same car. Salya was hit by
Sahadeva's arrow and swooned. The charioteer skilfully drove the car away and
saved Salya.
When the Madra king
(Salya) was seen retreating from the field Duryodhana's army lost heart and the
twin sons of Madri blew their conchs in triumph. Taking advantage of the
situation, they inflicted heavy damage on Salya's forces.
At noon, Yudhishthira
led an attack on Srutayu. The latter's well-aimed arrows intercepted
Dharmaputra's missiles, and his armor was pierced and he was severely wounded.
Yudhishthira then lost
his temper and sent a powerful arrow that pierced Srutayu's breast-plate. That
day, Yudhishthira was not his normal self and burnt with anger.
Srutayu's charioteer
and horses were killed and the chariot was smashed and he had to flee on foot
from the field. This completed the demorahsation of Duryodhana's army.
In
the attack on Kripa, Chekitana, losing his chariot and charioteer, alighted and
attacked Kripa's charioteer and horses with mace in hand and killed them.
Kripa also alighted,
and standing on the ground, discharged his arrows. Chekitana was badly hit. He
then whirled his mace and hurled it at Kripacharya, but the latter was able to intercept it with his own arrow.
Thereupon they closed
with each other, sword in hand. Both were wounded and fell on the ground, when
Bhima came and took Chekitana away in his chariot. Sakuni similarly took
wounded Kripa away in his car.
Ninety-six arrows of
Dhrishtaketu struck Bhurisravas. And the great warrior was like a sun radiating
glory, as the arrows, all sticking in his breast-plate, shone bright around his
radiant face. Even in that condition, he compelled Dhrishtaketu to admit defeat
and retire. Three of Duryodhana's
brothers attacked Abhimanyu who inflicted a heavy defeat on them but spared
their lives, because Bhima had sworn to kill them. Thereupon, Bhishma attacked
Abhimanyu.
Arjuna saw this and
said to his illustrious charioteer: "Krishna, drive the car towards
Bhishma."
At that moment, the
other Pandavas also joined Arjuna. But the grandsire was able to hold his own
against all five until the sunset, and the battle was suspended for the day.
And the warriors of both sides, weary and wounded, retired to their tents for
rest and for having their injuries attended to.
After this, for an
hour, soft music was played, soothing the warriors to their rest. That hour was
spent, says the poet, without a word about war or hatred. It was an hour of
heavenly bliss, and it was a glad sight to see. One can see herein what the
great lesson of the Mahabharata is.
WHEN the eighth day
dawned, Bhishma arrayed his army in tortoise formation. Yudhishthira said to
Dhrishtadyumna:
"See there, the
enemy is in kurma vyuha (tortoise formation). You have to answer at once with a
formation that can break it."
Dhrishtadyumna
immediately proceeded to his task. The Pandava forces were arrayed in a
three-pronged formation.
Bhima was at the head
of one prong, Satyaki of another, and Yudhishthira at the crest of the middle
division. Our ancestors had developed the science of war very well.
It was not reduced to
writing but was preserved by tradition in the families of kshatriyas. Armor and
tactics were employed suitably to meet the weapons of offence and the tactics
that the enemy used in those days.
The Kurukshetra battle
was fought some thousands of years ago. Reading the story of the battle in the
Mahabharata, we should not, having the practice and incidents of modern warfare
in mind, reject the Mahabharata narrative as mere myth with no relation to
fact.
Only about a century
and a half ago, the English admiral Nelson fought great sea battles and won
undying renown.
The weapons used and
the vessels that actually took part in Nelson's battles, would seem almost
weird and even ridiculous if compared with those of modern naval warfare.
If a hundred and fifty
years can make so much difference, we must be prepared for very strange things
in the procedure and events of a period, so long back as that of the
Mahabharata war.
Another matter to be
kept in mind is that we cannot expect, in the books of poets and literary
writers, accurate or full details about weapons and tactics, although the
narrative may be of battles.
Military affairs were
in ancient times the sole concern of the military order, the kshatriyas. Their
culture and their training were
entirely their own charge.
The principles and the
secrets of warfare and the science and art of the use of military weapons were
handed down from generation to generation by tradition and personal
instruction.
There were no military
textbooks and there was not any place for them in the works of poets and
rishis. If a modern novel deals in some chapters with the treatment and cure of
a sick person, we can not expect to see such details in it as might interest a
medical man. No author would care, even if he were able, to include scientific
details in his story.
So, we cannot hope to
find in the epic of Vyasa, precise details as to what is tortoise formation or
lotus formation. We have no explanation as to how one could, by discharging a
continuous stream of arrows, build a defence around himself or intercept and
cut missiles in transit, or how one could be living when pierced all over by
arrows, or how far the armor worn by the soldiers and officers could protect
them against missiles or what were the ambulance arrangements or how the dead
were disposed of.
All these things
appertaining to ancient war, however interesting, will have to be in the realm
of the unknown in spite of the vivid narrative we have in the Mahabharata epic.
Bhima killed eight of
Dhritarashtra's sons early in the battle that day. Duryodhana's heart lost
courage before this. It seemed to his friends as if Bhimasena would complete
his revenge this very day, even as he swore in the assembly ball, where the
great outrage was enacted.
Arjuna had a great
bereavement in this day's battle. His dear son Iravan was killed. This son of
Arjuna by his Naga wife had come and joined the Pandava forces at Kurukshetra.
Duryodhana sent his friend, the Rakshasa Alambasa, to oppose the Naga warrior.
Iravan was slain after
a fierce fight. When Arjuna heard this, he broke down completely. Said he
turning to Vasudeva: "Vidura had indeed told us plainly that both sides
would be plunged in grief unbearable. What are we doing all this wretched
destruction up on one another for? Just for the sake of property. After all
this killing, what joy are we or they likely to find in the end? O Madhusudana,
I now see why the far seeing Yudhishthira said he would be content if
Duryodhana would give five villages to us, keeping everything else to himself
and he would not resort to fighting if that were agreed to. Duryodhana, in his
obstinate folly, refused to give even these five villages and so, these great
sins have to be committed on both sides. I continue fighting only because men
would otherwise think me a coward, who could submit tamely to wrong. When I see
the dead warriors lying on the field, my heart is filled with unbearable
anguish. Oh, how wicked we are to carry on in this miserable, sinful way."
Seeing Iravan killed,
Ghatotkacha uttered a loud war-cry which made all the assembled soldiers
tremble. And with his division, he fell upon the Kaurava army ferociously. So
great was the destruction he wrought that at many points the Kaurava formation
was broken.
Seeing this, Duryodhana
personally led an attack on Bhima's son. The king of Vanga joined Duryodhana
with his elephants. Duryodhana fought most bravely on this eighth day of the
battle. He killed a great number of warriors on Ghatotkacha's side.
Ghatotkacha hurled a
javelin which would have ended Duryodhana's career but for the Vanga chief's
prompt intervention with one of his elephants.
The missile hit the
beast, which fell dead, and Duryodhana was saved.
Bhishma was anxious
about Duryodhana and sent a large force under Drona to support the Kaurava
prince.
Many were the veterans
who were in this force that attacked Ghatotkacha.
So tumultuous and
fierce was the fight at this sector of the battle that Yudhishthira feared for
Ghatotkacha's safety and sent Bhimasena to his aid.
Then the battle became
even fiercer than before. Sixteen of Duryodhana's brothers perished on this
day.
ON the morning of the
ninth day, before the battle began, Duryodhana was closeted with the grandsire.
He gave vent to his bitter feelings of disappointment over the way the battle
was going. He uttered words that were like the sharp spears and pained the
grandsire greatly but the latter was patient and said sadly:
"Like ghee on the
sacrificial fire I am pouring my life out for you. Why do you seek to mortify
me, who have been doing my very utmost for you? You speak like a man of no
understanding, not knowing what is right and what is wrong. They say that, when
a man is nearing his death, the tree appears to him to be made of gold. You see
things now, not as they are. Your vision is clouded. You are now reaping the
harvest of the hatred you deliberately sowed. The best course for you are to go
on fighting, as well as you can. This is also the plain path of duty. It is not
possible for me to fight Sikhandin, for I can never raise my hand against a
woman. Nor can I with my hands kill the Pandavas, for my mind revolts against
it. I will do everything barring these two and fight all the warriors opposed
to you. Nothing is gained by losing heart. Fight as a kshatriya should and
honor will be yours whatever the events."
Saying thus to
Duryodhana and cheering him up with wise and affectionate words, Bhishma
proceeded to issue instructions for arraying the forces for the day's battle.
Duryodhana was
heartened. He sent for Duhsasana and said to him: "Brother, put forth all
our strength in today's battle. I am convinced, the grandsire is fighting on
our side with his whole heart. It is only against Sikhandin, he says, he cannot
use his weapons. We should see that he is not exposed to Sikhandin's attacks,
for you know, even a wild dog can kill a lion if the latter scorns to fight
back."
There was a great fight
between Abhimanyu and Alambasa. Abhimanyu demonstrated that his valor was no
less than his illustrious father's. Alambasa had to flee on foot to save
himself.
There were fierce
combats between Satyaki and Aswatthama and between Drona and Arjuna.
Thereafter, all the Pandavas attacked the grandsire and Duryodhana sent
Duhsasana to support the old warrior. Bhishma fought furiously and beat the
Pandavas back.
The Pandava forces were
thoroughly demoralised and were flying hither and thither, like cattle that had
lost their way in the forest.
Krishna halted the
chariot and said to Arjuna: "Partha, you and your brothers were looking
forward to this day, after thirteen years. Do not hesitate to kill the
grandsire. Remember the duty of a soldier."
Arjuna bent his head
down and, without looking up, replied: "I would much rather have continued
to be an exile in the forest than kill the grandsire and the teachers whom I
love, but I shall obey you. Drive on."
Arjuna's heart was not
in the fight. Unwillingly and in great distress of mind, he proceeded to the
combat. Bhishma, on the other hand,
burnt fiercely like the noonday sun.
When the army saw
Arjuna's chariot proceed towards Bhishma, it regained courage and order once
again prevailed. Bhishma's arrows came thick and fast and covered the advancing
chariot so completely that neither horses nor vehicles could be seen.
Krishna was unperturbed
and drove on with circumspection and skill. Arjuna's shafts hit Bhishma's bow
and shattered it many times. But the grandsire went on renewing his weapon.
"You are not
fighting, Arjuna, as you should!" exclaimed Krishna, and jumped down in a
rage from the chariot and, taking up his discus, he advanced towards the
grandsire.
Bhishma saw Vasudeva
approaching.
"Hail, O
Lotus-eyed One!" he cried. "Blessed am I to be separated from the
body by you! Come, come!"
Arjuna jumped down from
the chariot and, rushing forward overtook and held Krishna, casting both his
arms around him. "Stop, Krishna," he cried. "Do not break your
pledge. You have promised not to use weapons in this battle. This is my work. I
shall not fail. I shall send my arrows and kill the beloved grandsire myself.
Pray, mount the car and take the reins."
Arjuna took Krishna
back and the battle was resumed. The Pandava forces had been handled roughly,
but now the sun was down in the west and the fighting ended for the day.
IT was the tenth day of
the battle. Keeping Sikhandin in front of him, Arjuna attacked Bhishma. When
Sikhandin's darts pierced his breast, sparks flew from the grandsire's eyes.
For a moment the old
warrior's anger rose like flaming fire and his eyes glared as if to consume
Sikhandin. But, at once, the grandsire restrained
himself.
He decided not to be
provoked into fighting Sikhandin, who was born a woman and to strike whom it
seemed unworthy of a warrior.
He knew, however, his
end was near and calmed himself. Sikhandin went on discharging his arrows, not
minding the battle of emotions in his opponent's mind.
Arjuna also steeled his
heart, and from behind Sikhandin aimed arrows at the weak points in Bhishma's
armor, even while the grandsire stood still.
Bhishma smiled as the
arrows continued to come down thick on him, and turning to Duhsasana, said:
"Ah, these are Arjuna's arrows! These cannot be Sikhandin's, for they burn
my flesh as the crab's young ones tear their mother's body."
Thus did the grandsire
look upon his dear pupil's arrows and, while saying this to Duhsasana, he took
up a javelin and hurled it at Arjuna. Arjuna met it with three arrows which cut
it to pieces even as it was speeding
through the air.
Bhishma then decided to
end the combat and made as if to dismount from his chariot, sword and shield in
hand. But before he could do so, his shield was cut to pieces by Arjuna's
arrows.
With arrows sticking
all over his body so thickly that there was not even an inch of intervening
space, Bhishma fell headlong to the ground from his chariot.
As he fell, the gods,
who looked on from above, folded their hands in reverent salutation and a
gentle breeze, laden with fragrance and cool raindrops, swept over the
battlefield.
Thus fell the great and
good Bhishma, the son of Ganga, who came on earth to hallow it and all it
bears.
The blameless hero who,
unasked, made the great renunciation to give joy to his father. The undefeated
bowman who had humbled the pride of Rama of the axe. The selfless worker for
righteousness' sake, thus repaid his debt to Duryodhana, and lay wounded to
death sanctifying with his life-blood the battlefield. As the grandsire fell,
the hearts of the Kauravas also fell along with him.
Bhishma's body did not
touch the ground, on account of the arrows sticking out all over his body. His
body shone more brightly than ever before, as it lay as on a bed of honor,
supported by the shafts that had pierced his flesh.
Both armies ceased
fighting and all the warriors came running and crowded round the great hero,
who lay on his bed of arrows. The kings of the earth stood with bowed heads
round him, as the gods round Brahma.
"My head hangs
down unsupported," said the grandsire. The princes who stood near, ran and
brought cushions. The old warrior rejected them with a smile and, turning
towards Arjuna said: "Dear son Partha, give me a cushion befitting a
warrior."
When Arjuna, whose
arrows were just then burning the grandsire's flesh, heard those words
addressed to him, he took three arrows from out of his quiver and so placed
them that the grandsire's head found
support on their points.
"Princes,"
said Bhishma addressing the assembled chiefs, "Arjuna's arrows were indeed
what my head required to be supported on. This pillow gives me satisfaction.
Now, I must lie thus until the sun turns north. My soul will not depart till
then. When I pass away, those of you who may be alive then may come and see
me."
Then the grandsire turned
again to Arjuna and said: "I am tormented with thirst. Get me some
drinking water." At once, Arjuna raised his bow, and drawing, it to the
ear, shot a shaft down into the earth near the grandsire on his right side.
Upon the opening made
by the arrow, there gushed a stream of pure sweet water to the very lips of the
dying man. Ganga came up, says the poet, to quench her dear son's burning
thirst. Bhishma drank and was happy.
"Duryodhana,
may you be wise!" said Bhishma, addressing the Kaurava prince. "Did
you see how Arjuna brought me water to quench my thirst? Who else in this world
can do such a deed? Make peace with him without further delay. May the war
cease with my exit. Listen to me, son, make peace with the Pandavas."
The grandsire's words
did not please Duryodhana. Even when dying, the patient does not like medicine.
He objects to the bitter taste. All the princes retired to their camps.
WHEN he learnt that
Bhishma lay wounded and dying, Karna hurried to the place and fell at his feet
and said:
"Eldest of the
race. Radha's son, who, through no fault of his, incurred your great
displeasure, humbly prostrates himself before you."
When after humble
salutation Karna stood up, the grandsire, greatly moved, tenderly placed his
hand on Karna's head and blessed him.
"You are not
Radha's son, young man," he said in loving tones: "You are
Kuntidevi's own first born. Narada, who knows all the secrets of the world,
himself revealed this to me. Son of Surya, truly I entertained no dislike for
you. But I was grieved to see your increasing hatred of the Pandavas although
they gave you no cause for it. I know and admire your valor and your open
handedness. And I know also that you belong to the class of Phalguna and
Krishna in prowess. It is proper that you befriend the Pandavas. Therein lies
the right path for you who are their brother. With the closing of my part in
this war, may the chapter of your enmity also close. This is my wish,
Karna."
Karna listened
respectfully and replied: "Grandsire I know I am Kunti's son, and not
charioteer born. But I have eaten Duryodhana's salt and must be true to him, to
be true to my own lineage. It is impossible for me to go over to the Pandavas
now. You must permit me to repay with my life, if it so be the debt I owe to
Duryodhana for his love and trust. I have erred greatly in word and deed. You
must forgive me for it all and give me your blessings."
The great acharya, who
knew all the laws of right conduct and what Karna said, replied: "Do
reflect for a while and then do as you wish, for that is the right way."
Even when Bhishma was
mortally wounded and lay dying, the battle did not cease. Discarding the
grandsire's words of wisdom, the Kauravas resumed the battle.
Deprived of Bhishma's
leadership, the Kaurava forces felt like sheep without a shepherd when Bhishma
no longer led them. Indeed, even as Bhishma fell wounded, the men shouted:
"O Karna, you are
the one left to lead and protect us."
The Kaurava warriors
felt that, if but Karna would agree to take up the command, victory was
certain. During the first ten days when Bhishma led the forces, the son of
Surya kept away from the battle.
As already narrated,
deeply hurt at the grandsire's contempt, Karna had said: "So long as you
are up fighting, I shall keep aloof. If you slay the Pandavas and bring victory
to Duryodhana, I shall be glad. And I shall then, taking the king's leave, go
to the forest. But, if you be defeated and go to the abode of the brave, I who
am not deemed by you as an adhiratha (master of chariot warfare) will ride my
chariot and oppose those whom you deem to be of greater prowess than myself.
And defeating them, bring victory to Duryodhana."
Thus had Karna sworn
and, with Duryodhana's consent, kept aloof from the battle during the first ten
days. Now he went on foot to Bhishma who lay on his bed of arrows waiting for
his end and, saluting him, addressed him thus:
"Veteran
grandsire, vanquisher of Parasurama, you lie on the field of battle, struck
down by Sikhandin. If you, who had reached the summit of right living and were
an embodiment of purity itself, must lie wounded in this manner, it is clear
that no one can attain in this world what he deserves by his merit. You were
the one boat on which the Kaurava princes depended for crossing the flood of
their troubles. Heavy indeed will be the blows that the Pandavas will now deal
at the Kauravas and great will be their consequent distress. Like fire and wind
burning down the forest, Arjuna and Krishna will destroy the army of Kauravas.
This is certain. Turn your gracious eyes on me and bless me, who have accepted
the command of the forces."
Bhishma gave his
blessings to Karna."You are like the good earth to the seeds, like rain
clouds to living beings, ever dependable, firm in your loyalty. Serve
Duryodhana and save him. You vanquished the Kambojas for him. You put down the
Kiratas of the Himalayan fastnesses for him. You fought the Girivrajas on his
behalf and defeated them. Many more things you have accomplished for him. Take
charge of the Kaurava army now as your own rich possession and guard it well.
May you lead Duryodhana's forces to success! May you have every good fortune!
Fight your enemies, go."
Karna, having received
the benediction of the grandsire, mounted his chariot and rode to the
battlefield. When the valorous Karna entered the field on his war chariot,
Duryodhana's joys knew no bounds. His sorrow, at having lost Bhishma, was in
some degree alleviated.
DURYODHANA and Karna
held counsel as to who should be put in supreme command of the forces.
"Well, everyone of
these princely warriors fighting on your side is great enough to be put in
charge of our forces as supreme commander," said Karna.
"All these kings
are of equal prowess, strength, energy, skill, courage, valor, ancestry and
wisdom. They cannot all be put in joint command and, if any of them be chosen,
each of the others would feel hurt and may not put forth his whole strength in
the cause. Thereby we stand to suffer. So, my advice is that we install
Dronacharya, the teacher of all these princes and warriors, as supreme
commander. He indeed is the greatest of all those that carry arms today. No
kshatriya equals him in the qualities required for leading our army. Let us
therefore install him."
Duryodhana agreed that
this was the right thing to do, and so it was decided.
Duryodhana
went to Dronacharya and, in the presence of the assembled warriors and princes,
bowed and addressed him:
"Revered Master,
you are unrivalled among all those assembled here in caste, ancestry, knowledge
of sciences, age, wisdom, valor and skill. I beg of you to accept the supreme
command. Under your command, this army will be victorious." The assembled
kings received this proposal with loud cheers and war cries that gladdened
Duryodhana's heart.
Drona was installed in
due form amidst thunderous acclamation. The praise of courtiers and the sound
of trumpets that accompanied the ceremony, made the Kauravas feel as though
they had already vanquished the enemy. So great was their enthusiasm and
confidence in Drona's leadership.
Drona
arrayed the army in circular formation. Karna, who had till then stood aside
was now seen moving about in his great chariot on the battlefield and this put
new courage and joy into the hearts of the Kaurava soldiers.
The talk went round in
the army that the great Bhishma did not wish to slay the sons of Pandu and
therefore had not put his whole heart in the fight. But now that Karna was in
the field, it was certain that the Pandavas would be destroyed.
Dronacharya was in
command for five days of the battle. Though of advanced years, he was
everywhere in the field and displayed the fierce energy of a young warrior.
Whenever he led an attack, the Pandava forces were scattered like clouds before
a storm.
He personally engaged
the greatest warriors on the Pandava side in battle. He fought Satyaki, Bhima,
Arjuna, Dhrishtadyumna, Abhimanyu, Drupada and Kasiraja and defeated them on
many occasions.
He harassed and
inflicted severe punishment on the Pandava army during the five days he was in
command.
76. To Seize Yudhishthira Alive
AS SOON AS Drona
assumed command of the Kaurava forces Duryodhana, Karna and Duhsasana sat in
council and decided on a plan. And Duryodhana went to Dronacharya to put it in
operation.
"Acharya, we
desire that you should capture Yudhishthira alive and give him over to us. We
desire nothing more, not even a total victory. If you achieve this for us, we
shall all be exceedingly satisfied with your conduct of the war."
When Drona heard Duryodhana
address him thus, great was his joy, for he hated the very idea of slaying the
Pandava brothers. Even though, to fulfil his obligation, the acharya loyally
joined the Kaurava side against the Pandavas, he loved the sons of Kunti and
especially the pure-minded Yudhishthira.
So,
when he heard Duryodhana request that Yudhishthira should be captured alive, he
felt greatly relieved.
"Duryodhana, may
you be blessed!" the acharya said. "Do you too wish to abstain from
killing Yudhishthira? How it gladdens my heart! Truly, Yudhishthira is one
without an enemy and the name Ajatasatru, which the people have given to
Kunti's eldest son, has been justified by your great decision. When even you
have made up your mind that he should not be killed but should be captured
alive, his unrivalled glory has become ten times enhanced."
"I see, dear
Duryodhana, what you intend," Drona continued. "You wish to defeat
the Pandavas in battle and then give them their share in the kingdom and live
in peace and amity with them. I see this clearly from your desire to capture
Yudhishthira alive."
Drona was exceedingly
glad and he said again: "Indeed Yudhishthira is the most fortunate man on
earth. The gods are showering their favors on Kunti's good son. So has he won
the hearts of even enemies."
But Duryodhana's
motives in wishing to take Yudhishthira alive were far different. And as soon
as Drona acceded to his proposal and gave his pledge that he would do his best
to capture Yudhishthira, he began to reveal his real intentions.
If Yudhishthira were
slain, nothing would be gained by it, and the anger of the Pandavas would be
all the greater. The battle would rage more fiercely than before. And
Duryodhana knew that it would only mean the utter defeat of his army.
Even if the fight were
to be continued relentlessly until both armies were destroyed, Krishna would
still remain alive and he would put either Draupadi or Kunti in sovereign
possession of the kingdom.
What then was the point
in killing Yudhishthira? On the other hand, if Yudhishthira was captured alive,
Duryodhana thought, the war would end more speedily and victoriously for the
Kauravas.
Thereafter, he could
surely play on Yudhishthira's goodness and his loyalty to the traditional code
of kshatriya conduct. It was pretty certain he could be drawn into the battle
of dice again and sent to the forests once more.
Ten days of fighting
had demonstrated to Duryodhana that further fighting would only result in the
destruction of the race, not the fulfilment of the desires.
When Duryodhana made
his motives clear to Drona, the acharya was greatly disappointed and he cursed
Duryodhana in his heart. But whatever the reason for it, he was glad that
Yudhishthira was not to be killed.
The news that Drona had
given a solemn assurance to Duryodhana that he would take Yudhishthir a
prisoner, was carried by their spies to the Pandava army.
The Pandavas knew that,
when the acharya was determined on something and gave his pledged word for
executing it, his unrivalled eminence in the art of war and his valor made it a
most serious affair.
So, they soon got busy
and so arrayed the forces that Yudhishthira was never left unsupported.
Whatever movements might take place, they always took care to leave sufficient
protection against any surprise attack on Yudhishthira.
In the first day's
battle under the leadership of Drona, the acharya amply demonstrated his great skill
and energy. He moved about destroying the Pandava forces like a fire burning up
dry logs. His rapid movements made the Pandava army feel as if Drona was
everywhere at the same time showering arrows like rain and converting the
battlefield into a stage for the dance of the God of Death. He cut the Pandava
army in twain where Dhrishtadyumna stood.
Many were the single
combats among renowned warriors. There was a fierce battle between Sahadeva and
Sakuni skilled in illusion warfare. When their chariots broke, they alighted on
the ground. And, like two hills sprung to life and motion, they struck each
other with maces and closed with one another in single combat. Between Bhima
and Vivimsati there was a great battle in which chariots were broken on both sides.
Salya fought his nephew Nakula and harassed him exceedingly, smiling most
provokingly all the time. But, in the end, Salya had his car smashed and his
flag brought down, and he withdrew admitting defeat. Between Kripacharya and
Dhrishtaketu there was a battle in which the latter was worsted.
So also was there
fierce fighting between Satyaki and Kritavarma and between Virata and Karna.
Abhimanyu's valor was also demonstrated as he fought Paurava, Kritavarma,
Jayadratha and Salya single-handed and made them withdraw.
Then there was a great
combat between Salya and Bhimasena in which Salya was defeated and made to
retire. The Kaurava forces began to lose courage and the Pandava army, who saw
this, attacked the Kaurava army with renewed energy and broke its ranks.
When Drona saw this, he decided to restore
lost morale by leading a straight attack on Yudhishthira. His golden chariot
went forward, drawn by four noble Sindhu horses, in the direction of
Yudhishthira. Yudhishthira answered with barbed arrows, feathered with
eagle-feathers. But Drona did not mind, and advanced at great speed.
Yudhishthira's bow was cut down and Drona was coming very near.
Dhrishtadyumna tried to
intercept Drona but in vain. The whole army shouted: "Yudhishthira has
been taken!" So near came Drona.
Suddenly, then, Arjuna
appeared on the battlefield, the earth rumbling under the wheels of his
chariot, as it coursed swiftly over the bloody field, over bones and bodies
lying in heaps. Drona held back, for Arjuna had come on the scene. From his
Gandiva bow issued a continuous stream of arrows. No one could see the shafts
taken out of the quiver or placed in position. It seemed as if, from out of the
great bow, an unending flood of arrows issued without intermission. The
battlefield was darkened by flying missiles.
Drona retreated.
Yudhishthira was not taken. The battle was stopped for the day and the Kaurava
forces went to their camp in chastened mood.
The Pandava army
marched proudly to camp and behind them walked Kesava (Krishna) and Arjuna
conversing. Thus closed the eleventh day of the battle.
THE attempt to capture
Yudhishthira alive failed. Drona was speaking to Duryodhana about this.
"It is clear we cannot succeed in our efforts to seize Yudhishthira so
long as Dhananjaya is nearby. It is no want of interest on my part. If by some
stratagem we could draw Arjuna away to some other part of the field, I could
pierce the Pandava formations and capture Yudhishthira. I promise to seize him
and deliver him to you provided he does not flee from the battle, renouncing
honor. If he does that, then also we win indeed, do we not?"
The chief of the
Trigartadesa who heard Drona say this talked it over with his brothers, and
they made a plan. They resolved to take the samsaptaka oath and challenge
Arjuna to battle and draw him away from Yudhishthira's side.
Accordingly, together
with a large force, they gathered, and sat before the fire, dressed in matted
grass, and went through funeral gifts and ceremonies for themselves as if
already dead, and took their oath: "Not till we have killed Dhananjaya
will we turn back. If we flee in fear from battle, may we be punished as for
deadly sin!"
Having adjured
themselves thus before the sacred fire, they marched south for that was the direction
of Death, and shouted "O Arjuna!" challenging him to battle.
It was a great suicide
squad organized to achieve what Drona had pointed out to be essential. Arjuna
turned to Yudhishthira and addressed him thus: "King, the samsaptakas are
calling me to battle. I am pledged to accept a challenge thus thrown out.
Susarma and his men are calling me to battle. I shall destroy them all and
return. Permit me to go."
"Brother
beloved," said Yudhishthira, "you know Drona's intentions. Keep that
in mind and do whatever you think fit. He has promised Duryodhana to take me
alive. He is a matchless warrior, brave, strong and skilled in, every branch of
archery. He knows no fatigue and nothing escapes his watchful eyes."
"King, here is
Satyajit, standing in support of you," replied Arjuna. "As long as he
is alive and by you, nothing can happen to you." So saying Arjuna asked
the Panchala prince Satyajit to stand guard by Yudhishthira's side and marched
off like a hungry lion to meet the samsaptakas.
"There, Krishna,
see the Trigartas standing, cheerful under the intoxication of their oath,
though they know they go to certain death. Indeed they are full of the
exultation of approaching swarga." So speaking to his great charioteer,
Arjuna approached the large samsaptaka force.
This was the Twelfth
Day of the great battle. It was a fierce fight. After a time, Arjuna's attack
began to tell and the Trigartas fell in swathes before him but Susarma reminded
them of their oath. "Heroes, we have taken our oaths before the fire and
in the presence of the whole army of warriors. Having sworn terrible resolves,
it is unworthy to flinch. Let us not fall into public ridicule." The
samsaptakas cheered their leader, and faced Arjuna with the sublime courage of
accepted deaths.
"Hrishikesa,
they are resolved on fighting to the last. Drive on," said Arjuna.
Driven by Madhusudana
(Krishna) Arjuna's chariot moved like Indra's car in the great war of the gods
against the asuras. It went here and it went there and wherever it went,
Arjuna's great bow, the Gandiva, scattered death among the doomed Trigartas.
The burst of blood in
their compct ranks was like the burst of Palasa blossoms in a springtime
forest. The fighting was severe. At one time Arjuna's car and flagpole were
immersed in darkness under the downpour of arrows.
"Are you alive,
Dhananjaya?" shouted Krishna.
"Yes,"
replied Arjuna, and pulling the string of his Gandiva, discharged shafts that
dispelled the arrow-shower. It was like the Rudra dance of dissolution. The
field was full of severed limbs and headless bodies and presented a terrible
spectacle.
As Arjuna proceeded to
oppose the samsaptakas, Drona gave orders for a violent assault on the Pandava
forces at the point where Yudhishthira stood.
Yudhishthira saw this
movement and spoke to the Panchala prince Dhrishtadyumna:
"The brahmana is
coming to seize me. Look after the forces with vigilance."
The son of Drupada did
not wait for Drona to advance but marched forward in his car himself to meet
Drona. Dronacharya avoided Dhrishtadyumna, for well he knew that his death was destined to be at his hands and
that death was not yet due. And he wheeled his chariot in another direction
where Drupada was leading his forces.
Drupada's forces
suffered heavy punishment at Drona's hands and blood flowed in streams on the
battlefield. Drona, then, again turned his attention to Yudhishthira. The
Pandavas stood firm and answered Drona's attacks with showers of arrows.
Satyajit made a charge
on Drona's car and there was a fierce combat in which Drona's figure assumed
the grimness of the Destroyer. Many a warrior was slain by him in succession.
Vrika, a prince of Panchala, as well as Satyajit, fell dead.
Seeing this, Satanika,
son of Virata, marched against Drona. In a moment, Satanika's severed head
rolled on the ground with the golden kundalas shining in the earlobes.
Ketama, another chief,
followed the attack but he too perished. Then, Vasudhana rushed forward to stop
the advance of Drona, but he too fell dead. Yudhamanyu, Satyaki, Sikhandin and Uttamaujas
who came to push Drona back, were repulsed and all these great warriors had to
retreat. Drona was now almost within reach of Yudhishthira.
At that moment,
Panchalya, another son of Drupada, rushed madly up to stop the acharya and
fought most desperately. But, he too was mortally wounded and fell from his
chariot like a failing star.
Then, Duryodhana was
delighted and said exultingly to Karna:
"Radheya, do you
see the valor of our mighty leader? No more will the Pandavas be inclined
towards battle. See how their army reels under Drona's blows."
Karna shook his head.
"Do not be so confident," he said. "The Pandavas are not to be
so easily vanquished. They will never surrender. The wrongs they have undergone
are too great to be forgotten. You tried to poison and kill them. You tried to
burn them alive. You have grieved and humiliated them at the game of dice and
you have forced them out to live in the forest for long years. They will not
surrender. See there, their army has rallied and all their forces are leading a
combined attack on Drona. There, see Bhima, Satyaki, Yudhamanyu, Kshatradharma,
Nakula, Uttamaujas, Drupada, Virata, Sikhandin. Dhrishtaketu and other warriors
have all come to protect Yudhishthira and are pressing Drona hard. We should not
stand idly watching, when we have put such a heavy burden on the acharya. Great
as he is, there is a limit to the load even he can carry. Even wolves combined
in large numbers can harass and kill a mighty elephant, Let us proceed. It will
not do any longer to leave Drona unsupported."
DRONA made many
attempts to take Yudhishthira prisoner, but failed. Duryodhana led a large
elephant division against Bhima. Bhima defended himself from his chariot with
well-aimed arrows.
He sent crescent-headed
shafts and tore down Duryodhana's flag and cut down his bow even as he held it
in his hand. Seeing the king harassed in this manner, the Mlechchha king Anga
marched against Bhimasena seated on a huge elephant.
But Bhima sent shafts
that laid the elephant low and killed the Mlechchha king, which resulted in
scattering that section of the Kaurava forces in fear and confusion. When the
elephants stampeded, the horses also took fright and thousands of footmen were
trampled under the feet of the elephants and the horses, flying in wild panic.
Seeing this great
confusion and the scattering of the Kaurava forces in all directions, the king
of Pragjyotisha, the brave Bhagadatta grew indignant.
He got up on his
renowned elephant Supratika and charged against Bhimasena. The gigantic beast
rushed forward with widespread ears and twirling trunk, crashed into
Bhimasena's chariot. And in an instant, horses and vehicle were an
unrecognizable mass. But Bhima escaped by jumping off the car in the nick of
time.
He knew all about
elephants. He got below the great and fierce elephant and showered blows on its
vital points. The great beast got mad and whirled round like a potter's wheel,
trying to throw off Bhimasena, who was sticking to its legs and attcking it
from below.
It bent down and caught
Bhima by its trunk and was about to crush him under its knees, when Vrikodara
somehow released himself from its hold and again got below, in between its
limbs and sticking to the elephant's under-regions, caused exceeding pain to
the beast.
Bhima was thus gaining
time in the hope that some elephant on the Pandava side would be led to attack
Bhagadatta's elephant and enable him to get away.
But, when Bhima
disappeared from view, being hidden in between the beast's legs, the soldiers
thought Bhima was slain. They exclaimed: "Bhima is dead! Bhagadatta's
elephant has crushed Bhimasena!" and the cry was repeated all over
Kurukshetra.
Yudhishthira heard the
cry and, thinking Bhima was slain, urged the forces to destroy Bhagadatta. The
king of Dasarna charged against Bhagadatta. Dasarna's elephant was also a
fierce beast and there was great battle between Supratika and Dasarna's
elephant.
But Supratika's tusk
pierced Dasarna's beast in the side and it crashed down dead. At that moment,
Bhima emerged from below Supratika and ran out safe. And the Pandava army
cheered when they saw Bhima alive.
Bhagadatta was now
attacked on all sides, but he did not lose heart. Resplendent on his elephant,
he shone like a forest fire on a hill. Ignoring the enemies around him, he
drove his beast on Satyaki's chariot.
The elephant seized the
chariot with its great trunk and lifting it high dashed it upside down. Satyaki
jumped out of the chariot in time to save himself.
His charioteer
displayed great agility and skill and saved the vehicle as well as the horses,
and righting the chariot, drove it to where Satyaki stood.
Bhagadatta's elephant
wrought great havoc in the Pandava army, hurling warriors about and killing
them in great number, striking terror wherever it went. Bhagadatta stood on its
back, like Indra on Airavata when he fought the asuras.
With ears spread out
rigid in anger and trunk extended in front, the great beast trampled upon
numerous horses, chariots and soldiers and wrought destruction all over the
Pandava army. The shafts hurled at it seemed only to incense it more.
Like a herdsman in the
forest driving the cattle where he would, Bhagadatta drove the soldiers of the
Pandava army before him. Bhimasena, equipping himself once again with a
chariot, renewed his attack on Bhagadatta.
The elephant stretched
out its trunk and blew out a violent spray of mucus that scared the horses of
Bhima's chariot and they bolted in wild flight and the charioteer could not
check them.
A great cloud of dust
rose from the field where this great elephant battle raged. Arjuna saw this
from where he was fighting the
samsaptakas and he also heard the tumult created by Bhagadatta's elephant.
He feared things had
gone wrong and said to Krishna: "Madhusudana, this is the cry of
Supratika, Bhagadatta's elephant. This king of Pragjyotisha is terrible with
his elephant, and has no equal in that kind of warfare. He is sure to defeat
and confound our men. We must proceed at once and save the situation. We have
punished these samsaptakas enough. Drive to where Drona is engaging
Yudhishthira." Krishna drove the chariot accordingly towards the main
battlefront.
Susarma and his
brothers came up behind the chariot and shouted "Stop, stop." At the
same time, they discharged shafts at Arjuna's chariot.
Arjuna was of two
minds.
"Here is Susarma
challenging me to battle and I hated declining this kind of invitation, but
there, to the north of us, our formation seems broken and our men are in need
of immediate relief."
While Arjuna was
pondering thus, a javelin came hurtling at Arjuna and another towards Janardana.
Wild with anger, Arjuna sent three well-aimed shafts, which compelled Susarma
to turn back.
They lost no more time
but drove quickly to where Bhagadatta was doing havoc. As soon as Arjuna's car
was seen, the Pandava forces rallied and soon Arjuna reached the lines where
Bhagadatta was.
Bhagadatta
attacked Arjuna on Supratika like the Destroyer incarnate. But Vasudeva's skill
avoided the shock, each time the beast charged.
Bhagadatta showered
arrows on Arjuna and Krishna. But Arjuna's arrows broke the elephant's armor
and began to hurt the beast. Bhagadatta saw that his elephant could no longer
stand the attack and he hurled a javelin at Krishna.
Arjuna met it with a
shaft from his bow and broke it into two. Bhagadatta then discharged another
javelin that struck Dhananjaya's helmet.
Readjusting his helmet,
Arjuna bent his bow exclaiming: "Bhagadatta, take your last look at the
world and prepare for death!"
Bhagadatta was a
veteran of very advanced age. His grey hair and the wrinkles on his noble old
face gave him the intrepid appearance of a lion. Indeed, so old was he that the
skin hung loose down over his eyes and he had tied its folds over his forehead with
a silk kerchief so that they might not interfere with his sight.
Bhagadatta was not more
renowned for valor than for purity of character and conduct and was one of the
most illustrious among the brave men of his time. Men gave him the title
'Friend of Indra' in recognition of his greatness.
"Look around for
the last time," said Arjuna to this great man and hurled at him shafts
that broke his bow, shattered his quiver and pierced the joints of his armor.
In those days, all
warriors wore heavy armor and the secret of hitting weak points such as joints
and moving parts was specially studied by kshatriyas and was an important part
of military training.
When deprived of all
his weapons, Bhagadatta hurled his elephant goad at Arjuna. It was sent with
deadly aim and charged with the Vaishnava mantra.
It would have killed
Arjuna, but Krishna came in between and presented himself as a target for the
missile. It settled on his chest as a shining necklace.
Charged with the mantra
of Vishnu, it could not hurt Vishnu but just became the Lord's jewelled garland
round his neck.
"Janardana, how is
it you have offered yourself as a target for the enemy's missile? You said you
would be charioteer and leave all the fighting to me. How could you do
this?" protested Arjuna.
"Beloved Arjuna,
you do not understand. This shaft would have killed you if it had hit you. But
it is really my own thing and came back to its lawful owner," Krishna said
and laughed. Then, Partha sent an arrow that entered the head of Bhagadatta's
elephant as a serpent enters into the anthill.
Bhagadatta tried to
urge his great beast forward, but it stood stark rigid. And his loud command
went in vain even as the words of man, who has lost his wealth, are disregarded
by his wife.
Like a great hill the elephant
stood rigid for a moment and then it suddenly sank down driving its tusks into
the earth and yielded up the ghost with an agonised squeal.
Arjuna was somewhat
grieved at the death of the noble animal and for his not having been able to
slay Bhagadatta, without killing the beast.
Arjuna's shafts tore
the silken napkin that bound up the folds of the aged king's forehead and he
was blinded at once by his own hanging wrinkles.
Soon, a sharp
crescent-headed shaft came and pierced his chest. And Bhagadatta fell like a
great tree in a storm, his golden necklace shining like flowers on the uprooted
tree. The Kaurava forces fell into utter confusion.
Sakuni's brothers
Vrisha and Achala tried their best to oppose Arjuna and attacked him in front
and rear. But their chariots were soon dashed to pieces and they were
themselves stricken dead on the field like two lion cubs. They both looked much
alike and equally noble in appearance. The poet says that the bodies of these
two valiant heroes who did not flee when the rest fled, shed a strange lustre
all around. Sakuni was full of anger when he saw his brave and incomparable
brothers lying dead on the field.
He attacked Arjuna
fiercely and used all the weapons of illusion, in which he was skilled. But
Arjuna's strokes broke all the charms and rendered them useless. And Sakuni had
to leave the field, as fast as his horses could bear him.
The Pandava forces then
attacked Drona's army and wrought great havoc till the sunset, and the twelfth
day's fight ended. Drona gave orders to cease fighting and the Kaurava forces,
which had lost heavily, retired in sullen dejection to their camp.
The Pandava army, on
the other band, was in high spirits and its warriors gathered round campfires
in cheerful talk and praise of Arjuna and the other heroes, who had led them to
victory.
EARLY next morning,
Duryodhana went to Dronacharya in a state of bitterness and anger. After the
customary salutation, he addressed him thus in the presence of a large number
of generals:
"Esteemed
brahmana, Yudhishthira was quite within your reach yesterday and, if you had
really wished to take him no one could have prevented you. Yet, you did not
take him, and to me the events of yesterday are inexplicable. I cannot
understand what makes it hard for you to carry out your promise to me. Verily
great men are not understandable."
Dronacharya was
exceedingly hurt by this insulting insinuation.
"Duryodhana,"
he said, "I am putting forth on your be half all the strength and skill I possess. You entertain
thoughts unworthy of a king. As long as Arjuna is present, supporting
Yudhishthira, it is not possible for us to seize him. I have told you that
already. It is only if we manage some how to get Arjuna out of the battlefield
that we can hope to carry out this plan as you desire. And I am devising ways
to attain this objective."
Thus did Drona nobly
conquer his just anger and seek to comfort Duryodhana in his distress.
On the thirteenth day,
the samsaptakas again challenged Arjuna to battle and he accordingly went to
attack them, where they were arrayed to the south of the main battlefront. The
battle that was fought between the samsaptakas and Arjuna was the fiercest that
ever had been seen or heard of till that day.
When
Dhananjaya left the main front for meeting the samsaptakas, Drona rearranged
his army in lotus formation and attacked Yudhishthira fiercely.
Bhima, Satyaki,
Chekitana, Dhrishtadyumna, Kuntibhoja, Drupada, Ghatotkacha, Yudhamanyu,
Sikhandin, Uttamaujas, Virata, the Kekayas, Srinjayas and many others opposed
him. But their resistance seemed paralysed by the violence of Drona's
offensive.
Abhimanyu, son of
Arjuna and Subhadra, was still adolescent, but had already won recognition as a
mighty man-at arms even as the equal of his father and uncle in battle.
Yudhishthira called Abhimanyu and said to him:
"Dear
son, Dronacharya is attacking our army greatly. Arjuna is absent and, if we
should be defeated in his absence, he will be grieved beyond measure. No one
among us has been able to break Drona's array. You know you can do it and no
one else. I ask you to take up this task."
"I can do
it," replied Abhimanyu. "I have been instructed by my father how to
penetrate this formation and can certainly do so. But if after forcing my way,
it should unfortunately become necessary for me to come out, I shall be at a
loss what to do, being as yet uninstructed in the art of extrication."
"Valiant boy,
break this impregnable formation and open a passage for us. We shall all break
in your wake. We shall be with you to face any danger and no question can arise
of your having to come out."
Bhimasena supported
Yudhishthira's proposal: "I shall be immediately behind you and enter when
you succeed in breaking the enemy's formation. So also will Dhrishtadyumna,
Satyaki, the Panchalas, the Kekayas and the forces of Matsyadesa. Only break
the formation as you alone can do. We shall do the rest and smash the Kaurava
army."
Abhimanyu thought of
his father and Krishna. Feeling encouraged by what had been said by Bhimasena
and Yudhishthira, and impelled by his own gallant nature, undertook the
adventure.
"I shall please my
great father and uncle," he said with enthusiasm. "Let my valor be
staked on this."
"May your prowess
grow," said Yudhishthira and blessed the youth.
"Sumitra, see
Drona's flag flying there! Drive straight and fast to that point," said
Abhimanyu to his charioteer.
"Faster,
faster!" urged Abhimanyu as they sped along.
"May the gods
protect you!" said the charioteer. "Yudhishthira has placed a very
great burden on your young shoulders. Think well before you pierce Drona's
array and enter. The acharya is unrivalled in skill and experience, while you,
though his equal in valor, have not his long years to back it."
Abhimanyu smiled and
replied: "Friend, I am Krishna's nephew and son of Arjuna, am I not? Which
other has that advantage? Fear dares not approach me! These enemies here have
not a sixteenth part of my strength. Drive fast towards Drona's division. Do
not hesitate."
The charioteer obeyed.
As the golden chariot
to which were yoked beautiful young horses approached, the soldiers in the
Kaurava army shouted: "Abhimanyu is corning! He has come!" The
Pandavas followed Abhimanyu close behind him.
The Kaurava warriors
were perturbed as they saw Abhimanyu's chariot approach them with great speed.
"Here
is one greater in valor than Arjuna," they thought and began to lose
heart.
Like a young lion on a
herd of elephants, Abhimanyu rushed on. There was a ripple in the Kaurava ranks
which bent under his headlong onslaught.
The bend soon became a
break and under Drona's very eyes, the formation was breached and Abhimanyu
entered. But the breach closed under the inspiration of Jayadratha, king of the
Sindhus, before the other Pandava warriors could force their way in according
to plan and Abhimanyu was alone!
Kaurava warriors
opposed him, but they fell like moths in the fire, one after another.
Abhimanyu's shafts searched the weak points in the armor of his enemies. And
the bodies of soldiers lay strewn on the field like Kusa grass on the
sacrificial platform.
Bows, arrows, swords,
shields, javelins, pieces of harness, chaiot canopies, axes, maces, spears,
whips, conchs, along with severed heads and limbs of slain warriors, covered
the field.
Seeing the destruction
wrought by Abhimanyu, Duryodhana was wroth and rushed in person to oppose the
youthful warrior. Drona, having leant that the king himself was engaged in
battle with Abhimanyu, became anxious and sent veterans to protect Duryodhana.
With great difficulty,
they managed to rescue the king from the boy-hero who greatly disappointed at
the escape of Duryodhana, vented his anger on the warriors that had come to
rescue him and put them to headlong flight.
Then, throwing away all
sense of shame and chivalry, a large number of veteran warriors made a combined
and simultaneous attack on the hero, who found himself alone, surrounded by
enemies on all sides. But, even as on all sides a rock receives the rising tide
of the sea, Arjuna's son withstood this united ouslaught.
Drona, Aswatthama,
Kripa, Karna, Sakuni, Salya and many other great warriors in their chariots,
equipped with all arms, surged in attack on the young hero, only to be dashed
back, baffled and broken.
Asmaka rode his chariot
at great speed against Abhimanyu's. But smiling, Abhimanyu sent his shafts and
disposed of him in no time. Karna's armor was pierced.
Salya was badly wounded
and sat, unable to move, in his chariot. Salya's brother came up in great wrath
to avenge his brother's disgrace but he fell and his chariot was broken to
pieces.
Thus did Abhimanyu,
alone and unsupported, oppose a host of veteran warriors and show the skill in
the use of arms which he had learnt from his illustrious father and from
Vasudeva, his uncle. Seeing this, the poet says, Dronacharya's eyes were filled
with tears of affectionate admiration.
"Was there ever a
fighter to equal this boy Abhimanyu?" exclaimed Drona to Kripa, in the
hearing of Duryodhana who could not contain his anger.
"The acharya's
partiality for Arjuna prevents him from killing Abhimanyu," Duryodhana
said, "and he sings his praises instead of fighting him. Indeed, if the
acharya were minded to dispose of Abhimanyu, would it take him long to do it!"
Often did Duryodhana
suspect and complain in this manner against Bhishma and Drona. Having
undertaken a war of adharma, he was often led to speak in this manner and hurt
the feelings of the acharyas who stood loyally by him, even when they saw the
wickedness of his ways.
Duhsasana roared in
anger and exclaiming: "This obstinate lad will perish now!" led his
chariot forward to attack Abhimanyu. The chariots of Abhimanyu and Duhsasana
made wonderful movement against each other and the battle raged long.
Duhsasana was struck
senseless in his car, and his charioteer just managed to drive away from the
field saving Duhsasana's life. Karna attacked Abhimanyu with his shafts and
harassed him greatly.
But one of Abhimanyu's
arrows felled Karna's bow and the young warrior followed up this advantage so
vigorously that he put Karna and his supporters to flight. The Kaurava forces,
when they saw this, were completely demoralised.
The army was in
confusion and men fled in all directions, not caring for Drona's shouts of remonstrance.
And Abhimanyu destroyed those that stood, as fire destroys a dry jungle in
summer.
THE Pandavas,
proceeding according to plan, had closely followed Abhimanyu when he broke into
the Kaurava formation. But Dhritarashtra's son-in-law Jayadratha, the gallant
king of the Sindhus, swooped down upon the Pandavas with all his forces and
enabled the breach in the formation to be effectively and solidly closed up, so
that the Pandavas found it impossible to force their way in.
Yudhishthira hurled a
javelin and cut Jayadratha's bow. But in an instant, the Saindhava took up
another bow and sent unerring shafts at Dharmaputra.
Bhimasena's arrows made
deadly work, crashing down the canopy and flagstaff of Jayadratha's car. But
the Saindhava, was alert and rearmed himself, each time his equipment was
broken. He killed Bhima's chariot horses, and the latter had to go into
Satyaki's car.
In this manner,
Jayadratha, with stubborn valor, prevented the Pandavas from entering in
Abhimanyu's wake. The young hero was thus isolated and surrounded by the
Kaurava forces.
The son of Subhadra was
however undaunted. He attacked all the warriors around him and slew them in
great number. Like rivers losing themselves in the ocean, the soldiers that
went to attack him, disappeared before his arrows. The Kaurava army reeled
under Abhimanyu's onslaughts.
Duryodhana's son
Lakshmana, a gallant young warrior, then charged on Abhimanyu. When they saw
this, retreating soldiers came back and supported Lakshmana, showering arrows
on Abhimanyu, like rain falling on a hill.
Still, Arjuna's son was
undaunted and, his shaft came swift and shining, like a serpent fresh-sloughed,
and pierced Lakshmana. The handsome youth, with beautiful nose and eyebrows and
hair, lay dead on the field and the Kaurava soldiers were filled with grief.
"To hell with the
wicked Abhimanyu," shouted Duryodhana, and the six great warriors, Dorna,
Kripa, Karna, Aswatthama, Brihatbala and Kritavarma closed upon Abhimanyu.
"It is impossible
to pierce this youth's armor," said Drona to Karna. "Aim at the reins
of his horses and cut them off. Disable him thus and attack him from
behind."
The son of Surya did
accordingly. Abhimanyu's bow was broken by a shaft discharged from behind. His
horses and charioteer were killed. Thus disabled, the young warrior stood on
the field, with sword and shield, facing his enemies.
As he stood dauntless
like kshatriya dharma incarnate, he filled the warriors around with amazement.
Whirling his sword, he held his own against the numerous warriors who had
surrounded him, with a skill that confounded them.
It seemed to them as if
his feet did not rest on earth and he was on wings, in the air. Drona sent a
shaft that broke Abhimanyu's sword. Karna's sharp arrows tore his shield into
bits.
Then Abhimanyu bent
down and taking up one of his chariot wheels and whirling it like a discus,
stood up facing all the enemies that surrounded him.
The dust from the
chariot wheel covered him and the poet says it enhanced the natural beauty of the young hero. He fought fiercely
like a second Vishnu with the
discus.
But soon, the combined
onslaught of the warriors that surrounded him overpowered him. The chariot
wheel was shattered to pieces. The son of Duhsasana came up then and closed
with him in mortal combat.
Both went down together
but Duhsasana's son rose again and, while Abhimanyu was struggling to his feet,
struck him with his mace and killed him.
"Subhadra's son
who, like an elephant in a lily pond, single-handed worked havoc in the Kaurava
army, was thus overpowered by numbers and killed cruelly," said Sanjaya to
Dhritarashtra.
"And, having
killed him, your people danced around his dead body like savage hunters
exulting over their prey. All good men in the army were grieved and tears
rolled from their eyes. Even the birds of prey, that circled overhead making
noises seemed to cry 'Not thus!' 'Not thus!' "
While there was blowing
of conchs and cries of victory all over the Kaurava army, Yuyutsu, the son of
Dhritarashtra, did not approve of all this. "This is ignoble," he
angrily cried.
"Soldiers, you
have forgotten your code. Verily, you should be ashamed but, instead, you shout
brazen cries of victory. Having committed a most wicked deed, you revel in foolish
joy, blind to the danger that is imminent."
So saying, Yuyutsu
threw his weapon away in disgust and left the battlefield. This young son of
Dhritarashtra feared sin. His words were not sweet in the Kaurava ears, but he
was a good man and spoke out his mind.
YUDHISHTHIRA was
plunged in sorrow. "He has gone to the sleep that knows no waking, he who
in battle overcame Drona, Aswatthama and Duryodhana and who was like a
destroying fire to enemy forces. O warrior that made Duhsasana flee in fear,
are you dead? What then is there for me to fight for or win? Why do we want
kingdom now? What words of comfort can I offer to Arjuna? And what shall I say
to Subhadra, quivering like a cow bereaved of her calf? How can I utter to them
vain words of solace that serve no purpose? Truly, ambition destroys the
understanding of men. Like the fool who, looking for honey, falls into a
precipitous pit below and is destroyed, in my desire for victory I pushed to
the battlefront this boy, whose life was all before him in love and joy. There
is no fool like me in the world. I have killed Arjuna's beloved son, instead of
protecting him during the absence of his father."
Thus was Yudhishthira
lamenting in histent. Around him were sitting warriors, silent in sorrowful
thought of the valor of the youthful hero and his cruel death. It was always
the custom with Vyasa to come and comfort the Pandavas, whenever they were in
great sorrow.
He was their great
teacher as well as grandsire. So he appeared now before Yudhishthira. The sage
was received with all honor and Yudhishthira, having made him sit, said:
"I have tried very hard to find peace of mind, but I am unable to find
it."
"You are wise and
a knower," said Vyasa, "and it is not meet that you should allow yourself
to be lost in grief in this manner. Knowing the nature of death, it is not
right that you should grieve like the unlearned."
Vyasa proceeded to
console the bereaved Dharmaputra: "When
Brahma created living beings, he was filled with anxiety. These lives will
multiply and soon their number will be beyond the capacity of the earth to
bear. There seems to be no way of coping with this. This thought of Brahma grew
into a flame which became bigger and bigger until it threatened to destroy all
creation at once. Then Rudra came and pleaded for allaying this destructive
fire. Brahma controlled the great fire and subdued it into the law that is
known to mortals as Death. This law of the creator takes many forms, such as
war or sickness or accident and keeps the balance between birth and death.
Death is thus an inescapable law of existence, ordained for the good of the
world. It is not true wisdom to be impatient with Death or to grieve
immoderately for those who die. There is no reason to pity those who pass away.
We may have reason indeed to grieve for those who remain." After saying
these words of solace, Krishna Dwaipayana retired.
Dhananjaya and Krishna
were proceeding towards their camp after defeating and slaying the samsaptakas.
"Govinda, I do not
know why," said Arjuna, "but my mind is not at ease. My mouth feels
parched and my heart is troubled with a great foreboding of loss. I wonder if
any calamity has happened to Yudhishthira. Something makes me afraid,
Krishna."
"Do not be
concerned about Yudhishthira," replied Krishna."He and your other
brothers are safe." On the way, they halted and did the evening prayers.
Remounting the chariot, they proceeded to the camp. As they approached the
camp, Arjuna's premonitions of calamity increased.
"Janardana, we do
not hear the usual auspicious music in the camp. The soldiers, seeing me from a
distance, hang down their heads and avoid my sight. This is strange behavior on
their part. O Madhava, I fear greatly. Do you think my brothers are safe? I am
confused. How is it Abhimanyu does not run out to meet us today as usual,
accompanied by his brothers?"
They entered the camp.
"Why are you all
wearing sad faces? I do not see Abhimanyu here. How is it I see no glad faces?
I understood that Drona arrayed his
army in the lotus formation. No one among you could pierce it as far as I know.
Did Abhimanyu force his way in? If so, he is dead, for I did not teach him how
to make his way out of that formation. Has he been slain indeed?"
When their mournful
silence, and downcast eyes, that dared not meet his, had confirmed his worst
fears, the bereaved father burst into heart-broken lamentation.
"Alas, has my dear
boy indeed become Yama's guest? Yudhishthira, Bhimasena, Dhrishtadyumna and
great Satyaki have all of you allowed the son of Subhadra to be slain by the
enemy? Alas! What comfort shall I give to Subhadra? What shall. I say to
Draupadi? And what solace can be given to Uttara and who shall give it?"
Vasudeva spoke to his
stricken friend. "Beloved Arjuna," he said, "do not give way
thus to grief. Born as kshatriyas we have to live and die by weapons. Death is
ever the companion of those who have taken up the profession of arms and go
into battle, determined not to retreat. Warriors must be ever ready to die
young. Abhimanyu, boy as he was, has attained the happy regions above which
grey haired veterans yearn to reach
in battle. Abhimanyu's end is indeed the prescribed and much desired goal of
all kshatriyas. If you give way to grief in this inordinate way, your brothers
and other kings will lose heart. Stop grieving and infuse courage and fortitude
into the hearts of the others,"
Dhananjaya desired to
be told the full story of his brave son's end and Yudhishthira related it:
"I incited Abhimanyu to enter the enemy's formation. For I knew that he
alone could do it among all of us. 'Make your way into the lotus array and we
shall follow immediately behind you. This great deed of yours will please the
hearts of your father and your uncle,' I said. The youthful hero did accordingly
and broke the great formation and made his way in. We went behind him according
to plan. But, just then, the wicked Jayadratha came and effectively stopped us.
He caused the breach in the formation to be closed up at once and we found
ourselves unable to follow Abhimanyu. The Sindhu kept us out, and then, Oh,
shame on kshatriyas who could do this! A crowd of redoubtable warriors hemmed
him in, thus isolated, and slew him."
When he heard the full
story, Arjuna was again over whelmed by grief and he fell on the ground in a
swoon.
When he recovered, he
took an oath: "Before sunset tomorrow, I shall slay this Jayadratha who
caused my son's death. If Drona and Kripa come between him and me these
acharyas also shall be overwhelmed and slain!"
Saying this, he twanged
the Gandiva string, and Krishna blew the Panchajanya. And Bhima said:
"This twang of
Arjuna's bow and this blare of Krishna's conch shall be, unto the sons of
Dhritarashtra, the summons of Death!"
NEWS of Arjuna's oath
reached the enemy. The spies informed Duryodhana's friends that Arjuna, having
learnt that Jayadratha was the cause of Abhimanyu's death, had vowed to kill
the Sindhu king before sunset next day.
Vriddhakshatra, the
illustrious king of the Sindhus, was blessed with a son, who was named
Jayadratha. At the time of the birth of the prince, a voice was heard to say:
"This prince will attain great glory and he will attain the happy regions
above, slain in battle. One who, among the warriors of all ages, ranks among
the most illustrious will, in the field of battle, sever his head from the
body."
All living beings must
die but hardly any, however wise or brave, welcome it. Vriddhakshatra was
grieved to hear the voice declare his son's end.
In his disturbed state
of mind, he uttered a curse: "He, who shall cause my son's head to roll
down on the ground, shall have his head burst at that very moment into
fragments."
Jayadratha grew up and,
when he reached manhood, Vriddhakshatra handed over the care of the State to
the prince. He retired to the forest, where he spent the evening of his days in
austerities in an ashrama near the plain, which afterwards became the
Kurukshetra field of battle.
When Jayadratha came to
know about Arjuna's vow, he remembered the prediction about his death and
feared his end was near.
"I do not want to
be in this battle any longer. Let me go back to my country," he said to
Duryodhana.
"Do not fear,
Saindhava," replied Duryodhana. "Here are all these veterans and
warriors who will stand between you and danger. Karna, Chitrasena, Vivimsati,
Bhurisravas, Salya, Vrishasena, Purumitra, Jaya, Bhoja, Kamboja, Sudakshina,
Satyavrata, Vikarna, Durmukha, Duhsasana, Subahu, Kalinga, the Avanti princes,
Drona, Drona's illustrious son and Sakuni all these warriors and I myself are
here and you cannot be in danger. The whole of my army will have but one task
today, to defend you against Arjuna. You should not leave us now."
Jayadratha agreed to remain. He went to Drona and said to him:
"Master, you
taught me and Arjuna and you know us both well. What is your appraisal of us
two?"
"Son, I discharged
my duties as teacher and dealt with you both impartially. The instruction was
the same to you and to Arjuna, but Arjuna excels because of his superior discipline
and his own practice. But, you need not be discouraged by this. You will be
placed behind a strong force that Arjuna cannot easily pierce. Fight according
to the tradition of your ancestors. Death comes to us all, cowards as well as
brave men. And the warrior dying in battle attains with ease the happy regions
which others only attain with great difficulty. Discard fear and fight."
Drona, having spoken
thus to Jayadratha, proceeded to marshal the forces for the next day. Twelve
miles to the rear of the main army Jayadratha and his detachment were placed in
a strongly guarded position.
Bhurisravas, Karna,
Aswatthama, Salya, Vrishasena and Kripa were there with all their forces.
Between them and the Pandava army, Dronacharya arrayed the main Kaurava forces
in circular formation.
Durmarshana's army was
beaten. Like clouds driven about by a gale, the Kaurava forces were scattered
and fled in all directions. When Duhsasana saw this, his anger rose.
Leading a huge force of
elephants he surrounded Arjuna. Duhsasana was a very wicked man but he was
brave also. He fought Arjuna fiercely and the field was strewn with the dead.
Finally, he withdrew defeated and went back to join Drona's forces.
Savyasachi's car
swiftly proceeded forward and passed Drona. "Illustrious one, grieving for
my son, I have come to wreak vengeance on the Sindhu king. I crave your
blessings for the fulfilment of my vow," said Arjuna to the acharya.
The acharya smiled and
said: "Arjuna, you must first fight and defeat me before you can reach
Jayadratha." Saying this Drona discharged a shower of arrows on Arjuna's
car. Partha also replied with his arrows but these the acharya parried with
ease and sent flaming shafts that hit Krishna and Arjuna.
The Pandava then
decided to cut Drona's bow and bent his Gandiva for that purpose. Even as he
was pulling his bowstring Drona's shaft came and cut the string.
The acharya, still
retaining the smile on his face, rained a shower of arrows on Arjuna and his
horses and chariot. Arjuna fought back, but the acharya showered his arrows
that covered Arjuna and his chariot in darkness.
Krishna saw things were
not going at all well and said: "Partha, no more waste of time. Let us
proceed. It is no use fighting this brahmana, who seems to know no fatigue."
Saying this, Krishna drove Arjuna's chariot to the left of the acharya and
proceeded forward.
"Stop,
surely you will not proceed without defeating your enemy," said Drona.
"You are my guru,
not my enemy, O acharya. I am in the position of a son to you. There is no one
in the wide world that can defeat you," said Arjuna and they proceeded
forward at a swift pace bypassing Drona.
Then Arjuna pierced the
Bhoja army. Kritavarma and Sudakshina who opposed his passage were defeated.
Srutayudha also tried to stop Arjuna's progress. There was a fierce battle in
which Srutayudha lost his horses and he hurled his mace at Krishna.
His mother had obtained
this mace as a result of her offering but the condition attached to the boon
operated and it came back and struck Srutayudha himself dead. This is the story
of the mace.
Parnasa went through
penances that pleased Varuna and obtained from that god a boon that her son
Srutayudha may not be killed by any enemy.
"I shall give your
son a divine weapon. Let him use it in all his battles. No enemy will be able
to defeat him or kill him. But he should not use the weapon against one who
does not fight. If he does, the weapon will recoil and kill him. Saying this,
god Varuna gave a mace. Srutayudha, when fighting Arjuna, disregarding the
injunction, hurled the mace at Krishna who was not fighting but was only
driving Arjuna's chariot.
The missile hit
Janardana's chest and immediately rebounded
fiercely back to Srutayudha. And like a demon recoiling fatally on the
magician, that commits an error in uttering the spell of power that holds it in thrall, it slew Srutayudha and
laid him dead on the field, like a great forest tree blown down by a storm.
Then the king of
Kamboja led his forces against Arjuna. After a fierce fight, he lay stretched
dead on the field like a great flagstaff after the festival is over.
When they saw the
strong warriors, Srutayudha and the king of Kamboja, slain, the Kaurava force
was in great confusion.
Srutayu and his brother
Asrutayu then attacked Partha on both sides trying to save the situation, and
greatly harassed him. At one stage of this battle, Arjuna leaned on the
flagstaff, dazed with the wounds he received.
But Krishna spoke to
him encouragingly and Arjuna recovered and resumed the fight, slaying the two
brothers as well as their two sons who continued the struggle. Arjuna marched
on and, killing many more warriors successfully made his way to Jayadratha.
WHEN Dhritarashtra
heard Sanjaya relate the success of Arjuna, he exclaimed: "Oh Sanjaya!
When Janardana came to Hastinapura seeking a settlement, I told Duryodhana that
it was a great opportunity and he must not lose it. I told him to make peace
with his cousins. 'Kesava has come to do us a good turn. Do not disregard his
advice,' I said. But Duryodhana heeded not. What Karna and Duhsasana said
seemed to him better advice than mine. The Destroyer entered his mind and he
sought his own ruin. Drona deprecated war, so also did Bhishma, Bhurisravas,
Kripa and others. But my obstinate son would not listen. Impelled by inordinate
ambition, he got entangled in anger and hatred, and invited this ruinous
war."
To Dhritarashtra thus
lamenting, Sanjaya said: "Of what avail are your regrets now? The
life-giving water has all run to waste and you now seek to stop the breach. Why
did you not prevent the son of Kunti from gambling? Had you done the right
thing then, all this great grief would have been stopped at the source. Even
later, if you had been firm and stopped your son from his evil ways, this
calamity could have been avoided. You saw the evil and yet, against your own
sound judgment, you followed the foolish advice of Karna and Sakuni. Kesava,
Yudhishthira and Drona do not respect you now as they did before. Vasudeva now
knows that your rectitude is only hypocrisy. The Kauravas are now doing their
utmost as warriors, but they are unequal to opposing the strength of Arjuna,
Krishna, Satyaki and Bhima. Duryodhana has not spared himself. He is putting
forth his utmost strength. It is not meet that you should now accuse him or his
devoted soldiers."
"Dear Sanjaya, I
admit my dereliction of duty. What you say is right. No one can change the
course of fate. Tell me what happened. Tell me all, be it ever so
unpleasant," said the old king convulsed with grief. And obedient to the
old king's behest, Sanjaya continued his narration.
Duryodhana was greatly
agitated when he saw Arjuna's chariot proceeding triumphantly towards the
Sindhu king. He rushed to Drona and complained bitterly:
"Arjuna has
effected a breach in the great army and has advanced to Jayadratha's position.
Seeing our discomfiture, the warriors, protecting the Sindhu king, will surely
lose heart. They had believed that it was impossible for Arjuna to get past you
and that has now been falsified. He advanced before your eyes and nothing was
done to prevent it. You seem indeed bent on helping the Pandavas. I am in great
distress of mind. Sir, tell me, in what matter have I offended you? Why are you
letting me down in this way? If I had known that you would do this, I should
not have asked Jayadratha to stay here. It was a great mistake I committed in
not letting him go, as he desired, back to his own country. If Arjuna attacks him,
it is not possible for him to escape death. Forgive me. I am talking foolishly,
distracted by grief. Do go in person yourself to save the Saindhava."
To this frantic appeal
Drona made answer: "King, I shall not take offence at your thoughtless and
unworthy remarks. You are like a son to me. Aswatthama himself is not dearer!
Do what I ask you. Take this coat of armor and, donning it, go and stop Arjuna.
I cannot do so for my presence is necessary in this part of the field. See
there, the clouds of arrows! The Pandava army is attacking us in great force.
Yudhishthira is here unsupported by Arjuna and is this not just the opportunity
we wanted? Our very plan has borne fruit and I must now take Yudhishthira
prisoner and deliver him to you. I cannot give up this objective and run after
Phalguna now. If I go after Arjuna now, our battle array will be hopelessly
broken and we shall be lost. Let me put this armor on you. Go in confidence. Do
not fear. You have valor, skill and experience. This coat will protect you
against all weapons. It will not let any blow pass through your body. Go forth
to battle, Duryodhana, in confidence as Indra did, clad in the armor given by
Brahma. May victory be yours." Duryodhana's confidence was restored and,
as the acharya directed, he went, dressed in magic armor and accompanied by a
large force of soldiers, to attack Arjuna.
Arjuna had crossed the
Kaurava army and gone far ahead towards where Jayadratha had been kept for
safety. Seeing that the horses were somewhat fatigued, Krishna stopped the
chariot and was about to unyoke the tired animals, when the brothers Vinda and
Anuvinda came up suddenly and began to attack Arjuna.
They were defeated and
Arjuna scattered their forces and slew them both. After this, Krishna unyoked
the chariot and let the horses roll in the mud. The horses rested for a while
and were refreshed. Then, they proceeded again according to plan.
"Dhananjaya, look
behind! There comes the foolhardy Duryodhana. What good luck! Long have you
suppressed your anger, and now is the time for you to let yourself go. Here is
the man who caused all this grief, delivering himself into your hands. But
remember he is a great archer, well-versed in bow lore, and also a keen and
strong-limbed fighter." Thus said Krishna and they halted to give battle
to the Kaurava.
Duryodhana approached
without fear.
"They say, Arjuna,
that you have done acts of prowess. I have not seen this myself. Let me see if
your courage and your skill are indeed as great as your reputation," said Duryodhana
to Arjuna as he began to battle.
The combat was fierce
indeed and Krishna was surprised.
"Partha, I am
astonished," said Krishna, "How is it your arrows do not seem to hurt
Duryodhana? This is the first time I see the shafts proceeding from the Gandiva
bow strike their targets without effect. This is strange, Have your arms lost
their power? Or has the Gandiva bow lost its quality? Why do your arrows strike
Duryodhana and drop to the ground without piercing him? This is most
puzzling."
Arjuna smiled and
replied: "I understand. This man has come dressed by Drona in charmed
armor. The acharya has taught me the secret of this armor, but this man wears
it as a bullock might do. You will
see some fun now!"
Saying thus, Arjuna
proceeded to shoot his arrows, first depriving Duryodhana of his horses, his
charioteer and his car. Then, Arjuna broke his bow and disarmed him completely.
There after he sent needle-eye darts which pierced just those parts of
Duryodhana's body that were not covered by armor, until he could bear it no
longer and turned and fled.
When
Duryodhana was thus discomfited, Krishna blew his conch and it sent a thrill of
fear in Jayadratha's army. The warriors around the Sindhu king were surprised.
They at once got ready in their chariots and Bhurisravas, Chala, Karna,
Vrishasena, Kripa, Salya, Aswatthama and Jayadratha, eight of them, arrayed
their forces against Arjuna.
WHEN the Pandavas saw
Duryodhana proceeding in the direction of Arjuna, they attacked the Kaurava
army in force so as to hold Drona and prevent him from going to Jayadratha's
rescue.
So, Dhrishtadyumna led
his forces repeatedly against Drona. As a result of all this, the Kaurava army
had to fight on three fronts, and was greatly weakened.
Driving his chariot
right against Drona's, Dhrishtadyumna attacked him violently. Drona's chestnut
horses and the Panchala's dove-colored ones were entangled with one another and
presented a picturesque sight like the clouds at sunset.
Dhrishtadyumna threw
away his bow and, sword and shield in hand, he sprang upon Drona's chariot. Now
standing on the shafts of the vehicle, now on the horses and now on the yoke,
he attacked Drona bewilderingly, all the while seeming to scorch him with
baleful and bloodshot eyes.
Long did this fight go
on. Drona pulled his bow in great wrath and sent a shaft, which would have
drunk the Panchala's life but for the unexpected intervention of Satyaki who
sent an arrow and diverted the acharya's shaft.
Drona then turned and
attacked Satyaki, which enabled the Panchala warriors to take Dhrishtadyumna
away. Drona, hissing like a black cobra, his eyes red with anger, advanced on
Satyaki who was among the front rank warriors on the Pandava side and who, when
he saw Drona desiring battle, went forward to accept the challenge.
"Here is the man
who, giving up his vocation as a brahmana has taken up the profession of
fighting and is causing distress to the Pandavas," Satyaki said to his
charioteer. "This man is the principal cause of Duryodhana's arrogance. This man fancies himself a very great
soldier and is ever bursting with conceit. I must teach him a lesson. Take the
chariot up quickly."
Satyaki's charioteer
accordingly lashed the silver-white horses and took the car at a great pace.
Satyaki and Drona shot shafts at one another so quick that they covered the
sun, and the battlefield was in darkness for a while. The steel shafts swished
glimmering like newly-sloughed snakes rushing about.
The chariot hoods and
the flagstaffs on both sides were battered down. Drona as well as Satyaki were
bleeding profusely. The warriors on either side stood still watching the duel
and they did not blow their conchs or raise their war cries or sound their
lion-roars.
The Devas, Vidyadharas,
Gandharvas and Yakshas watched the great battle from above. Drona's bow was
broken by a well-aimed shaft from Satyaki, and the son of Bharadwaja had to
take another bow and, even as he strung it, Satyaki shot it down again. Drona
took up another bow that too was shot
down.
And so it went on till
Drona lost a hundred and one bows without being able to shoot an arrow. The
great acharya said to himself: "This man Satyaki is a warrior in the class
of Sri Rama, Kartavirya, Dhananjaya and Bhishma,"and was glad he had an
opponent worthy of him.
It was a craftsman's
professional joy at skill displayed in the art he loved. For every
specially-charged shaft that Drona sent, Satyaki had a ready answer of
equivalent quality. Long did this equal combat continue. Drona of unrivalled
skill in archery then resolved on killing Satyaki and sent the fire astra. But
Satyaki saw this and, losing no time, sent the Varuna astra to counteract it.
But now Satyaki's
strength began to fail and, seeing this, the Kaurava warriors were glad and
shouted in satisfaction. When Yudhishthira saw Satyaki was hard pressed, he
told those nearby to go to Satyaki's relief. "Our great and good hero
Yuyudhana (Satyaki) is being overpowered by Drona. You should go there at once,"
he said to Dhrishtadyumna.
"The brahmana will
otherwise slay Satyaki in a few minutes. Why are you hesitating? Go at once.
Drona is playing with Satyaki as a cat plays with a bird. Satyaki is indeed in
the paws of the Destroyer." Yudhishthira ordered the army to make a
powerful attack on Drona. Satyaki was saved with difficulty. Just then, the
sound of Krishna's conch was heard from the sector where Arjuna was fighting.
"O Satyaki, I hear
Panchajanya," cried Yudhishthira; "but the twang of Arjuna's bow does
not accompany it. I fear Arjuna has been surrounded by Jayadratha's friends and
is in danger. Arjuna is opposed by forces both in front of him and in his rear. He pierced the Kaurava ranks
in the morning and he has not come back yet though the greater part of the day
is gone. How is it that only Krishna's conch is heard? I fear Dhananjaya has
been slain and therefore Krishna has taken up arms. Satyaki, there is nothing
you cannot accomplish. Your bosom friend Arjuna, he, who taught you, is in
mortal danger. Often has Arjuna spoken to me admiringly of your great skill and
prowess. 'There is not another soldier like Satyaki,' he said to me when we
were in the forest. Oh, look there! The dust is rising that side. I am certain
Arjuna has been surrounded. Jayadratha is a powerful warrior, and there are
many enemy warriors there helping him and resolved to die in defence of him. Go
at once, Satyaki." Thus did Dharmaputra speak in great trepidation.
Satyaki, who was weary
after his battle with Drona, replied: "Faultless among men, I shall obey
your command. What would I not do for Dhananjaya's sake? My life is the merest
trifle in my eyes. If you order me, I am ready to fight the gods themselves.
But allow me to put before you what the wise Vasudeva and Arjuna told me when
they left. 'Until we return after slaying Jayadratha you should not leave
Yudhishthira's side. Be vigilant in protecting him. We entrust this to you in
confidence and go. There is only one warrior in the Kaurava army whom we fear,
and he is Drona. You know his sworn intention. We go leaving Dharmaputra's
safety in our hands.' Thus said Vasudeva and Arjuna to me when they went.
Arjuna laid this trust on me, believing me fit for it. How can I disregard his
command? Do not have any fear about Arjuna's safety. No one can defeat him. The
Sindhu king and the others cannot cope with a sixteenth part of Arjuna.
Dharmaputra, to whom shall I entrust your safety if I must go? I see no one
here who can stand against Drona if he comes to seize you. Do not ask me to go.
Consider well before you command me to leave."
"Satyaki,"
replied Yudhishthira, "I have thought over it. As I have weighed the
danger against the need and I have concluded that you must go. You leave me
with my full permission. Here is the powerful Bhima to look to my safety. There
is Dhrishtadyumna also, and there are many others besides. There is no need to
worry about me."
So
saying, Yudhishthira placed a boxful of arrows and other weapons in Satyaki's
chariot and got fresh horses yoked thereto and sent Satyaki uttering
benedictions on him.
"Bhimasena,
Yudhishthira is your charge. Be vigilant," said Satyaki, and went to join
Dhananjaya.
Satyaki met with
violent resistance as he proceeded to dash through the Kaurava forces. But he
cut his way through bearing down all opposition. But the resistance was very
stiff and his progress was slow.
When Drona saw Satyaki
part from Yudhishthira, he began to assault the Pandava formation without rest
or interval, until it began to break and retreat. Yudhishthira was greatly
agitated.
"ARJUNA has not
returned, nor has Satyaki, who was sent after him. Bhima, my fear grows. I hear
the Panchajanya, but not the twang of Arjuna's bowstring. Satyaki, that bravest
and most loyal of friends, has not come back with any tidings. My anxiety is
increasing every moment," said Yudhishthira to Bhima in great perplexity
of mind.
"I have never seen
you so agitated," replied Bhimasena. "Do, not let your fortitude grow
less. Command me as you please. Do not let the wheels of your mind stick in the
mud of anxiety."
"Dearest Bhima, I
fear your brother has been slain, and it seems to me Madhava has now himself
taken up arms. I hear the conch of Madhava but I hear not the resounding twang
of Gandiva. I fear Dhananjaya, the unrivalled hero, in whom were centerd all
our hopes, has been killed. My mind is confused. If you would do as I tell you, go at once to where Arjuna is. Join
him and Satyaki, and do what needs to be done, and come back. Satyaki, under orders from me, pierced
the Kaurava ranks and proceeded in
the direction of Arjuna. You go now, and do likewise and, if you indeed see
them alive, I shall know it by your lion-roar."
"My Lord, do not
grieve. I shall go and let you know they are safe," said Bhima, and
immediately turning to Dhrishtadyumna said: "Panchala, you know very well
that Drona is seeking, by some means or other, to seize Dharmaputra alive. Our
foremost duty is to protect the King. But I must also obey him and fulfil his
command. And so I go, trusting him to your care."
"Bhima, do not be
concerned. Go with an assured mind. Drona cannot take Yudhishthira without
first killing me," said the heroic son of Drupada, sworn enemy of Drona.
And Bhima hurried away.
The Kauravas surrounded
Bhima in full force and vowed to prevent him from going to Arjuna's relief. But
like a lion scattering less noble beasts he put his enemies to flight, killing
no less than eleven of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Bhima then approached Drona
himself. "Stop," cried Drona. "Here I am, your enemy. You cannot
proceed further without defeating me. Your brother Arjuna went in with my
consent. But I cannot let you go." Drona spoke thus believing that he
would receive the same courtesy from Bhima as he did from Arjuna. But Bhima was
furious at hearing these words of Drona, and answered scornfully.
"Oh brahmana, it
was not with your permission that Arjuna went. He broke your resistance and
pierced your battle lines fighting his way through, but he did not hurt you out
of pity. But I shall not, like Arjuna, show mercy to you. I am your enemy. Once
upon a time, you were our preceptor and were like a father to us. We respected
you as such. Now, you have yourself said you are our enemy. May it be so!"
Saying this, Bhima aimed his mace at Drona's chariot that crumbled to pieces.
And Drona had to take to another chariot.
The second chariot too
was broken to pieces. And Bhima forced his way through overcoming all opposition.
Drona lost eight chariots that day. And the army of the Bhojas, that tried to
stop Bhima, was completely destroyed.
He proceeded mowing
down all opposition and reached where Arjuna was fighting Jayadratha's forces.
As soon as he saw
Arjuna, Bhima roared like a lion. Hearing that roar, Krishna and Arjuna were
exceedingly pleased and raised yells of joy. Yudhishthira heard these roars
and, relieved of his doubts and anxieties, he pronounced blessings on Arjuna.
And he thought within himself:
"Before the sun
sets today, Arjuna's oath will be fulfilled. He will slay the man who caused
Abhimanyu's death and will return in triumph. Duryodhana may sue for peace
after Jayadratha's death. Seeing so many of his brothers slain, it is possible
that foolish Duryodhana may see light. The lives of numerous kings and great
warriors have been sacrificed on the field of battle and even the stubborn and
narrow-visioned Duryodhana may now see his fault and ask for peace. Will this
indeed happen? The great grandsire Bhishma has been offered as a sacrifice.
Will this wicked enmity end with it and shall we be saved from further cruel
destruction?"
While thus Yudhishthira
was fondly hoping and dreaming of peace, the battle was raging with great fury
where Bhima, Satyaki and Arjuna were engaging the enemy.
Only
the Lord knows through what travail the world must evolve. His ways are
inscrutable.
ARJUNA had left
Yudhishthira behind to repel Drona's attacks and had gone to make good his word
that before sunset Jayadratha would lie dead on the field of battle.
Jayadratha had been the
main cause of Abhimanyu's death. He it was who had effectively prevented the
relief of Abhimanyu by the Pandavas, and thereby caused Abhimanyu to be
isolated, overpowered and slain.
We have seen how
Yudhishthira in his anxiety sent first Satyaki and then Bhima to join Arjuna in
his battle against Jayadratha. Bhima reached where Arjuna was engaged and
sounded his simhanada (lion-roar). Dharmaputra heard the lion-roar of Bhima and
knew that Arjuna was found alive.
It was the fourteenth
day and the battle raged fiercely at many points, between Satyaki and
Bhurisravas at one place, between Bhima and Karna at another and between Arjuna
and Jayadratha at a third.
Drona remained at the
main front resisting the attack of the Panchalas and the Pandavas, and leading
a counter-offensive against them.
Duryodhana arrived with
his forces at the sector where Arjuna attacked Jayadratha, but was soon
defeated and turned back. The battle thus raged long and furiously on more than
one front. The armies were so deployed that each side was exposed to danger in
its rear.
Duryodhana was speaking
to Drona:
"Arjuna,
Bhima and Satyaki have treated us with contempt and proceeded successfully to
Jayadratha's sector and they are pressing hard on the Sindhu king. It is indeed
strange that, under your command, our battle array should have been broken and
our plans completely foiled. Everyone asks how it is that the great Drona with
all his mastery of the science of war has been so badly outmaneuvered. What
answer shall I make? I have been betrayed by you."
Duryodhana thus, once
again, bitterly reproached Drona, who replied unperturbed:
"Duryodhana, your
accusations are as unworthy as they are contrary to truth. There is nothing to
be gained by talking about what is past and beyond repair. Think of what is to
be done now."
"Sir, it is for
you to advise me. Tell me what should be done. Give your best consideration to
the difficulties of the situation and decide and let us do it quickly."
Puzzled and perplexed, thus did Duryodhana plead.
Drona replied: "My
son, the situation is no doubt serious. Three great generals have advanced,
outmanoeuvring us. But they have as much reason to be anxious as we, for their
rear is now left as open to attack as ours. We are on both sides of them and
their position is not therefore safe. Be heartened, go up to Jayadratha again,
and do all you can to support him. It is of no avail to dishearten oneself by
dwelling on past defeats and difficulties. It is best I stay here and send you
reinforcements as and when required. I must keep the Panchalas and Pandava army
engaged here. Otherwise, we shall be wholly destroyed."
Accordingly, Duryodhana
went with fresh reinforcements again to where Arjuna was directing his attack
on Jayadratha.
The narrative of the
fourteenth day's fighting at Kurukshetra shows that, even in the Mahabharata times,
the modern tactics of turning and enveloping movements was not unknown.
The advantages and
risks of such strategy appear to have been fully understood and discussed even
in those days. Arjuna's flanking manoeuvres perplexed his enemies greatly. The story
of that day's battle between Bhima and Karna reads very much like a chapter
from the narrative of a modern war.
Bhima did not desire to
fight Karna or remain long engaged with him. He was eager to reach where Arjuna
was. But Radheya would, by no means, permit him to do this. He showered his
arrows on Bhimasena and stopped him from proceeding.
The contrast between
the two warriors was striking. Karna's handsome lotus-like face was radiant
with smiles when he attacked Bhima saying: "Do not show your back,"
"Now, do not flee like a coward," and so on.
Bhima was all anger
when taunted in this manner. He was maddened by Karna's smiles. The battle was
fierce but Karna did everything with a smiling air of ease whereas Bhima's face
glowed with rage and his movements were violent.
Karna would keep at a
distance and send his well-aimed shafts but Bhima would disregard the arrows
and javelins failing thick upon him and always try to close with Karna.
Radheya did everything
he did, calmly and with graceful ease, whereas Bhimasena fumed and fretted with
impatience, as he showed his amazing strength of limb.
Bhima was red with
bleeding wounds all over and presented the appearance of an Asoka tree in full
blossom. But he minded them not, as he attacked Karna cutting bows in twain and
smashing his chariot.
When Karna had to run
for a fresh chariot, there was no smile on his face. For anger rose in him,
like the sea on a full moon day, as he attacked Bhima. Both showed the strength
of tigers and the speed of eagles and their anger was now like that of serpents
in a fury.
Bhima brought before
his mind all the insults and injuries which he and his brothers and Draupadi
had suffered, and fought desperately, caring not for life.
The two cars dashed
against each other and the milk white horses of Karna's chariot and Bhimasena's
black horses jostled in the combat like clouds in a thunderstorm.
Karna's bow was
shattered and his charioteer reeled and fell. Karna then hurled a javelin at
Bhima. But Bhima parried it and continued pouring his arrows on Karna, who had
taken up a fresh bow.
Again and again did
Karna lose his chariot. Duryodhana saw Karna's plight and calling his brother
Durjaya said: "This wicked Pandava will kill Karna. Go at once and attack
Bhima and save Karna's life."
Durjaya went as ordered and attacked Bhima who, in a rage sent
seven shafts which sent Durjaya's horses and his charioteer to the abode of
Yama and Durjaya himself fell mortally wounded.
Seeing his bleeding
body wriggling on the ground like a wounded snake, Karna was overwhelmed with
grief and circled round the hero, paying mournful honor to the dead.
Bhima
did not stop but continued the fight and greatly harassed Karna. Karna once
again had to find a fresh chariot. He sent well aimed shafts and hit Bhima who
in a fury hurled his mace at Karna and it crashed on Karna's chariot and killed
his charioteer and horses and broke the flagstaff. Karna now stood on the
ground with bent bow.
Duryodhana now sent
another brother to relieve Karna. Durmukha went accordingly and took Karna on
his chariot.
Seeing yet another son
of Dhritarashtra come to offer himself up to death, Bhima licked his lips in
gusto and sent nine shafts on the newly arrived enemy. And, even as Karna
climbed up to take his seat in the chariot, Durmukha's armor was broken and he
fell lifeless.
When Karna saw the
warrior bathed in blood and lying dead by his side, he was again overwhelmed
with grief and stood motionless for a while.
Bhima relentlessly
continued his attack on Karna. His sharp arrows pierced Karna's coat of armor and
he was in pain.
But he too at once
returned the attack and wounded Bhima all over.
Still the Pandava would
not stop and attacked Karna furiously. The sight of so many of Duryodhana's
brothers dying for his sake one after another was too much for Karna.
This, and the physical
pain of his own wounds made him lose courage and he turned away defeated. But,
when Bhima stood up on the field of battle red with wounds all over like a
flaming fire and emitted a triumphant yell, he could not brook it but returned
to the combat.
DHRITARASHTRA, hearing
of the slaughter of his sons and the check received by Karna, was desolate.
"O Sanjaya, like moths falling in the
fire, my sons are being destroyed. The stubborn Duryodhana has led the lads
Durmukha and Durjaya, to their doom. Alas, I have lost these boys! The fool
said: 'Karna, unrivalled among men for courage and the accomplishment of war,
is on our side. Who then can defeat us?
Even the gods cannot win a battle against me when Karna is on my side. What can
these Pandavas do to me?' But now he has seen Karna beating a retreat when
Bhimasena attacked him. Has he seen wisdom at least now? Alas, Sanjaya, my son
has earned the undying hatred of the son of Vayu, Bhima, who has the strength
of the god of death! We are indeed ruined!"
Sanjaya replied:
"O king, was it not you who brought about this unquenchable hatred,
listening to the words of your foolish and stubborn son? To you indeed must be
traced this greater disaster. You are now but reaping the fruit of your
discarding the advice of Bhishma and the other elders. Blame yourself, king. Do
not blame Karna and the brave warriors who have done their best in battle."
After
thus admonishing the blind king, Sanjaya proceeded to tell him what happened.
Five sons of Dhritarashtra, Durmarsha, Dussaha, Durmata, Durdhara and Jaya,
when they saw Karna put to flight by Bhima at once rushed on the latter.
When Karna saw this, he
was heartened and turned back to resume his attack. Bhimasena at first ignored
the sons of Dhritarashtra and concentrated on Karna.
But
they became so violent in their assault that Bhima got incensed and, turning
his attentions on them, disposed of all five of them. They lay dead on the
field, with their horses and their charioteers.
The young warriors with
their bleeding wounds presented the appearance of a forest with trees, uprooted
by a strong wind and lying flat on the ground with their beautiful red
blossoms.
When Karna saw another
batch of princes slaughtered for his sake he fought more grimly than ever
before. Bhima too was more violent than before, thinking of all the evil that
Karna had wrought against the Pandavas.
He used his bow so as
to disarm Karna completely. His horses and charioteer were also laid low. Karna
now jumped down from his chariot and hurled his mace at Bhima.
But Bhima warded it off
with shafts from his powerful bow and covered Karna with a shower of arrows and
forced him to turn back and walk on foot.
Duryodhana, who watched
this combat, was greatly grieved and sent seven of his brothers Chitra,
Upachitra, Chitraksha, Charuchitra, Sarasana, Chitrayudha and Chitravarman, to
relieve Radheya.
They gave battle to
Bhima displaying great skill and energy. But fell dead one after another, for
Bhima's passion was roused and his attack was irresistible.
When Karna saw so many
of the sons of Dhritarashtra sacrificing themselves for him, his face was wet
with tears and he mounted a fresh chariot and began to attack Bhima with deadly
effect.
The two combatants
clashed like clouds in a thunderstorm. Kesava, Satyaki and Arjuna were filled
with admiration and joy as they watched Bhima fighting.
Bhurisravas, Kripacharya,
Aswatthama, Salya, Jayadratha and many other warriors of the Kaurava army also
broke into exclamations, astonished at the way in which Bhima fought.
Duryodhana was stung to
the quick and burned with anger. Karna's plight caused him extreme anxiety. He
feared Bhima would kill Radheya that day, and sent seven more of his brothers
directing them to surround Bhima and attack him simultaneously.
The seven brothers sent
by Duryodhana attacked Bhima. But fell one after another, struck down by his
arrows. Vikarna, who was killed last, was beloved of all.
When Bhima saw him fall
dead after a brave fight, he was deeply moved and exclaimed: "Alas, O
Vikarna, you were just and knew what was dharma! You fought in loyal obedience
to the call of duty. I had to kill even you. Indeed this battle is a curse upon
us wherein men like you and the grandsire Bhishma have had to be
slaughtered."
Seeing Duryodhana's
brothers, who came to help him, slain one after another in this manner, Karna
was overwhelmed by anguish. He leant back on his seat in the chariot and closed
his eyes unable to bear the sight.
Then recovering control
over his emotions he hardened his heart and began again his attack on Bhima.
Bow after bow was broken up by Bhimasena's shaft, but Karna kept the battle.
Eighteen times he had
to take up a fresh bow. Karna had long ago discarded his smile and his face
showed savage anger even as Bhima's. They now glared fiercely at each other as
they fought.
Yudhishthira now heard
Bhima's roar rise above the tumult of battle, and heartened by it, he fought
Drona with increased vigor.
In the renewed and
fierce battle between Bhima and Karna, Bhima lost his horses and charioteer.
Soon his chariot also was smashed to pieces. Then, Bhima hurled his spear at
Karna who was in his chariot and as Karna parried it with his shaft, Bhima
advanced with sword and shield.
But Karna broke the
shield at once with his shafts. Then, Bhima whirled his sword and hurled it,
and it cut Karna's bow into two and fell on the ground. But Karna took up yet
another bow and assailed Bhima with arrows more fiercely than before.
Bhima, in a fit of
uncontrollable rage, sprang upon Karna. Radheya took cover behind his flagstaff
and escaped destruction. Thereupon, Bhima jumped out of Karna's car down into
the field of battle where, deprived of all arms, he used the elephants lying
dead on the ground to protect himself from Karna's arrows and continued the
fight.
He picked up anything
he could lay hands upon, wheels of broken chariots, the limbs of horses and
elephants that were lying about, and hurling them at Karna, kept him engaged
without interval. But this could not long continue and Bhima was soon at a
great disadvantage. Karna said exultingly:
"Foolish glutton,
you do not know the science of war; why do you engage yourself in battle here?
Go to the jungle and fill yourself with fruits and roots and grow fat. You are
a savage, not fit for kshatriya battle. Get away!" Hurling insulting
taunts at him, he made the helpless Bhima burn with rage, but mindful of his
word to Kunti, refrained from killing him.
"There, Arjuna!
See how poor Bhima is being harassed by Karna," said Krishna. Dhananjaya's
eyes burned red with wrath, when he saw the plight of his valiant brother.
He bent his Gandiva bow
and discharged his arrows on Karna who then gladly turned his attentions from
Bhima to Arjuna. He had pledged his word to Kunti not to kill more than one of
the Pandavas and he reserved that option for the great Arjuna.
"THERE comes the valorous
Satyaki," said Krishna, the charioteer, to Dhananjaya. "Your disciple
and friend is marching up, triumphantly breaking through enemy ranks."
"I do not like it,
Madhava," replied Arjuna. "It was not right for him to have left
Dharmaputra and come here to join me. Drona is there ever seeking an
opportunity to seize Dharmaputra. Satyaki should have stuck to his post there
to guard him. Instead, he has come here. Old Bhurisravas has intercepted
Satyaki. It was a great mistake for Yudhishthira to have sent Satyaki away
here."
There was a family feud
between Bhurisravas and Satyaki that made them inveterate foes.
It
had come about this way. When Devaki, who was to be the blessed mother of Sri
Krishna, was a maiden, many princes competed for her hand and there was a great
battle between Somadatta and Sini over it.
Sini won, and on behalf
of Vasudeva he placed Devaki in his chariot and took her away. Since that
incident there was feud between the two clans, the Sini family and that of
Somadatta. Satyaki was Sini's grandson.
Bhurisravas was
Somadatta's son. When they found themselves on opposite sides in the
Kurukshetra battle, it was natural that, as soon as Bhurisravas saw Satyaki,
the old warrior challenged Satyaki to battle.
"Oh Satyaki,"
cried Bhurisravas, "I know you strut about thinking yourself a man of
great prowess. Here now I have you in my power and will presently finish you.
Long have I sought for this meeting. Like Indrajit destroyed Dasaratha's son
Lakshmana, you will die today and go to the abode of Yama, gladdening the
hearts of many a bereaved widow."
Satyaki laughed.
"Have done with your vaunting," he interrupted. "Words are not
deeds and do not frighten fighting men. Demonstrate your valor in action and do
not indulge in dry thunder like autumn clouds."
After this exchange of
words, the battle began, and the combat was as between two fierce lions. Their
horses were killed, their bows were broken, and both were rendered chariotless.
They were now standing
on the ground fighting with swords and shields, till their shields were hacked
to bits and their swords broken. Then they were locked in a deadly embrace
without weapons.
They rolled together on
the ground. They leaped up and they sprang on each other. They fell down again
and so the combat went on for a long while.
Partha's mind was at
the time concentrated on Jayadratha's movements and he did not watch this
combat between Satyaki and the son of Somadatta.
But his charioteer
Krishna was deeply concerned about Satyaki's fate. For Krishna knew about their
family feud.
"Dhananjaya,"
said Krishna, "Satyaki is exhausted. Bhurisravas is going to kill him
now."
Still Arjuna was
following only Jayadratha's movements.
"Satyaki who came
after an exhausting battle with the Kaurava forces has been forced to accept
Bhurisravas' challenge," said Krishna again. "It is a most unequal
battle. Unless we help him, beloved Yuyudhana will be slain."
Even as Krishna was
saying this, Bhurisravas lifted Satyaki up and brought him crashing to the
ground and all the men around in the Kaurava army exclaimed: "Yuyudhana is
dead!"
Again Krishna
importuned: "Satyaki is lying almost dead on the field, the best among the
Vrishni clan. One who came to help you, is being killed before your eyes. You
are looking on, doing nothing."
Bhurisravas caught hold
of the prostrate Satyaki and dragged him on the ground as a lion drags its
elephant prey.
Arjuna was in a great
conflict of mind. "Bhurisravas has not been called to battle by me, nor
has he challenged me to fight. How can I send my shaft at Bhurisravas when he
is engaged with another? My mind recoils from such an act, although it is true
a friend who came to help me is being slaughtered before my eyes."
Just as Arjuna finished
saying this to Krishna, the sky was darkened by a cloud of arrows sent by
Jayadratha. Arjuna replied with a shower of arrows, but he constantly turned
with pain to where Satyaki was in the mortal grip of Bhurisravas.
Krishna again pressed
Arjuna to consider Satyaki's condition. "O Partha, Satyaki has lost all
his weapons and he is now in Bhurisravas' power, helpless."
When Arjuna turned, he
saw Bhurisravas with his foot on the prostrate body of Satyaki and sword
upraised to slay him.
Before Bhurisravas
could deliver the fatal thrust, Arjuna shot an arrow which went with the speed
of lightning and the next moment the uplifted arm fell chopped off to the
ground still holding the sword. Bhurisravas, all amazed, turned and saw who had
done it.
"Son of
Kunti," he exclaimed, "I had not expected this of you! It befits not
a warrior to shoot from behind in this manner. I was engaged in combat with
someone else and you have attacked me without notice. Indeed, then, no man can
resist the evil influence of the company he keeps, as your unchivalrous conduct
proves. Dhananjaya, when you go back to your brother Dharmaputra, what account
are you going to give him of this valorous deed. Ah! Who taught you this low
trick, Arjuna? Did you learn this from your father Indra or from your teachers
Drona and Kripa? What code of conduct was it that permitted you to shoot your
arrow at a man who was engaged in combat with another and could not so much as
turn his eyes on you? You have done the deed of a low-bred fellow and foully
besmirched your honor. You must have been instigated into it by the son of
Vasudeva. It was not in your own nature to do it. No one with princely blood in
his veins would think of such a dastardly deed. I know you have been incited to
it by that contemptible Krishna."
Thus did Bhurisravas
with his right arm cut off, bitterly denounce Krishna and Arjuna in the
Kurukshetra field.
Said
Partha: "Bhurisravas, you are old and age seems to have affected your
judgment. You accuse Hrishikesa and me without cause. How could I look on doing
nothing, when, before my eyes, you were in the act of killing my friend, who
came and risked his life in battle on my behalf, one who was like a right hand
to me, and whom you were going to stab when he was lying helpless on the
ground? I would have deserved to go to hell if I had failed to intervene. You
say, I have been ruined by keeping company with Madhava. Who in the wide world
would not wish to be so ruined? You have spoken out of confused understanding.
Satyaki who was weary and exhausted when he came here and who was inadequately
armed, was challenged by you to give battle. You overcame him. Having been
defeated, he lay on the ground, powerless. What code of honor enabled you to
raise your sword to thrust it into the body of the fallen warrior and slay him?
Do I not remember how you cheered the man who killed my boy Abhimanyu when he
stood staggering, exhausted and weaponless, his coat of armor torn off?"
Bhurisravas who heard
this did not answer but spread his arrows on the ground with his left hand and
made a seat for meditation.
The old warrior sat in
yoga and the sight deeply moved all the Kaurava soldiers. They cheered
Bhurisravas and uttered reproaches against Krishna and Arjuna.
Arjuna spoke:
"Brave men, I am sworn to protect every friend within bow-shot of me and I
cannot let an enemy kill him. It is my sacred pledge. Why do you blame me? It
is not right to hurl reproaches without due thought."
After saying this to
the warriors in the field who reproached him, he turned to Bhurisravas and
said: "O excellent among brave men, you have protected many who have gone
to you for help. You know that what has happened is due to your own error.
There is no justice in blaming me. If you like, let us all blame the violence
which governs kshatriya life."
Bhurisravas, who heard
this, lowered his head in salutation.
Satyaki now recovered
consciousness and rose. Carried away by the impetuosity of his passion, he
picked up a sword and, advancing to Bhurisravas, sitting in yoga on his seat of
arrows, even when all around were shouting in horror and before Krishna and
Arjuna, who rushed to the spot, could prevent him, with one swift and powerful
cut, he struck off the old warrior's head which rolled down, while the body was
still in the posture of meditation.
The gods and the siddhas,
who looked on from above the battlefield, uttered blessings on Bhurisravas.
Everyone in the field condemned Satyaki's act.
Satyaki maintained he
was right, saying: "After I fell down senseless, this enemy of my family
placed his foot on my prostrate figure and attempted to kill me. I may slay him
in whatever posture he might choose to be." But none approved of his
conduct.
The slaying of
Bhurisravas is one of the many situations of moral conflict woven into the
story of the Mahabharata to demonstrate that, when hatred and anger have been
roused, codes of honor and dharma are powerless to control them.
"THE decisive hour
has come, Karna," said Duryodhana, "If before nightfall this day
Jayadratha is not slain, Arjuna will be disgraced and he will kill himself, for
not having redeemed his oath. With Arjuna's death, the destruction of the
Pandavas is certain and this kingdom will be ours in unquestioned and absolute
sovereignty. Dhananjaya swore this impossible oath in a moment of thoughtlessness,
because the gods had willed it that he should be thus destroyed by his own
hand. It seems my stars are now in the ascendant. We should not let this
opportunity slip. We must see somehow that his challenge fails. The whole thing
depends on you. Your great skill in battle is on trial today. Prove yourself
this day. See the sun has sloped down in the west. Within the little time left
before nightfall, I do not think it possible for Partha to reach Jayadratha.
You, Aswatthama, Salya, Kripa, and I must guard Jayadratha and do all we can to
see that he does not fall into Arjuna's hands during the next few hours before
sunset."
"My king,"
Karna replied "I have been wounded all over by Bhimasena, and am so weary
that my limbs have no power in them. Still, I shall put forth all the strength
that is in me. I only live to serve you."
When Karna and
Duryodhana were thus planning, Arjuna was engaged in a great attack on the
Kaurava army and putting forth all his strength, so that before sunset he could
break through to Jayadratha.
Krishna put his
Panchajanya in his mouth and blew a loud note in the rishabha swara, which was
the signal for his own charioteer Daruka to arrive at once with his chariot.
When it came, Satyaki
took his place in it, and attacked Karna vigorously and skilfully, keeping him
fully engaged. Daruka's mastery of driving and Satyaki's archery were such as
brought down the gods to witness the combat.
Karna's four chariot
horses were disabled and the charioteer was unseated. Then the flagstaff was
cut asunder and the chariot was smashed. The great Karna stood chariotless and
the event produced a great flutter in the Kaurava army.
Karna had to run and
climb up into Duryodhana's chariot. Sanjaya here tells Dhritarashtra to whom he
was relating the incident: "The greatest adepts in archery are Krishna,
Partha and Satyaki. There is not a fourth to match them!"
Arjuna broke through
the Kaurava opposition and reached Jayadratha. Inflamed by the thought of the
slaughter of Abhimanyu, and all the great wrongs inflicted by the Kauravas,
Arjuna fought with fury.
Savyasachin as he was,
he discharged shafts from the Gandiva bow, now using one hand and now the
other. He struck terror and confusion among his enemies, who felt as if Death
had come to the battlefield with wide-open jaws.
It is only the poet of
the Mahabharata that can describe the combat that raged between Arjuna and
Aswatthama and the other great warriors that protected the king of Sindhu. They
fought fiercely but were all defeated and could not prevent Arjuna from
reaching Jayadratha. The attack on Jayadratha began and the battle raged long.
Both sides were constantly looking westwards, for the day was nearing its end.
The Saindhava was no mean foe, and taxed to the full, Arjuna's strength and
skill were hard put to it.
The sun sank towards
the horizon and reddened, but the battle did not cease. "There is but a
very little time left. It seems Jayadratha has been saved and Arjuna's
challenge has failed. The vow is unfulfilled and Arjuna is going to be
disgraced," said Duryodhana to himself in great glee.
Then, there was
darkness and the cry went round in both armies: "It is sunset and
Jayadratha has not been killed. Arjuna has lost." The Pandavas were
depressed and there were shouts of joy in the Kaurava army.
Jayadratha turned to
the western horizon and thought within himself, "I am saved!" for he
did not see the sun then and thought the time-limit of danger from Arjuna was
over.
At that moment,
however, Krishna said to Arjuna: "Dhananjaya, the Sindhu raja is looking
at the horizon. I have caused this darkness. The sun is still up and has not
set. Do your work. This is the moment for it, for Jayadratha is off his
guard."
A shaft flew from the
Gandiva bow, and, like a vulture swooping down on a chicken, carried away
Jayadratha's head. "Listen, Arjuna," cried Krishna, "send your
shafts in swift relays, so that the head may be supported from falling to the
earth and borne into Vriddhakshatra's lap."
And Arjuna sent his
wonderful arrows that carried away the head in the air. It was a strange sight.
Vriddhakshatra was in his ashrama sitting in the open absorbed in his evening meditation with eyes closed, when his
son's head with beautiful black hair and golden earrings gently dropped into
his lap.
The old king finished
his meditation and got up, when the head rolled down and fell on the ground.
And, as ordained, Vriddhakshatra's head burst into a hundred fragments.
Jayadratha and his father together reached the abode of the brave.
Kesava, Dhananjaya,
Bhima, Satyaki, Yudhamanyu and Uttamaujas blew their conchs and Dharmaraja who
heard the triumphant noise knew that it meant that Arjuna had redeemed his oath
and that the Saindhava had been slain.
Then, Yudhishthira led
his army fiercely against Drona. It was nightfall, but on the fourteenth day of
the battle the rule of cease-fire at sunset was not observed. As the passions
rose from day to day, one by one the rules and restraints broke down.
ALL those who have
heard the story of the Mahabharata know about Ghatotkacha, Bhimasena's famous
son by his asura wife. There are two young men among the Mahabharata figures
who embody all the qualities of heroism, fortitude, strength, courage, and
amiability. They are Arjuna's son, Abhimanyu, and Bhima's son, Ghatotkacha.
Both of them gave up their lives on the Kurukshetra battlefield.
Towards the latter part
of the Mahabharata fight, the hatred roused on both sides did not find
satisfaction in battle conducted during the daytime and close at nightfall. On
the fourteenth day, when the sunset, they did not cease fighting but went on
with it in torchlight.
The Kurukshetra field
presented a strange sight, the like of which had not been seen before in
Bharatadesa. The generals and soldiers on both sides were engaged in battle,
with thousands of torches burning and using signals specially devised for
nighttime.
Ghatotkacha and his
troops of asuras who are strongest at night, found darkness an additional
advantage and violently attacked Duryodhana's army. Duryodhana's heart sank
within him when he saw thousands of his men destroyed by Ghatotkacha and his
demon army moving in the air and attacking in weird and unexpected ways.
"Kill this fellow
at once, Karna, for otherwise, soon our whole army will cease to be. Finish him
without further delay." Thus begged all the perplexed Kauravas of Karna.
Karna was himself angry
and bewildered, having just been wounded by one of the asura's arrows. He had
with him no doubt the spear of unerring effect which Indra had given to him.
But it could be used only once, and he had carefully husbanded it for exclusive
use on Arjuna with whom a decisive encounter he knew was inevitable.
But in the confusion
and wrath of that eerie midnight melee, Karna, impelled by a sudden urge,
hurled the missile at the young giant. Thus was Arjuna saved, but at great
cost. Bhima's beloved son, Ghatotkacha, who from mid-air was showering his
deadly arrows on the Kaurava army, dropped dead, plunging the Pandavas in
grief.
The battle did not
stop. Drona spread fear and destruction in the Pandava army by his relentless
attacks. "O Arjuna," said Krishna, "there is none that can
defeat this Drona, fighting according to the strict rules of war. We cannot
cope with him unless dharma is discarded. We have no other way open. There is
but one thing that will make him desist from fighting. If he hears that
Aswatthama is dead, Drona will lose all interest in life and throw down his
weapons. Someone must therefore tell Drona that Aswatthama has been slain."
Arjuna shrank in horror
at the proposal, as he could not bring himself to tell a lie. Those who were
nearby with him also rejected the idea, for no one was minded to be a party to
deceit.
Yudhishthira stood for
a while reflecting deeply. "I shall bear the burden of this sin," he
said and resolved the deadlock!
It was strange. But
when the ocean was churned at the beginning of the world and the dread poison
rose threatening to consume the gods, did not Rudra come forward to swallow it
and save them? To save the friend who had wholly depended on him, Rama was
driven to bear the sin of killing Vali, in disregard of the rules of fairplay.
So also, now did Yudhishthira decide to bear the shame of it, for there was no
other way.
Bhima lifted his iron
mace and brought it down on the head of a huge elephant called Aswatthama and
it fell dead. After killing the elephant Aswatthama, Bhimasena went near the
division commanded by Drona and roared so that all might hear.
"I have killed
Aswatthama!" Bhimasena who, until then, had never done or even
contemplated an ignoble act, was, as he uttered these words, greatly ashamed.
They knocked against
his very heart, but could they be true? Drona heard these words as he was in
the act of discharging a Brahmastra. "Yudhishthira, is it true my son has
been slain?" Dronacharya asked addressing Dharmaputra.
The acharya thought
that Yudhishthira would not utter an untruth, even for the kingship of the
three worlds.
When Drona asked thus,
Krishna was terribly perturbed. "If Yudhishthira fails us now and shrinks
from uttering an untruth, we are lost. Drona's Brahmastra is of unquenchable
potency and the Pandavas will be destroyed," he said.
And Yudhishthira
himself stood trembling in horror of what he was about to do, but within him
also was the desire to win. "Let it be my sin," he said to himself
and hardened his heart, and said aloud: "Yes, it is true that Aswatthama
has been killed."
But, as he was saying
it, he felt again the disgrace of it and added in a low and tremulous voice,
"Aswatthama, the elephant" words which were however drowned in the
din and were not heard by Drona.
"O king, thus was
a great sin committed," said Sanjaya to the blind Dhritarashtra, while
relating the events of the battle to him.
When the words of
untruth came out of Yudhishthira's mouth, the wheels of his chariot, which
until then always stood and moved four inches above the ground and never
touched it at once came down and touched the earth.
Yudhishthira, who till
then had stood apart from the world so full of untruth, suddenly became of the
earth, earthy. He too desired victory and slipped into the way of untruth and
so his chariot came down to the common road of mankind.
When Drona heard that
his beloved son had been slain, all his attachment to life snapped. And desire
vanished as if it had never been there. When the veteran was in that mood,
Bhimasena loudly spoke indicting him in harsh words:
"You brahmanas,
abandoning the legitimate functions of your varna and taking to the Kshatriya
profession of arms, have brought ruin to princes. If you brahmanas had not gone
astray from the duties belonging to you by birth, the princes would not have
been led to this destruction. You teach that non-killing is the highest dharma
and that the brahmana is the supporter and nourisher of that dharma. Yet, you
have rejected that wisdom which is yours by birth, and shamelessly undertaken
the profession of killing. It was our misfortune that you descended to this
sinful life."
These taunts of
Bhimasena caused excruciating pain to Drona who had already lost the will to
live. He threw his weapons away and sat down in yoga on the floor of his
chariot and was soon in a trance.
At
this moment Dhrishtadyumna with drawn sword, came and climbed in to the chariot
and heedless of cries of horror and deprecation from all around he fulfilled
his destiny as the slayer of Drona by sweeping off the old warrior's head. And
the soul of the son of Bharadwaja issued out in a visible blaze of fight and
mounted heavenwards.
The Mahabharata is a
great and wonderful story. The sorrows of human life are painted with sublime
beauty and rolled out in a grand panorama.
Behind the story of errors and sorrows the poet enables us to have a vision
of the Transcendent Reality. Thus it is that the Mahabharata, though a story,
has come to be a book of dharma. This book, in style and substance, is
altogether different from tales and romances. In modern novels, dramas and
pictures, exciting scenes are enacted, the hero passes through dangers and
difficulties and finally marries a woman whom he loves. Or else everything
seems to go on happily but suddenly things go wrong and terrible misfortune
happens and the curtain drops. This is the art scheme of ordinary sensational
stories. The Ramayana and the Mahabharata are quite a different kind of
artistic creation. When we read them, our inner being is seized and cleansed,
so to say, by being passed alternately through joys and sorrows, and we are
finally lifted above both and taken to the Transcendent and Real.
WHEN Drona died, the
princes of the Kaurava army installed Karna as Generalissimo. Karna stood up in
his gorgeous war chariot driven by Salya. The dauntless confidence of his
bearing and his great renown as a warrior heartened the Kauravas. The battle
again began. Readers of the stars were consulted and the Pandavas chose the
propitious hour for grim battle. Arjuna led the attack on Karna, supported by
Bhimasena immediately behind his chariot.
Duhsasana made a
concentrated attack on Bhima and sent a shower of arrows at him. Bhima chuckled
and said to himself. "I have this wretch now safe in my hands. I shall
today redeem my promise to Draupadi. Too long has my oath waited for
performance."
As Bhima thus bethought
himself of what Duhsasana had done to Draupadi, the anger within him blazed up
uncontrollably and throwing down all his weapons, he jumped from his chariot
and leapt upon Duhsasana like a tiger on its prey, hurled him down and broke
his limbs.
"Wicked beast, is
this the wretched hand that held Draupadi by the hair? Here, I tear out the
root from your body. If there be any here wishing to help you, let him come
forward and try!"
Glaring hatefully at
Duryodhana as he roared this
challenge, Bhimasena tore Duhsasana's arm out and threw the bleeding limb on
the battlefield.
And then he fulfilled
the terrible oath he had taken thirteen years before. He sucked and drank the
blood from his enemy's body like a beast of prey and danced on the bloody
field, mad with passion. "I have done it!" he roared. "The oath
I swore against this great sinner has been redeemed. It only remains to redeem
my oath as regards Duryodhana. The sacrificial fire is ready. Let that victim
also prepare."
The scene made everyone
shudder. Even great Karna was shaken as he saw Bhima in this ecstasy of wrath.
"Do not flinch," said Salya to Karna. "It does not befit you to
show any sign that may be mistaken for fear. When Duryodhana stands quivering
in despair; it is not right that you also should lose heart. After the great
Duhsasana's death, the army's hope rests solely on you. You must now bear the
full burden. Like the gallant warrior you are, seek single combat with Arjuna,
and win eternal glory on earth or the soldier's heaven!" At these words,
Karna recovered his courageous spirit. With eyes red with wrath and unshed
tears, he bade Salya drive the chariot towards Arjuna.
"Enough of
fighting," said Aswatthama addressing Duryodhana earnestly. "Let us
terminate this disastrous enmity. Beloved friend, make peace with the Pandavas.
Stop the battle."
"What? Did you not
hear the words that the stubborn Bhima uttered when like a ravening beast, he
drank human blood and danced over my brother's mangled body? What talk can
there be now of peace? Why do you speak vain words!" said Duryodhana.
Saying thus, he ordered a fresh disposition of the forces, and gave the command
for attack.
Then followed a great
battle. The son of Surya sent a dazzling arrow, which spat fire and made for
Arjuna, like a serpent with its flaming double-tongue out. Then Krishna,
Arjuna's charioteer, at the nick of time, pressed the vehicle down five fingers
deep in the mud, so that the serpent shaft just missed Partha's head but struck
off his helmet! Arjuna was red with shame and anger and he fixed a dart on his
bow to make an end of Karna.
And Karna's fated hour
was come, and as had been foretold, the left wheel of his chariot suddenly sank
in the bloody mire. He jumped down on the ground to lift the wheel up from the
mud.
"Wait a
minute!" he cried. "My chariot has sunk in the ground. Great warrior
as you are, and knowing dharma as you do, you would certainly not take unfair
advantage of this accident. I shall presently set my car right and give you all
the battle you want."
Arjuna hesitated. Karna
was now somewhat perturbed on account of the mishap. He remembered the curse
that had been pronounced on him, and again appealed to Arjuna's sense of honor.
Krishna intervened.
"Ha, Karna!" be exclaimed, "it is well that you too remember
that there are things like fairplay and chivalry! Now that you are in
difficulty, you remember them indeed. But when you and Duryodhana and Duhsasana
and Sakuni dragged Draupadi to the Hall of Assembly and insulted her, how was
it you forgot them utterly? You helped to inveigle Dharmaputra, who was fond of
play but was unskilled at it, to gamble, and you cheated him. Where had your
fairplay hidden itself then? Was it fairplay to refuse to give to Yudhishthira
his kingdom when according to the pledge the twelve years of forest life and
the thirteenth year incognito were duly completed? What had happened to the
dharma you appeal for now? You conspired with the wicked men who sought to
poison and kill Bhima. You acquiesced in the plot to burn the Pandavas alive
when sleeping in the palace of wax into which they had been lured. What had
happened to dharma all that time? What did dharma tell you when violent hands
were laid on Draupadi and you were looking on enjoying the sight? Did you not
then mock at her saying: 'Your husbands have left you unprotected, go and marry
another husband'? The tongue that was not ashamed to utter those words now
talks of chivalry. Chivalry indeed! When a mob of you surrounded the young
Abhimanyu and shamelessly slew him, was that chivalry? Wicked man, do not talk
now of chivalry and fairplay, for you have never honored them!"
When Krishna was
denouncing him in this manner in order to urge Arjuna to prompt action, Karna
bent his head in shame and uttered not
a word. Karna silently ascended the chariot leaving the wheel still stuck in the mud and took his
bow and sent an arrow at Arjuna with unerring aim and such power that it stunned him for a moment.
Karna utilised the
respite won, to jump down again and hurriedly tried to lift the chariot wheel
up. But the curse was too strong for him and fortune had deserted the great
warrior.
The wheel would not
budge, though he strove with all his great strength. Then he tried to recall
the mantras of mighty astras he had learnt from Parasurama, but his memory
failed in the hour of his need, even as Parasurama had foretold.
"Waste no more
time, Arjuna," cried Madhava. "Send your shaft and slay your wicked
enemy."
Arjuna's mind was
wavering. His hand hesitated to do what was not chivalrous. But when Krishna
said this, the poet says: "Arjuna accepted this command of the Lord and
sent an arrow which cut and severed the head of the Radheya."
The poet had not the
heart to impute this act to Arjuna who was the embodiment of nobility. It was
the Lord Krishna that incited Arjuna to kill Karna when he was vainly trying to
raise his chariot out of the mud in which it had stuck. According to the code
of honor and laws of war prevailing then, it was wholly wrong. Who could bear
the responsibility for breaches of dharma except the Lord Himself? The lesson is that it is vanity to hope,
through physical violence and war, to put down wrong. The battle for right,
conducted through physical force leads to numerous wrongs and, in the net
result, adharma increases.
WHEN Duryodhana beheld
Karna's death, his grief knew no bounds. Kripacharya was deeply moved by
Duryodhana's anguish of heart and said: "Moved by ambition and greed we
placed too great a burden on friends. They have uncomplainingly borne it and laid down their lives on the
battlefield and attained the happy regions above. There is but one course left
to you to make peace with the Pandavas. Do not, O King, any longer continue
this ruinous fight."
Even
at that moment of deep despair, Duryodhana did not relish this counsel.
"Perhaps, there was a time for that, but it is long past. What talk can
there be of peace between the Pandavas and us with all this inexpiable blood
between us, the blood of our dearest and theirs? If I surrender in order to
escape death, how can I escape the contempt of the world? What happiness can I
hope to have in a life so ignobly saved? And what joy can I hope to find in
sovereignty, secured by a peace after my brothers and relatives have all been
slain?"
These words of
Duryodhana were lustily cheered by the others. They supported his stand and
they chose Salya and gave him the supreme command from then on. Salya was
mighty of limb and as brave as any of the warriors who had been killed. The
army was arrayed under his leadership and the battle raged fiercely. On the
side of the Pandavas, Yudhishthira now led the attack personally against Salya.
It astonished everyone to see how the man, who was till then the very
incarnation of gentle ness, fought so furiously.
The battle was equal
for a long while, when Yudhishthira hurled at Salya, his spear that went
straight and struck him. Like the great flagstaff at the end of a festive
function, Salya's body lay lifeless on the field, crimson with blood.
When Salya, the last of
the great generals, fell dead, the Kaurava army lost all hope. The surviving
sons of Dhritarashtra, however, joined together and attacked Bhima from all
sides. He slew them all. The son of Vayu had nourished his burning anger for
thirteen years from the time Draupadi was insulted in the Hall of Assembly. He
said to himself now: "I have not lived in vain, but Duryodhana still
lives," and smiled grimly.
Sakuni led the attack
on Sahadeva's division. After a while, Sahadeva discharged a sharp-edged
sword-arrow saying: "Fool, here is the reward for your great sin." It
went straight and cut through Sakuni's neck like a sword. And the head, which was
at the root of all the wicked deeds of the Kauravas, rolled on the ground.
Left leaderless, the
wreck of the broken army scattered and fled in all directions, pursued and
slaughtered to a man by the exulting victors.
"'Thus utterly was
destroyed thine army of eleven Akshauhinis, O! Bharata, out of the thousands of
kings, who espoused thy cause in their pride and might, only Duryodhana could
be seen on that battlefield, fainting and sore wounded," said Sanjaya,
describing the debacle to the blind king.
After doing, in vain,
all he could to rally his defeated army, Duryodhana, left almost alone, took up
his mace and walked towards a pool of water. His whole frame was burning like
fire, and water attracted him. "The wise Vidura knew what would happen and
he told us," he said to himself, as he entered the water.
Of what avail is wisdom
that comes too late? What has been done must produce its result that has to be
suffered. That is the law. Yudhishthira and his brothers arrived there in
relentless, pursuit of their great enemy.
"Duryodhana!"
exclaimed Yudhishthira, "after destroying family and tribe, would you
yourself escape death by concealing yourself in this pond? Where is your pride
now? Have you no shame? Come up and fight. A kshatriya by birth, do you shrink
battle and death?"
Stung to the quick by
these words, Duryodhana replied with dignity: "I have not come here,
Dharmaputra, a fugitive for my life. It was not fear that brought me here. I
stepped into the water to cool the fire that is raging within me. I neither
fear death nor wish to live, but why should I fight? The earth has now nothing
left that I came to fight for! All those who stood by me have been slain. My
desire for kingdom is gone. I leave the world to you without a rival. Enjoy it
in undisputed sovereignty."
Yudhishthira replied:
"Now, that is really generous, especially after you said you would not
allow us even a needle-point of land. When we begged for peace and entreated
you to give us a portion, you spurned our proposal. Now, you say we may take it
all. It is not for kingdom or land that we fight. Must I recount all your sins?
The wrongs you did us, and the outrage you perpetrated on Draupadi, cannot be
expiated except with your life."
Sanjaya, who related
the events to the blind old king, here said: "When your son Duryodhana
heard these harsh and cruel words spoken by Dharmaputra, he at once rose from
the water, mace in hand."
Stepping out of the
pool, the unfortunate Duryodhana said: "Come, one by one, all of you, for
I am single. You five will surely not join together and attack me who am alone
and without armor, weary and wounded all over."
Yudhishthira replied
sharply: "If indeed it be wrong for many to join together and attack a
single person, pray tell us how
Abhimanyu was attacked and killed? Did you not consent to many combining and
attacking that boy, standing all alone amidst your crowd? Yes, when men face
misfortune, they see and preach dharma and chivalry to others. Wear your coat
of armor. Choose any of us you like and fight. Die and go to swarga or win and
be king."
Accordingly, the combat
began between Bhima and Duryodhana. Sparks of fire flew when their maces
clashed. Duryodhana and Bhima were equal in strength and skill, and the battle
raged long, and the issue hung doubtful. Those, who stood watching, were
debating as to whom would win. Krishna said to Arjuna that Bhima would redeem
the oath he swore in the Hall of Assembly and smash Duryodhana's thighs. Bhima
heard this and, at that moment, the memory of the great outrage came vividly to
his mind.
He leaped like a lion
and came down with his mace on Duryodhana's thighs and broke them and
Duryodhana fell heavily on the ground, wounded to death.
Bhima jumped on the
prostrate body of his enemy, stamped on his head with his heavy foot and danced
a terrible dance.
"Cease,
Bhima," cried Dharmaraja. "You have paid off the debt. Duryodhana is
a prince and a cousin. It is not right to put your foot on his head."
Said Krishna:"Soon
the wicked man's soul will depart from the body. Sons of Pandu, Duryodhana and
his friends have been slain. Why linger here? On to your chariots."
When Krishna said this,
the face of the fallen Duryodhana glowed like a blazing fire with anger and
hatred. Turning his eyes towards Krishna be said:
"By base tricks
you contrived the death of warriors, who fought bravely according to the laws
of war. You could not have dreamt of victory in a fair fight with Karna or
Bhishma or Drona. Have you not a spark of shame left?"
Even dying, Duryodhana
felt no regret for all that he had done.
"Duryodhana,"
said Krishna, "vainly do you accuse others. Greed and pride of power led
you to unnumbered wicked deeds and you are reaping as you sowed."
"Wretch!"
replied Duryodhana. "Living, I was a great prince, generous friend, and a
terrible foe. All human joys, such joys as kings wish for in vain, and even
Gods do not despise, have been mine, in their fullness. A warrior's death is
the fitting crown of such a life. Dying, I go triumphantly to swarga to join my
friends and my brothers who have gone there already and are waiting to welcome
me. You remain here below, your objects defeated and yourselves the object of
contempt of all kshatriyas. I do not mind Bhima putting his foot on my head as
I lie helpless on the ground with legs broken. What care I? In a few minutes
more will not the feet of crows and vultures settle on my head?"
When Duryodhana said
this, flowers were showered down from the heavens by the gods. Inordinate
desire took Duryodhana into the wrong path, whence ensued anger and numerous
breaches of dharma. But no one could question the unconquerable spirit of
Dhritarashtra's son.
WHEN the war was
nearing its end, Balarama arrived at Kurukshetra after completing his tour of
holy places. He came just when Bhima and Duryodhana were engaged in their last
mortal combat. He saw Bhima aiming the deadly blow which broke Duryodhana's
thighs, and his anger flamed up at this great breach of the rules of single
combat.
"Fie upon you all!
Would any kshatriya hit below the navel? This Bhima has offended the law most
disgracefully," he exclaimed and impatiently going up to his brother
Krishna, shouted:
"You can look on
and tolerate all this. But I cannot bear to see such unclean fighting!"
Saying this he advanced towards the offending Bhima with upraised plough. The
plough was Balarama's weapon on supreme occasions, as the discus was Krishna's.
Krishna was alarmed when he saw his elder brother advancing in a passion
towards Bhima.
He rushed forward and,
intercepting him, said: "The Pandavas are our friends and closest
relations. They have been the victims of insufferable wrongs at the hands of
Duryodhana. When Draupadi was insulted in the Assembly Hall, Bhima vowed: 'I
will one day in battle break the two thighs of Duryodhana with this mace and
kill him.' He proclaimed this solemn oath at that time and everyone has known
it. It is the duty of a kshatriya to fulfil the vow he has solemnly taken. Do
not let your anger mislead you and do not be unjust to the innocent Pandavas.
You should, before condemning Bhima, take into account all the wrongs that the
Kauravas have done to the Pandavas. Nothing but error can result if one
proceeds to judge conduct without taking into account the chain of events
leading up to it. You cannot snatch a particular act out of its context and
proceed to give judgment on it alone without gross injustice. The era of Kali
has arrived, when the laws of a previous age cannot apply. It was not wrong for
Bhima to strike below the navel an enemy who had wickedly contrived against his
life on many occasions. It was because of Duryodhana's foul instigation that
Karna sent a shaft from behind and broke Abhimanyu's bowstring when he was
defending himself against heavy odds. Arjuna's young son was attacked by numerous
warriors who surrounded him, when he stood all by himself in the field,
deprived of bow and chariot, and in a most cowardly manner, killed him.
Duryodhana thought evil and practised deception from the time of his birth and
has brought about the destruction of his people. There is no sin in Bhima
killing this man. Bhima bore the wrongs done and kept his wrath within himself
for thirteen long years. Duryodhana knew well that Bhima had sworn to break his
thighs and kill him. When he challenged the aggrieved Pandavas to battle, he
knew very well that he invited Bhima to make good his oath. How can you think
that it was wrong for Bhima to do this?"
Krishna's words did not
change Balarama's opinion, but his anger subsided. "Duryodhana will attain
the happy regions reserved for the brave. Bhima's fame has been tarnished for
all time. It will be said among men that the son of Pandu broke the laws of war
in attacking Duryodhana. It will remain forever a great blot on his good name.
I hate to stay here any longer." So saying the indignant Balarama
immediately left for Dwaraka.
"Yudhishthira, why
this strange silence?" asked Krishna.
"O Madhava, it
hurts me to see Bhima leap on cousin Duryodhana's mortally wounded body and
trample on his head. I see the end of the glory of our race. We were wronged by
the Kauravas. I know the full measure of grief and anger in Vrikodara's heart,
and don't wish to blame him beyond reason. We have killed Duryodhana, who was
afflicted by uncontained greed and poverty of understanding. What serves it now
to debate the ethics of it or nicely
to weigh the propriety of a much wronged man's revenges?"
Yudhishthira was
greatly oppressed in mind. When men transgress the law, extenuations and
excuses are of no avail in giving mental satisfaction.
Arjuna, of penetrating
intellect, was silent. He did not show approval of Bhima's act. Nor did he say
anything by way of detraction. The rest of the people, who were there, were
however loud in condemnation of Duryodhana and were reminding one another of
all his misdeeds and errors. Krishna turned towards them and said:
"Warriors, it is
not proper that we go on speaking against an enemy who has been defeated and is
lying mortally wounded. We should not speak ill of a dying man. He was stupid
and brought about his own end. He fell into the company of bad men and was
ruined. Let us go."
Duryodhana, who was
stretched on the ground in intense, agony, when he heard Krishna say this, went
into a paroxysm of rage. He half raised himself on his arms in spite of the
excruciating pain, and exclaimed:
"Wretch! Son of a
slave! Was not your father Vasudeva Kamsa's slave? You have no business to sit
or move with princes. You speak like a shameless wretch. I saw you instigate
Bhima to aim his blow at my thigh! Do you think I did not see you, making as
though casually talking to Arjuna, pointing to your thigh, but really
indicating to Bhima that he should strike me on the thighs, disregarding the
laws of single combat? Till then it had been equal battle. You have neither
pity nor shame. Did you not contrive the death of the grandsire Bhishma through
stratagem? You advised Sikhandin to be placed in front when attacking Bhishma,
knowing that the grandsire would scorn to fight a woman, and would let himself
be mortally wounded without resistance. You brought about the end of
Dronacharya through making Dharmaputra utter a falsehood. You were the father
of that deadly lie that issued from Yudhishthira's mouth, and made Dronacharya
throw his bow away. Did you not look on without protest, and rejoice, when
that, wretch Dhrishtadyumna attacked and killed the acharya who had stopped
fighting, throwing away his weapons, and settled down in yoga posture for
meditation on the Supreme? Was it not you who wickedly contrived to make Karna
hurl the fatal spear at Ghatotkacha instead of reserving it for Arjuna as he
had all along resolved to do? O great sinner, surely it was you who instigated
Satyaki to butcher Bhurisravas when his right arm had been foully cut off and
he stopped fighting and spread his arrows for a seat for holy meditation. It
was you who brought about the death of Karna by inducing Arjuna to attack him
in a cowardly manner when he was engaged in lifting his chariot wheel which had
sunk and stuck in the mud in the
field of battle. Oh worthless man, sole cause of our destruction, the whole world
has condemned your act when by sorcery you made it appear as if the sun had
set. You made Jayadratha, the Sindhu
king, believe that the day was over and he was past danger, and thus he was
slain when he was off his guard."
Thus did Duryodhana
pour his denunciation against Krishna and then, exhausted by the pain of his
wounds and the violence of his rage, he fell prostrate again.
"Son of
Gandhari," said Krishna, "why do you let your anger add to the pain
of your last moments? It is your own misdeeds that have brought about your end.
Do not attribute it to me. Bhishma and Drona had to die on account of your
sins. So also were you the cause of the death of Karna and others. Need I
recount all the wrongs that you were guilty of against the sons of Pandu? What
punishment can be too severe for the great outrage, which you inflicted on
Draupadi? The animosities and passions that resulted from your misdeeds cannot
be made ground for condemning others. All the deceptions and lapses you charge
us with were forced on us by reason of your wicked conduct. You have paid off
on the battlefield the debt incurred by your greed. But you are dying the death
of a brave man. You will go to the happy regions reserved for kshatriyas who
lay down their lives on the field of battle."
"Krishna, I go to
swarga with my friends and relatives. But you and your friends will live on
earth to suffer," said the stubborn Duryodhana. "I studied the Vedas.
I have given gifts ordained by law and I have reigned supreme over all the sea-girt
earth. While I lived, I stood upon the humbled heads of foes. All human joys,
such joys as even the Gods cannot despise and kings sigh for in vain, the very
pinnacle of power, were mine. Dying now, such death as warriors deem the crown
of kshatriya life, I go to meet in heaven my friends and brothers gone before,
eager to welcome me. Who is more blest, I, or you who, doomed to linger here,
mourning for slaughtered friends in desolate homes, find the long sought
triumph but ashes in your mouth?" said Duryodhana. And the gods showered
flowers down on the dying warrior and the gandharvas played music and the sky
was illuminated. Vasudeva and the Pandavas felt small.
"There is
truth," said Krishna, "in what Duryodhana said. You could not have
defeated him by fair means. This wicked man was invincible in battle."
WHEN Aswatthama heard
how Duryodhana lay mortally injured, and learnt the details of the combat, his
righteous anger swelled like the sea. The deception, practised by the Pandavas
in order to bring about his father's end, had been rankling in his mind.
Now, when he learnt how
Duryodhana had been stricken down mortally against all rules of chivalry, he
went to the spot where Duryodhana was lying and there took an oath that he
would that night send the Pandavas to the abode of Yama.
Duryodhana, who was in
the last physical agony of departing life, was transported with joy when he
heard Aswatthama take this oath. He immediately ordered those who stood nearby
to install Aswatthama as Supreme Commander of the Army with due ceremony and,
when that was over, said to Him: "All my hopes are in you."
It was sunset and the
forest was in utter darkness when under a big banian tree Kripacharya,
Kritavarma and Aswatthama halted for rest. They were so greatly fatigued that
Kripacharya and Kritavarma fell fast asleep as soon as they lay down.
But Aswatthama did not
get sleep, for sorrow, indignation and hatred burnt within him. He was
listening to the noises that the nocturnal birds and prowling beasts began to
make as the night advanced. He was turning over in his mind how to execute his
promise to Duryodhana.
On the branches of the
banian tree, under which the three warriors were resting, hundreds of crows
roosted. They were all quiet and asleep until a big owl came and began to
attack the birds one after another and kill them. When Aswatthama saw the
nocturnal bird of prey tear the helpless crows, he got an idea. The crows that
could not see at night flew round and round helplessly and fell victims to the
owl that attacked them violently.
"These wicked
Pandavas and the Panchala that killed my father and all their supporters can
easily be killed by us, if we surprise them when they are sleeping in their
tents at night even as this owl is attacking these blind crows. Thus can I
avenge the deeds of foul play they have practised on us. I am deeply indebted
to this bird of prey from whom I have received the teaching. There is no
offence in adopting plans to suit one's altered circumstances. If we can
lawfully attack an enemy, when his army is tired or when his forces are
scattered, why then should not we, who have lost our armies, attack our enemies
when they are asleep? There can be nothing wrong in it. Indeed it is only thus
that we can punish and defeat these Pandavas who have achieved successes
through foul play. We have no other
course open."
Aswatthama made up his
mind and he immediately woke up Kripacharya and informed him of his plan.
Kripacharya, who heard it, was astonished.
"This can never
be," said he. "It is wholly wrong. To attack men who have retired to
sleep, has never been done before. It would be an unprecedented crime against
the laws of kshatriya conduct. Aswatthama, for whom are we fighting? The man
for whose sake we joined in this war has been fatally wounded and his end has
arrived. We have discharged our obligations most loyally. We fought our best
for the greedy and wrongheaded Duryodhana but we failed irretrievably. There is
no purpose now in our continuing the fight and it is folly to do so. Let us go
to Dhritarashtra and the faultless Gandhari, and place ourselves at their
disposal. Let us take counsel of wise Vidura also. They will tell us what lies
before us to do."
When Kripacharya spoke
thus, Aswatthama's grief and indignation increased and he spoke bitterly:
"Everyone feels
sure that what he thinks is the only right and proper thing to do. One's
understanding naturally limits one's vision. These Pandavas have been guilty of
the foulest conduct. They killed my noble and trustful father through a lie.
They have killed Duryodhana against the laws of chivalry. I have no doubt in my
mind that what I propose to do is quite proper vengeance for all these foul
deeds. It is only if I carry out this plan that I can possibly repay my debt to
my king and to my father. I have decided on it and I do not propose to alter my plan. I am going tonight to the
tents where they are sleeping having cast
off their armor and there I will kill the Pandavas and Dhrishtadyumna while they are asleep."
Kripacharya was deeply
grieved to hear Aswatthama speak thus: "You have attained a great name
among men," he pleaded, "Your spotless character will by this be
blemished, even like a milk-white cloth bespattered with blood. Never could it
be right to kill sleeping men. Desist from this."
"Sir, what are you
talking? These Pandavas butchered my father when he had thrown away all his
weapons and had sat down in prayer. These men have breached the embankment of
dharma and released the flood, and not a, drop of dharma is now left! Karna,
who was on the ground putting right the wheel of his chariot, was murdered by
these lawless rascals. Bhima has killed Duryodhana with a blow below the navel.
What dharma has been left for us to follow? The Pandavas have, once for all,
destroyed the wall of dharma. Why should we make research into law and chivalry
when dealing with these ruffians who have attained successes by destroying
both? If by killing the sleeping Panchalas, who butchered my great father, I
may be doomed to rebirth in the body of a foul bird or of a wriggling worm, I
do not care. I seek such a birth!"
Saying this and,
without waiting for an answer, Aswatthama proceeded to harness his horses and
get his chariot ready to start. When he was about to leave Kripacharya and Kritavarma
cried: "Stop. What are you resolved upon doing, Aswatthama? We cannot
approve of it, but neither can we desert you in your desperate enterprise. The
path you are bent on treading, we shall also follow. The sin you are resolved
upon, let us share also." So, they went along with him. Thus does evil
grow! One transgression begets the next and thus evil grows from evil
submerging righteousness. Evil flourishes on retaliation.
They reached the
Pandava camp. Dhrishtadyumna had doffed his armor and was plunged in deep
slumber in his tent. Aswatthama leapt on the sleeping warrior and, before he
could put himself into a posture of defence, cruelly kicked him to death.
The same process was
relentlessly repeated until all the Panchalas and all the sons of Draupadi were
killed one by one when they were plunged in sleep in their tents.
After having done this
deed, the like of which had never before been considered possible among
kshatriyas, Kripacharya, Kritavarma and Aswatthama came out of the tents and
set fire to the camp. When the fire spread, the sleeping soldiers were awakened
and fled hither and thither in confusion, even like the crows on the banian
tree under which they had rested in the forest, and they were mercilessly
slaughtered by Aswatthama.
"We have done our
duty," said Dronacharya's son. "Let us go and give the glad news to
Duryodhana, if we can reach him, before he expires. Let him die pleased."
The three of them
accordingly hurried to Duryodhana.
"O, DURYODHANA,
you are yet alive, hear the news and rejoice! All the Panchalas have been
slaughtered. The sons of the Pandavas have also been all done to death. The
entire army of theirs has been destroyed. We made a night attack on them when
they were asleep. There are only seven survivors now on the Pandava side. On
our side, Kripacharya, Kritavarma and I remain."
Thus said Aswatthama to
the dying Duryodhana who, on hearing this, slowly opened his eyes and, with
struggling breath, gasped out these words:
"Aswatthama, you
have indeed done for me what neither the great Bhishma nor the valiant Karna
could achieve! You have gladdened my heart and I die happy." Saying this,
Duryodhana expired.
When he saw the
unexpected destruction of his army as a result of the attack during sleep, Yudhishthira
gave way to grief and broke down:
"At the very
moment of victory, we have been totally defeated. The vanquished have indeed
triumphed. Draupadi's children, who survived the onslaught of the formidable
Karna, have, by our unwariness, been crushed and destroyed like vermin. We have
allowed ourselves to be destroyed like a merchant ship which, having
successfully crossed the big seas, returns home but capsizes in a ditch and is
lost."
Draupadi was
overwhelmed by inconsolable grief. She came to Dharmaputra's side and wept.
"Is there no one to avenge my children's slaughter, by destroying this
great sinner Aswatthama?" she cried.
When she said this, the
Pandavas immediately went out in search of the murderer. They looked for him in
all sorts of places and found him, at last, on the bank of the Ganga, hiding
himself behind Vyasa.
When he saw the
Pandavas and Janardana approaching, Aswatthama quietly took up a blade of grass
and charged it with the mantra of destruction and sent it forward saying:
"May this destroy the race of the Pandavas." And it went straight to
the womb of Uttara who bore in her the son of Abhimanyu.
The race of the
Pandavas would have been destroyed thereby but for the intervention of Sri
Krishna who saved the child in the mother's womb. This child was Parikshit who
was later crowned by Yudhishthira when the Pandavas retired to the forest.
Aswatthama pried out
the shining jewel that was part of his head and gave it to Bhima, acknowledging
his defeat, and went away to the forest. Bhima took the great jewel and, going
to Draupadi said: "Angel of spotless purity, this is for you. The man, who
killed your beloved sons, has been vanquished. Duryodhana has been destroyed. I
have drunk the blood of Duhsasana. I have avenged the great outrage and
discharged my debts."
Draupadi took the jewel
and, going up to Yudhishthira bowed and said: "Faultless king, it befits
you to wear this in your crown."
WHEN the battle was
over, Hastinapura was a city of mourning. All the women and children were
weeping and lamenting their slain, nearest and dearest. With many thousands of
bereaved women accompanying, Dhritarashtra went to the field of battle. At
Kurukshetra, the scene of terrible destruction, the blind king thought of all that
had passed, and wept aloud. But, of what avail was weeping?
"O
king, words of consolation addressed to a bereaved person do not remove his
grief. Thousands of rulers have given up their lives in battle for your sons.
It is now time that you should arrange for proper funeral ceremonies for the
dead," said Sanjaya to Dhritarashtra.
"It is not right
to grieve for those who die in battle. When souls have left their bodies, there
is nothing like relationship, nothing like brother or son or relative. Your sons
have really no connection with you. Relationship ends with death, being only a
bodily connection and a mere minor incident in the soul's eternal life. From the nowhere do lives come, and, with
death, they again disappear into
nowhere. Why should we weep for them? Those who die in battle after a heroic
fight go as guests to receive Indra's hospitality. Grieving for what is past,
you cannot gain anything in the nature of dharma, pleasure or wealth."
Thus, and in many more ways, did the wise and good Vidura try to assuage the
king's grief.
Vyasa also approached
Dhritarashtra tenderly and said: "Dear son, there is nothing that you do
not know and which you have to learn from me. You know very well that all
living beings must die. This great battle came to reduce earth's burden as I
have heard from Lord Vishnu Himself. That is why this calamity could not be
prevented. Henceforth, Yudhishthira is your son. You should try to love him and
in that way bear the burden of life, giving up grief."
Making his way, through
the crowd of weeping women Yudhishthira approached Dhritarashtra and bowed
before him. Dhritarashtra embraced Yudhishthira, but there was no love in that
embrace.
Then Bhimasena was
announced to the blind king. "Come," said Dhritarashtra.
But Vasudeva was wise.
He gently pushed Bhima aside and placed an iron figure before the blind
Dhritarashtra, knowing the old king's exceeding anger. Dhritarashtra hugged the
metal statue to his bosom in a firm embrace and then the thought came to him of
how this man had killed everyone of his sons. And his wrath increased to such a
pitch that the image was crushed to pieces in his embrace.
"Ha! My anger has
deceived me," cried Dhritarashtra. "I have killed dear Bhima."
Then Krishna said to
the blind king:
"Lord, I knew that
it would be thus and I prevented the disaster. You have not killed Bhimasena.
You have crushed only an iron image that I placed instead before you. May your
anger be appeased with what you have done to this image. Bhima is still alive."
The king was composed
somewhat and he blessed Bhima and the other Pandavas who then took leave of him
and went to Gandhari.
Vyasa was with
Gandhari. "Oh queen,"said the rishi, "be not angry with the
Pandavas. Did you not tell them even when the battle began: 'Where there is
dharma, there surely will be victory'? And so it has happened. It is not right
to let the mind dwell on what is past and nurse one's anger. You must now call
to aid your great fortitude."
Gandhari said:
"Bhagavan, I do not envy the victory of the Pandavas. It is true that
grief for the death of my sons has robbed me of my understanding. These
Pandavas also are my sons. I know that Duhsasana and Sakuni brought about this
destruction of our people. Arjuna and Bhima are blameless. Pride brought this
battle about and my sons deserve the fate they have met. I do not complain
about it. But then, in Vasudeva's presence, Bhima called Duryodhana to battle
and they fought. And, knowing that Duryodhana was stronger and could not be defeated in single combat, Bhima
struck him below the navel and killed him. Vasudeva was looking on. This was
wrong and it is this that I find it impossible to forgive."
Bhima, who heard this,
came near and said: "Mother, I did this to save myself in battle. Whether
it was right or wrong, you should bear with me. Your son was invincible in
combat and so I did in self-protection what was undoubtedly wrong. He called
Yudhishthira to play and deceived him. We had been wronged by your son in so
many ways. He would not give back the kingdom, of which be took unlawful
possession. And you know what your son did to blameless Draupadi. If we had
killed your son on the spot, when he misbehaved in the Hall of Assembly, surely
you would not have blamed us. Bound by Dharmaraja's vow, we restrained
ourselves with difficulty then. We have since discharged honor's debt and found
satisfaction in battle. Mother, you should forgive me."
"Dear son, if you
had left but one out of my hundred sons and killed all the rest and satisfied
your anger, I and my old husband would have found solace in that surviving son
for the rest of our lives. Where is Dharmaputra? Call him." She said.
Hearing this,
Yudhishthira trembled as he, with clasped hands, approached Gandhari, whose
eyes were bound in a cloth in loyal lifelong penance for her husband's
blindness. He bowed low before her and said softly:
"Queen, the cruel
Yudhishthira, who killed your sons, stands before you fit to be cursed. Do
curse me who have committed great sin. I care not for life or for kingdom."
Saying this, he fell on the ground and touched her feet.
Gandhari heaved a deep
sigh and stood mute. She turned her head aside knowing that if, through the
cloth with which her eyes were bound, her vision fell on the prostrate
Yudhishthira he would be reduced to ashes on the spot. But through a little
space in the cloth, even as she turned her face away, her eyes fell on the toe
of the prostrate Yudhishthira. At once, says the poet, the toe was charred
black.
Arjuna knew the power
of bereaved Gandhari's wrath, and hid himself behind Vasudeva. The wise and
good Gandhari suppressed all her anger and blessed the Pandavas and sent them
to Kunti.
Gandhari turned to
Draupadi, who was in lamentation, having lost all her sons. "Dear
girl," said Gandhari. "Do not grieve. Who can give solace to you and
me? It is through my fault that this great tribe has been destroyed
altogether."
THE Pandavas performed
the til and water ceremonies for the peace of the souls of the dead warriors and
camped on the bank of the Ganga for a month.
One day, Narada
appeared before Yudhishthira. "Son, through Krishna's grace, the valor of
Arjuna and the power of your dharma, you were victorious and you are the
sovereign lord of the land. Are you happy?" he asked.
Yudhishthira replied:
"Bhagavan, it is true the kingdom has come into my possession. But my
kinsmen are all gone. We have lost sons that were dear. This victory appears to
me but a great defeat. O Narada, we took our own brother for an enemy and killed
him, even Karna who stood rooted like a rock in his honor and at whose valor
the world wondered. This terrible act of slaying our own brothers was the
result of our sinful attachment to our possessions. Karna, on the other hand,
kept the promise he gave to our mother and abstained from killing us. Oh! I am
a sinner, a low fellow who murdered his own brother. My mind is troubled
greatly at this thought. Karna's feet were so much like our mother's feet. In
the large hall, when that great outrage was committed and my anger rose, when I
looked at his feet, which were so much like Kunti's feet, my wrath subsided. I
remember that now and my grief increases."
So saying, Yudhishthira
heaved a deep sigh. Narada told him all about Karna and the curses that had
been pronounced on him on various occasions.
Once, when Karna saw
that Arjuna was superior to him in archery, he approached Drona and entreated
him to teach him how to wield the Brahmastra. Drona declined saying it was not
open to him to instruct any but a brahmana of faultless conduct or a kshatriya
who had purified himself by much penance. Thereupon, Karna went to the Mahendra
hills and deceived Parasurama by saying that he was a brahmana and became his
disciple. From him he obtained instruction in archery and the use of many
astras.
One day, when Karna was
practising with his bow in the forest near Parasurama's asrama, a brahmana's
cow was accidentally hit and killed. The brahmana was angry and uttered a curse
on Karna: "In battle, your chariot wheels will stick in the mud and you
will be done to death, even like this innocent cow which you have killed."
Parasurama was
exceedingly fond of Karna and taught him all the archery he knew and instructed
him fully in the use and the withdrawing of the Brahmastra.
One day, however, he
discovered that the disciple was not a brahmana. It happened tha an an insect
bit a hole into Karna's thigh when one afternoon the teacher had fallen asleep
on Karna's lap. Karna bore the acute pain quietly and did not stir, lest the
master should wake up. The warm blood trickling from the wound woke up
Parasurama. When he saw what had happened, he was angry.
"You are a
kshatriya; otherwise you could not have borne this physical pain without
stirring. Tell me the truth. You are not a brahmana. You have deceived your
teacher. Fool! When your hour comes, your knowledge of astras will fail you and
what you have learnt from me through deception will not avail you."
Parasurama's wrath
against kshatriyas is well known and, when he discovered that Karna was a
kshatriya, he cursed him thus in his anger.
Karna was free in
making gifts. One day, Indra, who was Arjuna's father, came in the garb of a
brahmana and begged of Karna for a gift of the divine earrings and armor with
which he had been born. Karna took them out and gave them away accordingly.
From that time, Karna's strength was reduced.
"Karna's pledge to
his mother Kunti that he would not kill more than one of the five of you,
Parasurarna's curse, the anger of the brahmana whose cow was killed by Karna,
the way in which his charioteer Salya depressed him by underrating his valor and
Vasudeva's stratagems, these combined to bring about Karna's end. Do not grieve
believing that you alone caused his death." Thus said Narada, but
Yudhishthira was not consoled by these words.
"Do not blame
yourself, son, for Karna's, death," said Kunti. "His father, the sun
lord himself, pleaded with him. He begged of him to give up the wicked-hearted
Duryodhana and join you. I too tried hard. But he would not listen to us. He
brought his end on himself."
"You deceived us,
mother" said Yudhishthira, "by hiding the secret of his birth from
us. You became thus the cause of this great sin. May women never be able to
keep a secret henceforth."
This is the poet's
story of how Yudhishthira cursed all women in his anguish over having killed
his own elder brother. It is a common notion that women cannot keep secrets.
And this story is a beautiful conception illustrating that popular belief.
It may be that in
worldly affairs, it is an advantage to be able to keep secrets. But it is not
great virtue from the point of view of moral character, and women need not
grieve over an incapacity of this kind, if indeed Kunti's legacy still
persists.
The affectionate
temperament natural to women may perhaps incline them to openness. But some
women do keep secrets very well indeed, and not a man possess this ability
either. It is a fallacy to attribute the differences that arise out of training
and occupation on nature itself and imagine some qualities as peculiar to a
sex.
Yudhishthira's pain of
mind increased everyday as he thought of all the kinsmen that had been killed.
he was stricken with intense remorse and decided he must give up the world go
to the forest and do penance to expiate his sin.
"I see no joy or
good," he said to his brothers, in taking up the office of king or in
worldly enjoyment. Do rule the land yourselves leaving me free to go to the
forest."
Arjuna talked of the
nobility of family life and the entire good one may do without taking sanyasa.
Bhimasena also spoke and harshly.
"You talk,
alas"' he said, "like a dull-witted person who has committed to
memory the texts of the sastras without understanding their sense. Sanyasa is
not the dharma of kshatriyas. The duty of a kshatriya, is to live an active
life and perform his proper task, not to go to the forest renouncing
activity."
Nakula also contested
the propriety of Dharmaputra's proposal and insisted that the path of work was
the right one to follow and the way of sanyasa was beset with difficulties.
Sahadeva also argued
likewise and entreated: "You are my father, my mother, my teacher, as well
as brother. Do not leave us, bear with us."
Draupadi also spoke.
"It was right we killed Duryodhana and his men. Why should we regret it?
Among the duties of a king is included the inflicting of just punishment. It
cannot be avoided and is an essential part of the ruler's duty. You have meted
just punishment too evildoers. There is no cause whatsoever for contrition. It
is now your sacred duty to take up the burden of governing the land according
to dharma. Cease grieving."
Then Vyasa spoke to
Yudhishthira at length and explained where his duty lay, pointing out
precedents, and persuaded him to go to the city and take up the burden of
ruling the land.
Yudhishthira was duly
crowned at Hastinapura. Before taking up the duties of the State, Yudhishthira
went to where Bhishma lay on his bed of arrows awaiting his death, and took his
blessing and instruction in dharma. This instruction of Bhishmacharya to king
Yudhishthira is the famous Santiparva of the Mahabharata. After the discourse
was over, Bhishma's soul passed out. The king went to the Ganga and offered
libations, in accordance with ancient custom, for the peace of the departed
soul.
After the ceremony was
over, Yudhishthira went up the bank. There, as he stood for a while, all the
tragic events came back to his mind, and overcome by intense grief, he fell
senseless on the ground, like an elephant struck down by the hunter.
Bhima went up to his
big brother and caressed him tenderly and spoke to him soothing words.
Dhritarashtra also came up and said to Yudhishthira:
AFTER the libation
ceremony for Bhishma was over, Vyasa narrated to grief-stricken Yudhishthira an
episode in Brihaspati's life. The wisest of men are sometimes affected by envy
and suffer thereby. Brihaspati, teacher to the gods themselves, was master of all
knowledge. He was learned in all the Vedas and all the sciences, yet he was
once the victim of this debasing emotion and suffered disgrace.
Brihaspati had a
younger brother, Samvarta, who was also a person of great learning and a very
good man. Brihaspati was, for this reason, stricken with envy of his brother.
In this world men
become envious of others, just because the others are good, while they
themselves are not so good, and they cannot bear this. It is strange indeed
that men should not suffer even virtue in others.
Brihaspati harassed
Samvarta in many ways. When he could not stand it any more, poor Samvarta put
on the appearance of an eccentric and wandered from place to place, and spent
his days in that way to escape from his brother's persecution.
King Marutta of the
Ikshwaku dynasty made great penance and obtained from the Lord of Kailasa a
great goldmine in the Himalayas and, with his resources thus augmented, he
decided to perform a great Yajna.
Marutta requested
Brihaspati to conduct the yajna for him. But Brihaspati feared that Marutta
would, as a result of the yajna, overshadow the gods who were his charge.
He refused to comply
with the king's invitation, despite his pressing entreaties. Thereupon, king
Marutta, who had come to know about Samvarta found his whereabouts and
approached him with the invitation to conduct his yajna.
He at first refused and
tried to avoid the honor, but finally yielded. This further increased
Brihaspati's envy of his unfortunate brother.
"Here is this
enemy of mine, Samvarta, going to conduct king Marutta's great yajna. What
shall I do now?" Thus did Brihaspati brood over it until his envy affected
his health. His health declined rapidly and he became thin and pale. His
condition grew worse everyday, until it attracted the attention of Indra
himself.
Indra, chief of the
gods, approached the divine preceptor and saluting him asked: "Lord, why
are you ill? What has caused this languishing? Do you sleep well? Do the attendants
serve you properly? Do they anticipate your wishes and not wait to be told? Do
the gods behave courteously towards you or has there been any lapse in this
respect?"
To Indra's anxious
inquiry, Brihaspati replied: "Deva raja, I sleep on a good bed and in
right time. The attendants serve me with all devotion. There is nothing wanting
in the respect and courtesies shown by the gods." Then his voice failed
and he could not proceed. So great was his prostration of spirit.
"Why are you
grieved?" asked Indra affectionately. "Why have you grown thin and
bloodless? Tell me what troubles your mind."
Brihaspati then told
Indra about it all. "Samvarta is going to conduct a great yajna. It is
this that has made me wan and thin. I cannot help it," said he. Indra was
surprised.
"Learned brahmana,
there is no object of desire that is not already yours. You are wise and
learned, and the gods themselves have accepted you as their priest and wise
counselor. What harm can Samvarta do to you? There is nothing you can lose on
account of him. Why do you needlessly take upon yourself this suffering by mere
envy?"
It was amusing that
Indra should so far and so humanly forget his own history as to give counsel of
good conduct. But Brihaspati refreshed his memory on the point and asked:
"Would you yourself delightedly watch your enemy's power growing? Judge me
by how you would have felt had you been in my position. I beg of you to save me
against this Samvarta. You must find a way to put this man down."
Indra sent for Agni and
said to him: "Go and stop the yajna of Marutta somehow."
The god of fire agreed
and went on this mission. The trees and the creepers along his path caught fire
and the earth trembled as he marched roaring.
He presented himself
before the king in his divine form.
The king was mightily
pleased to see Agni stand before him. He ordered the attendants to do all the
usual honors of hospitality. "Let him be duly seated. Have his feet laved
and bring the gifts proper to his greatness," said the king, and this was
done.
Agni then explained why
he had come. "Do give up this Samvarta. If you require a priest, I shall
bring Brihaspati himself to help you."
Samvarta, who heard
this, was indignant. The wrath of one who led the strict life of a brahmacharin
was exceedingly potent.
"Stop this
chatter!" he said to Agni. "Do not let my anger burn you up."
Fire reduces things to
ashes, but brahmacharya can burn up fire itself!
At Samvarta's anger
Agni, trembling like an aspen leaf, retired quickly. He returned to Indra and told
him what had happened.
The king of the gods
could not believe the story. "Agni, you burn up other things in the world.
How can anything burn you? What is this story of Samvarta’s angry eyes reducing
you to ashes?"'
"Not so, king of
the gods," said Agni. "Brahmic power and the potency born of
brahmacharya are not unknown to you." Agni thus reminded Indra of what the
latter had suffered; incurring the wrath of those whom had attained Brahmic
power.
Indra
did not wrangle but called a Gandharva had said: "Now, Agni has failed. I
want you to go as my messenger and ask Marutta to give up Samvarta. Tell him
that if he does not, he will incur my wrath and be destroyed."
The Gandharva went
accordingly to king Marutta and faithfully conveyed Indra's message and warning.
The king would not
listen. "I cannot be guilty of the deadly sin of deserting a trusting
friend," said the king: "I cannot give up Samvarta."
The Gandharva said:
"O king, how can you survive, when Indra hurls his bolt at you?"
Even as he said this,
the clouds above thundered and everyone knew that the god of the thunderbolt
was coming, and trembled in fear.
The king was in great
fear and entreated Samvarta to save him.
"Fear not,"
said Samvarta to the king, and he proceeded to put the power of his penance
into action.
Indra, who had come to
do battle, was compelled to change over to benevolent peace and to take part in
the yajna as the radiant god of sacrifices. He received the burnt offering in
proper form and retired. Brihaspati's plan of envy failed miserably.
Brahmacharya triumphed. Envy is a deadly sin. It is a universal disease. If
Brihaspati who could defeat the goddess of knowledge herself in learning became
a victim to envy, what is there to say about ordinary mortals?
WHEN the battle was
over, Krishna bade farewell to the Pandavas and went to Dwaraka. While on his
way, he met his old brahmana friend Utanga. Krishna stopped and descending from
his chariot saluted the brahmana.
Utanga returned the
greeting and proceeded to make the usual inquiries about the health and welfare
of relatives. "Madhava, do your cousins the Pandavas and the Kauravas love
one another as brothers should? Are they well and flourishing?" he asked.
The innocent recluse
had not heard about the great battle that had been fought. Krishna was
astounded at the question of his brahmana friend. For a while, he stood silent
not knowing what to say in reply. Then he softly disclosed what had happened.
"Sir, a terrible
battle had been fought by the Pandavas and the Kauravas, I tried hard and
applied every means to prevent the fight and make peace between them. But they
would not listen. Almost all of them have perished on the field of battle. Who
can stop the hand of fate?" Then he related all that had happened.
When Utanga heard the
narrative, he was exceedingly wroth. With eyes red with indignation he spoke to
Madhava: "Vasudeva, were you there standing by and did you let all this
happen? You have indeed failed in your duty. You have surely practised deceit
and led them to destruction. Prepare now to receive my curse!" Vasudeva
smiled and said: "Peace, peace! Calm yourself. Do not use up the fruit of
your great penances in this anger. Listen to what I say and then, if you like,
you may pronounce your curse."
Krishna pacified the
indignant brahmana and appeared to him in his all-embracing form, the
Viswarupa.
"I am born in
various bodies from time to time to save the world and establish the good. In
whatever body I am born, I must act in conformity with the nature of that body.
When I am born as a Deva, I act as a Deva does. If I appear as a Yaksha or as a
Rakshasa, I do everything like a Yaksha or a Rakshasa. If I am born as a human
being, or as a beast, I do what is natural to that birth and complete my task.
I begged very hard of the ignorant Kauravas. They were arrogant and intoxicated
by power and paid no heed to my advice. I tried to intimidate them. Therein
also I failed. I was in wrath and showed them even my Viswarupa. Even that
failed to have an effect. They persisted in wrongdoing. They waged war and
perished. O best among brahmanas, you have no reason to be angry with me."
After this explanation
of Krishna, Utanga recovered his calm. Krishna was, delighted.
"I wish to give a
boon to you. What would you like?" said Krishna.
"Achchyuta,"
said Utanga, "is it not enough I have seen Thee and Thy Form Universal? I
do not desire any further boon."
But Krishna insisted
and the desert wandering simple brahmana said: "Well, my Lord, if you must
give me some boon, let me find water to drink whenever I might feel thirsty.
Give me this boon."
Krishna smiled.
"Is this all? Have it then," he said, and proceeded on his journey.
One day Utanga was very
thirsty and, unable to find water anywhere in the desert, he bethought himself
of the boon he had received.
As soon as be did this,
a Nishada appeared before him, clothed in filthy rags. He had five hunting
hounds in leash and a water-skin strapped to his shoulder.
The Nishada grinned at
Utanga and saying, "You seem to be thirsty. Here is water for you,"
offered the bamboo spout of his water-skin to the brahmana to drink from.
Utanga,
looking at the man and his dogs and his water skin, said in disgust:
"Friend, I do not need it, thank you." Saying this, he thought of
Krishna and reproached him in his mind: "Indeed, was this all the boon you
gave me?"
The outcaste Nishada
pressed Utanga over and over again to quench his thirst, but it only made
Utanga more and more angry and he refused to drink. The hunter and his dogs
disappeared.
Seeing the strange
disappearance of the Nishada, Utanga reflected: "Who was this? He could
not have been a real Nishada. It was certainly a test and I have blundered
miserably. My philosophy deserted me. I rejected the water offered by the
Nishada and proved myself to be an arrogant fool."
Utanga was in great
anguish. A moment later Madhava himself appeared with conch and discus. "O
Purushottama!" exclaimed Utanga; "you put me to a difficult trial.
Was it right of you to try me thus? Make an untouchable offer unclean water to
me, a brahmana, to drink. Was this kind?" asked Utanga. Utanga spoke in
bitter tones.
Janardana smiled.
"O Utanga, for your sake, when you put my boon into action, I asked Indra
to take amrita to you and give it to you as water. He said he could not give to
a mortal what would give him immortality, while he was willing to do anything
else. But I prevailed upon him and he agreed to take amrita and give it to you
as water, provided I let him do it as a Chandala and tested your understanding
and found you willing to take water from a Chandala. I accepted the challenge
believing you had attained jnana and transcended externals. But you have done
this and made me suffer defeat at Indra's hands." Utanga saw his mistake
and was ashamed.
WHEN Yudhishthira was
crowned and installed as king after the Kurukshetra battle, he performed an
aswamedha yajna. As was the custom on occasions of this great horse sacrifice,
all the princes of the land gathered on invitation and the yajna was completed
in great splendor. The brahmanas and the poor and the destitute people, who had
come in great numbers from all parts of the country, received bounteous gifts.
Everything was done in magnificent style and in conformity With the injunctions
relating to the sacrifice.
From somewhere unseen,
a weasel suddenly appeared right in the middle of the assembled guests and
priests in the great pavilion and, after rolling on the ground laughed a loud
human laugh as if in derision. The priests were alarmed at this strange and
unnatural occurrence and wondered whether it was some evil spirit that had come
to pollute and disturb the sacred rites.
The weasel's body was
on one side all shining gold. This remarkable creature turned round and took a
good view of the assembly of princes and learned brahmanas that had come from
various countries and gathered in that great pavilion and began to speak:
"Princes assembled
and priests, listen to me. You no doubt believe that you have completed your
yajna in splendid style. Once upon a time, a poor brahmana who lived in
Kurukshetra made a gift of a pound of maize flour. Your great horse sacrifice
and all the gifts made in that connection are less than that small gift of the
Kurukshetra brahmana. You seem to think too much of your yajna. Pray, be not so
vain about it."
The gathering was
amazed at this strange and impertinent speech of the golden weasel. The
brahmana priests, who had performed the sacrificial rites, went up to the
weasel and spoke to it:
"Wherefrom and why
have you come to this yajna, performed by good and worthy men? Who are you? Why
do you utter words of scorn about our sacrifice? This aswamedha has been duly
completed in every detail in accordance with sastraic injunctions. It is not
proper that you should speak derisively of our great sacrifice. Everyone that
has come to this yajna has been duly attended to and has been accorded suitable
honors and gifts. Everyone is pleased with the gifts and returns happy and
contented. The mantras have been chanted perfectly and the oblations duly
offered. The four castes are pleased. Why do you speak as you do? Do explain
yourself."
The weasel laughed
again and said: "O brahmanas, what I said is true. I do not grudge the
good fortune of king Yudhishthira or the good fortune of any of you. It is not
envy that makes me say this. The yajna, which you have just completed so
showily, is not in truth as great an act as that gift of the poor brahmana,
which I have seen. And in reward for his gift, he and his wife, son and daughter-in-law
were immediately taken to swarga. Listen to my story which is a true narrative
of what I saw myself. Long before you waged your battle there, a brahmana,
lived in Kurukshetra, who obtained his daily food by gleaning in the fields. He
and his wife, son and daughter-in-law, all four lived in this manner. Everyday
in the afternoon they would sit down and have their only meal for the day. On
days when they failed to find enough grain, they would fast until the next
afternoon. They would not keep over any thing for the next day if they got more
than they required for the day. This was the strict unchhavritti discipline
they had pledged themselves to observe. They passed their days thus for many
years, when a great drought came and there was famine all over the land. All
cultivation ceased and there was neither sowing nor harvesting nor any grain
scattered in the fields to be gleaned. For many days the brahmana and his
family starved. One day, after wandering in hunger and heat, with great
difficulty they came home with a small quantity of maize, which they had
gathered. They ground it and after saying their prayers they divided the flour
into four equal parts and, offering thanks to God, sat down eagerly to eat.
Just then, a brahmana entered and he was exceedingly hungry. Seeing an
unexpected guest arrive, they got up and made due obeisance and asked him to
join them. The pure-souled brahmana and his wife and son and daughter-in-law
were exceedingly delighted to have the good fortune of receiving guest at that
juncture. 'Oh best of brahmanas, I am a poor man. This flour of maize was
obtained in accordance with dharma. Pray accept this. May blessings attend on
you,' said the brahmana of Kurukshetra and gave his share of the flour to the
guest. The guest ate it with avidity but he was still hungry when he had
finished. Seeing his hungry and unsatisfied look, the brahmana was grieved and
did not know what to do, when his wife said: 'Lord, give my share also to him.
I shall be glad if the guest's hunger he satisfied.' Saying this, she handed
her share of the flour to her husband to be given to the guest. 'Faithful one,'
said the brahmana, 'the beasts and the birds and all the animals tend the
females of their species with care. May man do worse? I cannot accept your
suggestion. What shall I gain in this or in the other world if I leave you to
starve and suffer hunger, you who help me and serve me to do the sacred duties
of a householder's life? Beloved one, you are now skin and bone and famished
and exceedingly hungry. How can I leave you to suffer in that condition and
hope to attain any good by feeding the guest? No, I cannot accept your offer.'
'You are versed in the sastras, best of brahmanas', replied the wife. 'Is it
not true that dharma, artha and all the objects of human activity are to the
common and equal benefit of both of us who have been joined together? Do look
on me with compassion and take my share of the flour and satisfy the
requirements of this our guest. You are hungry as I am and you should not make
any distinction between us. I entreat you not to deny my request.' The brahmana
yielded and took the wife's share and gave it to the guest who took it greedily
and ate it. But he was still hungry! Great was the distress of the poor
brahmana of Kurukshetra. His son, who saw this, came forward. 'Father, here is
my share,' said he. 'Give it to this guest who seems to be still hungry. I
shall be indeed happy if we shall thus be able to fulfil our duty.' The
father's distress increased. 'Child!' he exclaimed, 'old men can stand
starvation. Youth's hunger is severe. I am not able to find it in my heart to
accept what you say.' The son insisted: 'it is the duty of the son to look
after his father in his declining years. The son is not different from the father.
Is it not said that the father is born afresh in his son? My share of the flour
is yours in truth. I beg of you to accept what I give and feed this hungry
guest.' 'Dear boy, your nobility and your mastery over the senses fill me with
pride. Blessing on you. I shall accept your share!' said the father, and he
took the son's flour and gave it to the guest to eat. The guest ate the third
part of the flour also but he was still hungry! The brahmana, who lived on
scattered grain, was confused. While he was in distress, not knowing that to
do, his daughter-in-law addressed him thus: 'Lord, I shall give my share too
and gladly complete our efforts to feed this guest. I beg of you to accept it
and bless me, your child, for, by that, I shall have eternal good as my
reward.' The father-in-law was sad beyond measure. 'O girl of spotless
character, pale and emaciated as you are from starvation, you propose to give
your part of the food also to me, so that I may earn merit by giving it to this
guest. If I accept your offer, I shall indeed be guilty of cruelty. How could I
possibly look on when you wither in hunger?' The girl would not listen.
'Father, you are lord of my lord and master, preceptor of my preceptor, god of
my god. I implore you to accept my flour. Is not this body of mine dedicated
wholly to serve my lord? You should help me to attain the good. Do take this
flour, I entreat you.' Thus implored by his daughter-in-law, the brahmana
accepted her share of the flour and blessed her saying: 'Loyal girl, may every
good be yours!' The guest received this last portion avidly and ate it and was
satisfied. 'Blessed is your hospitality, given with the purest intent and to
the uttermost of your capacity. Your gift has leased me. Lo there, the gods are
showering flowers in admiration of your extraordinary sacrifice. See the gods
and the Gandharvas have come down in their bright chariots with their
attendants to take you with your family to the happy regions above. Your gift
has achieved swarga for you, as well as for your ancestors. Hunger destroys the
understanding of men. It makes them go aside from the path of rectitude. It
leads them to evil thoughts. The pious, when suffering the pangs of hunger,
lose their steadfastness. But you have, even when hungry, bravely set aside
your attachment to wife and son and placed dharma above all else. Rajasuya
sacrifices and horse sacrifices completed in splendor, would pale into
insignificance before the great sacrifice you have done through this single act
of hospitality. The chariot is waiting for you. Enter and go to swarga, you and
your family.' Saying this the mysterious guest disappeared."
Having related this
story of the Kurukshetra brahmana who lived by gleaning scattered ears of corn
in the field, the weasel continued:
"I was nearby and
caught the fragrance wafted from that flour of the brahmana. It made my head
all gold. I then went and rolled in joy on the ground where some of the flour
had been scattered. It made one side of me into bright gold. I turned on the
other side but there was no more flour left and that part of me is still as it
was. Desirous of getting my body made all gold, I have been trying every place
where men perform great yajnas and penances. I heard that Yudhishthira of world
fame was performing a yajna and came here, believing that this sacrifice might
come up to the standard. But I found it did not. So, I said that your great
aswamedha was not so great as the loft of flour which that brahmana made to his
guest." The weasel then disappeared.
MAN pursues madly the
object of his desire until it is got. When it is in his possession, he is soon
satisfied, but he becomes the slave of ever-fresh longings and fresh griefs and
finds no peace.
Although to fight and
to kill his enemies is a Kshatriyas dharma, what joy can one gets out of power
and position and wealth acquired by slaughter and grief inflicted on brothers
and near relations? It was this that Arjuna pointed out in his powerful plea
before Krishna when the battle commenced. Krishna in answer, explained the
principles of man's activities and the proper discharge of one's duties. But,
what Arjuna felt and argued had also a great deal of force and there was more
truth in it than appeared on the surface.
The Pandavas defeated
the Kauravas and became the unquestioned sovereigns of the land. They took up
their duties and discharged them according to dharma. But, they found not in
victory, the joy that they had expected.
"When the Pandavas
won and obtained the kingdom, how did they treat Dhritarashtra?" asked
king Janamejaya, and Vaisampayana, who recited Vyasa's Mahabharata to the king,
tells the story.
The Pandavas with the
utmost respect treated Dhritarashtra, who was plunged in a sea of grief. They
tried to make him happy. They did nothing to make him feel humiliated.
Yudhishthira issued no orders except with his approval. Gandhari, whose hundred
sons had disappeared like dream-gold, was looked after by Kuntidevi with loving
and sisterly devotion and Draupadi dutifully ministered to them both, with
equal respect.
Yudhishthira furnished
Dhritarashtra's house with rich seats and beds and decorations and all else
that was wanted. He sent from the royal kitchen most dainty and palatable
dishes prepared for him. Kripacharya, lived with Dhritarashtra and kept him
company. Vyasa comforted him with instructive stories of olden times,
calculated to assuage his sorrow.
In the administration
of affairs of the State, Yudhishthira consulted Dhritarashtra and conducted
himself so as to give him the feeling that in truth the kingdom was ruled on
his behalf and that he, as the eldest member of the family, was still the
supreme authority.
Yudhishthira was most
careful in his speech, never to allow himself to say anything to cause pain to
the bereaved old man. The princes, who came to Hastinapura from all parts of
the world, gave Dhritarashtra the same honors; as they did of old, as if he
were still the emperor.
The women attendants
gave Gandhari no occasion to feel her fallen estate. Yudhishthira had
instructed his brothers most strictly that nothing should be done to cause the
slightest pain to their uncle, who had lost all his sons.
The brothers, with
perhaps the exception of Bhima, followed this injunction faithfully.
Dhritarashtra too conducted himself lovingly towards the Pandavas. He showed no
ill will towards them even as they showed him no unkindness. The Pandavas
behaved unexceptionably towards their old uncle. After a time, however, Bhima
began on occasions to give cause for offence. He would sometimes, in
impatience, countermand the old man's instructions. He would let fall in
Dhritarashtra's hearing words like "Those perverse cousins of ours have
themselves to thank for their destruction."
It was not possible for
Bhima to forget or forgive Duryodhana, Karna or Duhsasana. Gandhari felt
intensely grieved when she noticed that Bhima uttered words, which pained
Dhritarashtra. She was, however, a noble and enlightened soul. Whenever she
felt pained at what Bhima said, she would look at Kunti and find peace. For
Kunti was a veritable embodiment of dharma and inspired forbearance. Fifteen
years passed in this manner.
FIFTEEN years passed
under king Yudhishthira's reign, when old Dhritarashtra found himself utterly
unable any longer to bear the burden of grief.
Hurt by Bhima's
occasional reproaches, he found no heart to accept the courtesies and comforts
provided under king Yudhishthira's orders. Unknown to the Pandavas, he secretly
fasted and underwent hard penances.
Gandhari too observed
manifests and inflicted privation on her. And one day Dhritarashtra sent for
Dharmaputra and spoke to him thus:
"Son, blessings on
you. I have spent fifteen happy years under your roof. You have tended me most
lovingly. I have made gifts and offerings to ancestors and fulfilled all my
desires in that respect. Bereaved Gandhari, laying aside her own grief, has
ministered to my physical wants all these years. My cruel sons, who committed
unforgivable wrong to Draupadi and deprived you of your lawful inheritance,
perished on account of their sins. But they fought like brave soldiers and died
in the battlefield and have gone to the happy regions reserved for the brave.
The time has come when with Gandhari I must do what has to be done for our next
state. You know what the sastras have lain down. I must now go to the forest.
These robes must be replaced by bark and tattered old clothes, suitable for the
life of Vanaprastha. I desire to go and live in the forest, praying for your
good. I want your permission for this. Let me follow the practice of our
fathers. As king, you will share in the fruits of my penance."
Yudhishthira received a
shock when he saw Dhritarashtra and heard him say this. "I did not
know," he said, "that you had been fasting and sleeping on the bare
ground and mortifying your flesh in this manner. My brothers too were unaware
of this. I was misled into believing you were well looked after and happy.
Father, you have suffered grief, for which there can be no solace. I see no
good in kingdom or pleasures. I am a sinner. Desire and ambition deceived me
into this. Let your son Yuyutsu be king, or anyone else you choose. Or if you
will do so, you yourself may take up the duties of king and look after the
people. I shall go to the forest. Let me terminate this chapter of error. I
implore you to save me from further obloquy and burning shame. I am not the
king. You are the king. You ask me for permission to go. How then can I give or
refuse permission to you? Let me assure you that my anger against Duryodhana is
a thing of the past, gone without a trace. Fate willed it and engulfed us all
in confusion of mind. And events happened which were not in our control. We are
your children, even like Duryodhana and his brothers. Gandhari and Kunti is
alike mother to me and command equal regard and filial affection from me, their
child. If you go away to the forest, I must go with you and serve you there. If
you retire to the woods and leave me here, what joy shall I have in kingship? I
prostrate myself before you and implore you to forgive the errors we have been
guilty of. Serving you will give me true joy and peace of mind. Give me that
opportunity and privilege. Do not desert me."
Dhritarashtra was
deeply moved. But he said: "Kunti's
beloved son, my mind is fixed on going to the forest and on penance. I can
find no peace otherwise now. I have lived under your roof for many years. You
and all your people have served me with unstinted devotion. You must permit me
now to fulfil my wish and let me go."
Having thus spoken to
Yudhishthira, who stood with clasped hands and trembling with agitation,
Dhritarashtra turned to Vidura and Kripacharya: "I beg of you to comfort
the king and make him grant my prayer. My mind is fixed on the forest. I am
unable to speak any more. I am feeling dry in my throat. Perhaps, it is due to
age. I have talked too much. I am tired." Saying this, he leaned helplessly
on Gandhari and swooned.
Yudhishthira was unable
to bear this distress of the grand old man, who had possessed the sinews of an
elephant and had had strength enough to crush the metal figure of Bhima into
powder.
How lean he had become
now and emaciated, with his bones showing through his skin, piteously leaning
senseless on Gandhari like one destitute.
"Have I caused all
this?" he reproached himself. "Miserable and unworthy am I, ignorant
of dharma, devoid of intelligence. A curse on my learning!"
He sprinkled water on
Dhritarashtra's face and caressingly stroked him with his soft hands.
When the old man
recovered, he tenderly clasped the Pandava to his bosom and muttered: "My
dear boy, how sweet is your touch! I am happy."
Then Vyasa entered.
When he was acquainted with what had happened, he said to Yudhishthira:
"Do what
Dhritarashtra, eldest of the Kurus, desires. Let him go to the forest. He is
old. All his sons have gone before him. It is not possible for him much longer
to bear his grief. Gandhari, whom God has blessed with enlightenment, has borne
her sorrows with courage. Do not stand in the way of their wishes. Let not
Dhritarashtra pine away and die here. Let him go and live among the honeyladen
flowers of the forest and breathe their fragrance, leaving the cares of the
world behind. The dharma of kings is to die in battle or to spend their last
days in retirement in the forest. Dhritarashtra has ruled the kingdom and
performed yajnas. When you were in the wilderness for thirteen years, he enjoyed
the wide earth through his son and gave bounteous gifts. You left him nothing
to desire. The time has come for him to do penance. Let him go with your hearty
consent, and without anger in his heart."
Dharmaraja said:
"So be it!"
Then Vyasa returned to
his hermitage.
104. The Passing Away Of The Three
WHEN Yudhishthira at
last gave his consent for Dhritarashtra's retirement to the forest,
Dhritarashtra and Gandhari went back to their residence and broke their fast.
Kunti sat with Gandhari
and they ate together. Dhritarashtra asked Yudhishthira to sit by him and gave
him his last blessings.
Then the old man
stepped out and, with his hand resting on Gandhari's shoulder, slowly walked
out of the city on his journey to the forest.
Gandhari, who, because
her lord and husband was blind, gave up the use of her eyes and wrapped her
face with a cloth all her life, placed her hand on Kunti's shoulder and slowly
walked along, thus guided.
Kunti had decided in
her mind to go with Gandhari to the forest. As she walked on, she was speaking
to Yudhishthira: "Son, do not ever let your speech be angry when you speak
to Sahadeva. Remember with love Karna who died a hero's death on the
battlefield. He was my son, but I committed the crime of not disclosing it to
you. Look after Draupadi with unfailing tenderness. Do not ever give cause for
grief to Bhima, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva. Keep this ever in mind, son. The
burden of the family is now wholly on you."
Dharmaputra had till
then believed that Kunti was accompanying Gandhari only for a distance to say
goodbye. When he heard her speak thus, he was taken aback and was speechless
for a few minutes.
When he recovered from
the shock he said: "Mother, not thus! You blessed us and sent us to
battle. It is not right you should now desert us and go to the forest."
Yudhishthira's
entreaties were however of no avail. Kunti held to her purpose.
"I must join my
lord and husband wherever he be now. I shall be with Gandhari and go through
the discipline of forest life and soon join your father. Go back unagitated.
Return to the city. May your mind ever stand steady on dharma." Thus did
Kunti bless her illustrious son and depart.
Yudhishthira stood
speechless. Kunti went on her way, looking back occasionally at him and her
other sons.
Each with hand on the
shoulder of the other, this picture of the three elders of the tribe wending
their way to the forest, leaving their sons behind, is painted by the poet so
vividly that it fills the reader with solemn grief, as if the parting happened
in his own family now.
Dhritarashtra, Gandhari
and Kunti spent three years in the forest. Sanjaya was with them. When one day,
Dhritarashtra finished his ablutions and returned to their hermitage, the
forest had caught fire.
The wind blew and the
flames spread everywhere. The deer and the wild boars ran in herds hither and
thither, and rushed madly to the pools.
Dhritarashtra told
Sanjaya: "This fire will envelop us all. You had better save
yourself."
Saying this, the blind
old king, Gandhari with her eves blindfolded and Kunti sat down on the ground,
the three of them, facing eastwards in yoga posture and calmly gave themselves
up to the flames.
Sanjaya, who had been
to the blind king, throughout all his days, his only light and was dear to him
like life itself, spent the rest of his days in the Himalayas as a sanyasin.
KRISHNA ruled at Dwaraka
for thirty-six years after the Kurukshetra battle was over. The Vrishnis, the Bhopas and other branches
of the Yadavas belonging to Krishna's tribe spent their days in unrestrained
self-indulgence and luxury. They lost all sense of discipline and humility.
Once, some rishis came
to Dwaraka. The arrogant and irreverent Yadavas mocked these rishis with a
practical joke. They dressed up one of their young men like a woman and,
presenting him to the revered guests, said: "O ye learned men, tell us
whether this lady will have a boy or a girl."
The rishis saw through
the irreverent joke and said in anger: "This person will give birth to a
mace, not a boy or a girl and that mace will prove to be Yama to your tribe and
destroy you all." The rishis departed after pronouncing this curse.
The foolish Yadavas
were rather perturbed at this unpleasant ending of what they had thought was a
good joke.
Next day, they were in
consternation to see that Samba, the man who had been dressed up in female
clothes, developed labor pains and lo and behold, gave birth to a mace! This
filled them with terror because they felt that their end was near as the rishis
had cursed.
They deliberated long
and finally ground the mace to fine powder, which they scattered in the sea,
and thought they, had thus disposed of the danger.
Nothing happened for
some time. Seasons passed. The rains came and on the beach, near where they had
strewn the fine dust of the awful club, there sprang up a dense, crop of
rushes.
When the Yadavas saw
this, they were curious and amused, for they had forgotten all about the curse
of the revered guests.
One day, long after,
the Yadavas went to the beach for a picnic and spent the whole day in dance and
drink and revelry. The liquor began to work.
At first merry, then
pugnacious, they began to talk without restrain, raking up old offences and
quarrelling, on slight cause with one another. Among the Yadavas, Kritavarma
had fought on the side of the Kauravas and Satyaki on that of the Pandavas.
"Would any Kshatriya
attack and kill sleeping soldiers, O Kritavarma? You have brought a great and
lasting disgrace on our tribe," said Satyaki, taunting Kritavarma, and a
number of drunken Yadavas applauded the attack. Kritavarma could not bear the
insult.
"Like a butcher,
you slaughtered the great Bhurisravas when seated in yoga after his right hand
was cut off and you, coward, dare to taunt me," he exclaimed and a number
of the revelers joined him and began to scoff at Satyaki for his barbarous
deed.
Soon, all the Yadavas
were in the quarrel on one side or the other and presently from words they came
to blows, which swiftly developed into a free fight.
Satyaki, with his sword
drawn, sprang upon Kritavarma and cut his head off, exclaiming: "Here is
the end of the coward who killed sleeping soldiers! "
Others immediately fell
upon Satyaki with their drinking bowls and pots and anything they could lay
hands upon.
Pradyumna, Krishna's
son, joined the fray to rescue Satyaki and there was a desperate melee in which
both Satyaki and Pradyumna were killed.
Krishna knew that the
destined hour was come, and plucking the tall rushes, which fringed the beach,
laid about him with them indiscriminately.
This led to every one
of the Yadavas doing the same and there was great indiscriminate slaughter. The
rishis' curse had begun to work.
The rushes that had
grown out of the mace became each one of them a mace as it was plucked by the
doomed men in their unreasonable fury. They used them on one another with
deadly effect and soon all of them were destroyed in this drunken brawl.
Balarama, who was
seeing all this, was overwhelmed with shame and disgust and sank to the ground.
He gave up his life as he lay in a yoga trance. Balarama passed away into the
ocean in a stream of light, which issued from his forehead like a silver
serpent. Thus ended the avatar of Narayana in Balarama.
Krishna saw all his
people thus destroy themselves as predestined. When he saw the passing of
Balarama, he roamed about in deep meditation in the wilderness, pondering on
the completion of his avatar. "The time has come for me to go," he
said to himself and, lying on the ground fell asleep.
In that wooded beach, a
hunter, prowling for game, saw Vasudeva lying on the ground among the shrubs.
From a distance, the hunter mistook Krishna for a wild animal resting on the
ground.
He bent his bow and
shot an arrow at the prostrate figure which, piercing his foot in the insteep,
went full through his body. Thus did the great Vasudeva depart from the world
of men.
106. Yudhishthira's Final Trial
To Hastinapura came the
sad tidings of the death of Vasudeva and the destruction of the Yadavas. When
the Pandavas received the news, they lost all remaining attachment to life on
earth.
They crowned Parikshit,
son ofAbhimanyu, as emperor and the five brothers left the city with Draupadi.
They went out on a pilgrimage, visiting holy places and finally reached the
Himalayas.
A dog joined them
somewhere and kept them company all along. And the seven of them climbed the
mountain on their last pilgrimage. As they toiled up the mountain path one by
one fell exhausted and died.
The youngest succumbed
first. Draupadi, Sahadeva and Nakula were released from the burden of the flesh
one after another. Then followed Arjuna and then great Bhima too.
Yudhishthira saw his
dear ones fall and die. Yet, serenely he went on not giving way to grief, for
the light of Truth burned bright before him. Yudhishthira knew what was shadow
and what was substance.
The dog still followed
Yudhishthira. The lesson enforced by the poet in this episode of the dog is
that dharma is the only constant companion in life's journey.
It was dharma who, in
the shape of the dog, followed Yudhishthira up the wearisome mountain path,
when his brothers and wife had gone leaving him alone.
Finally, when he
reached a great height, Indra appeared in his chariot.
"Your brothers and
Draupadi have arrived before you. You have lagged behind, burdened with your
body. Ascend my chariot and go with me in the flesh. I have come to take you,"
said Indra. But when Yudhishthira went up to take his seat in Indra's chariot,
the dog also climbed up.
"No, no,"
said Indra. "There is no place for dogs in swarga," and pushed the
dog away.
"Then there is no
room for me either," said Yudhishthira, and refused to enter the heavenly
chariot if he had to leave his faithful companion behind.
Dharma had come to test
Yudhishthira's loyalty and he was pleased with his son's conduct. The dog
vanished from sight. Yudhishthira reached swarga. There, he saw Duryodhana.
The Kuru prince was
seated on a beautiful throne and he shone with the splendor of the sun and
around him stood in attendance the goddess of heroism and other angels. He did
not see his brothers or anyone else. Yudhishthira was astonished.
"Where are my
brothers, ye denizens of swarga?" asked Yudhishthira. "This man of
greed, of limited vision, is here. I do not care to spend my time in his
company. We were driven by this man's envy and spite to kill friends and
relatives. We stood tied by dharma to inaction when, before our eyes, innocent
Panchali, united to us in sacred wedlock, was dragged to the Hall of the
Assembly and insulted under the orders of this wicked man. I cannot bear the
sight of this man. Tell me, where are my brothers? I wish to go where they
are." Saying this Yudhishthira averted his eyes from where Duryodhana was
seated in glory.
Then Narada, the
heavenly rishi of encyclopedic knowledge, smiled disapprovingly at Yudhishthira
and said: "Renowned prince, this is not right. In swarga, we harbor no ill
will. Do not speak in this manner about Duryodhana. The brave Duryodhana has attained
his present state by force of kshatriya dharma. It is not right to let the
things of the flesh stay in the mind and breed ill will. Do follow the law and
stay here with king Duryodhana. There is no place in swarga for hatred. You
have arrived here with your human body; so it is that you have these
inappropriate feelings. Discard them, son!"
Yudhishthira replied:
"O sage,
Duryodhana, who did not know right from wrong, who was a sinner, who caused
suffering to good men, who fed enmity and anger and who brought death to
countless men, has attained this swarga of warriors. Where is that region of
greater glory, which must be the abode of my brave and good brothers and
Draupadi? I am eager to see them and Karna, and also all the friends and
princes who gave up their lives in battle for me. I do not see them here. I
desire to meet again Virata, Drupada, Dhrishtaketu and Sikhandin, the Panchala
prince. I long to see the dear sons of Draupadi and Abhimanyu. I do not see
them here. Where are they, who threw their bodies into the blazing fire of
battle for my sake, like ghee in the sacrifice? I do not see any of them here.
Where are they all? My place must be among them. At the close of the battle, my
mother Kunti wanted me to offer libations for Karna also. When I think of it,
even now, grief overwhelms me. In ignorance of his being my own blood brother,
I caused Karna to be slain. I am eager to see him. Bhima, dearer to me than
life, Arjuna, who was like Indra him self, the twins Nakula and Sahadeva and
our dear Panchali, steadfast in dharma, I long to see and be with them all. I
do not wish to be in heaven, for what good is it for me to be here, away from
my brothers? Wherever they may be, that me is swarga; not this place!"
The angels, who heard
this, replied:
"O Yudhishthira,
if you indeed desire to be with them, by all means, you may go at once. There
is no need to delay," and they ordered an attendant to take Yudhishthira.
So, the messenger
proceeded in front and Yudhishthira followed him. As they went along, it soon
became dark and in the gathering gloom could be dimly seen things weird and
revolting.
He waded through
slippery slime of blood and offal. The path was strewn with carrion and bones
and dead men's hair. Worms were wriggling everywhere and there was an
insufferable stench in the air. He saw mutilated human bodies everywhere.
Yudhishthira was
horrified and confused. A thousand thoughts tortured his mind as he proceeded.
"How far have we
to go yet on this road? Where indeed are my brothers? Tell me, my friend,"
he enquired of the messenger in deep anguish.
The messenger quietly
replied: "If you so desire, we may turn back." The foul odors of the
place were so sickening that for a moment Yudhishthira was minded to go back.
But just then, as if
divining his intention, vaguely familiar voices rose all around in loud
lamentation. "O Dharmaputra, do not go back! Stay here for a few minutes
at least. Your presence has given us momentary relief from torture. As you
came, you have brought with you a whiff of air so sweet and pure that we have
found a little relief in our agony. Son of Kunti, the very sight of you gives
us comfort and mitigates our suffering. O stay, be it for ever so short a time. Do not go back. While you are here, we
enjoy a respite in our torture." Thus the voices pleaded.
Hearing the loud
lamentations that thus came from all around him, Yudhishthira stood in painful
bewilderment. Overwhelmed with pity at the poignant anguish in faintly
remembered voices, he exclaimed:
"Alas wretched
souls! Who are ye that lament like this? Why are you here?"
"Lord, I am
Karna," said a voice.
"I am Bhima,"
said another.
"I am
Arjuna," cried a third voice.
"Draupadi,"
cried another voice in piteous tone.
"I am
Nakula," "I am Sahadeva," "We are Draupadi's sons,"
and so on, came mournful voices from all around, till the accumulated pain was
more that Yudhishthira could bear.
"What sin indeed
have these been guilty of?" cried he. "Dhritarashtra's son
Duryodhana, what good deeds did he do to sit like Mahendra in heaven, while
these are in hell? Am I dreaming or am I awake? Is my mind deranged? Have I
gone crazy?"
Overwhelmed by anger,
Yudhishthira cursed the gods and denounced dharma. He turned to the angel
attendant and said sharply: "Go back to your masters. I shall stay here
where my dear brothers, for no other sin than devotion to me, are consigned to
the tortures of hell. Let me be with them."
The messenger went back
and conveyed to Indra what Yudhishthira had said.
Thus passed the
thirteenth part of a day. Then Indra and Yama appeared before Yudhishthira
where he stood in anguish. When they came, the darkness rolled away and the
horrid sights disappeared. The sinners and their suffering were no more to be
seen. A fragrant breeze blew as Yama, the god of dharma, smiled on his son
Yudhishthira.
"Wisest of men,
this is the third time I have tested you. You chose to remain in hell for the
sake of your brothers. It is inevitable that kings and rulers must go through
hell if only for a while. So it was that for the thirtieth part of a day you
too were doomed to suffer the pangs of hell. Neither the illustrious Savyasachi
(Arjuna) nor your beloved brother Bhima is really in hell. Nor Karna the just,
nor anyone else who you thought had been consigned to suffering. It was an
illusion designed to test you. This is not hell, but swarga. Do you not see
there Narada whose travels cover the three worlds? Cease grieving."
Thus said Yama to
Dharmaputra, who, thereupon, was transfigured. The mortal frame was gone and he
was a god. With the disappearance of the human body, also disappeared all trace
of anger and hatred.
Then Yudhishthira saw
their Karna and all his brothers and the sons of Dhritarashtra also, serene and
free from anger, all having attained the state of the gods. In this reunion,
Yudhishthira at last found peace and real happiness.
Abhimanyu
: Son of Arjuna and Subhadra who was married to Uttara, daughter of King
Virata.
Acharya
: Teacher or Guru.
Achuta
: A synonym of Sri Krishna.
Adhiratha : Karna's foster-father.
Agastya : A great sage whose life-story the Pandavas
learnt while on pilgrimage to holy places is wife Lopamudra was equally a great
sage in her own right.
Agnihotra
: A sacrifice to God Agni.
Airavata : Indra's elephant.
Ajatasatru : Having no enemy, friend of all born things,
an epithet of Yudhishthira.
Akshayapatra
: A wonderful vessel given to
Yudhishthira by the Sun god which held a never-failing supply of food.
Alambasa : A Rakshasa friend of Duryodhana who had
joined his forces but Satyaki compelled him to flee from the battlefield.
Amrit
: Ambrosia, the food of the gods, which
makes the partaker immortal.
Anga : Mlechchha kings, a Kaurava supporter.
Arani
: An upper and a lower piece of wood
used for producing fire by attrition.
Artha
(Wealth) : one of the objects of human life, the others being Dharma,
(righteous- ness), Kama (satisfaction of desires), Moksha (spiritual
salvation).
Arundhati
: Wife of sage Vasishtha.
Ashtavakra
: A towering scholar while still in his teens.
Asita
: A sage who held that gambling was
ruinous and should be avoided by all wise people.
Asmaka : A Kaurava warrior who attacked Abhimanyu.
Astra
: A missile charged with power by a holy
incantation.
Aswamedha
Yajna : A horse sacrifice.
Aswathama
: Son of Dronacharya and last supreme
commander of the Kaurava force.
Bahlika,
Dasharna, : States the kings of which were Kalinga, Magadha, friendly to the
Pandavas, Matsya, Panchala, Salva
Baladev : Balarama, elder brother of Sri Krishna.
Balarama : Elder brother of Sri Krishna.
Balarama : An avatar or incarnation of Adisesha the
thousand-hooded serpent on which Lord Mahavishnu reclines in Vaikuntha.
Bakasura : A voracious, cruel and terribly strong
Rakshasa or demon who lived in a cave near the city of Ekachakrapura whom Bhima killed to the
great relief of the citizens.
Bhagadatta : King of Pragjyotisha, a Kaurava ally.
Bhagawan
: Form of address to Gods and great
rishis, example- Bhagawan Sri Krishna, Narada,
Vyasa.
Bharata
: Son of Kaikeyi and King Dashratha, stepbrother of Rama, who was exceptionally
devoted to and loved Rama.
Bharadwaja
: A rishi, father of Yavakrida.
Brahma
: Creator of the universe.
Brahmastra
: A divine weapon, irresistible, one
given by Lord Brahma himself.
Brahmacharin : A religious student, unmarried, who lives
with his spiritual guide, devoted to study and service.
Brahmacharya
: Celibacy, chastity; the stage of life of Vedic study in which chastity and
service are essential.
Brihadaswa : A great sage who visited the Pandavas in
their forest hermitage and reminded them of King Nala of Nishadha who also lost
his kingdom in the game of dice and who deserted his wife Damayanti because of
a curse but ultimately regained both,
Brihadratha
: Commander of three regiments reigned over Magadha and attained celebrity as a
great hero, married the twin daughters of the Raja of Kasi. His two wives ate
each half of a mango given by sage Kausika and begot half a child each. A
Rakshasi recovered the two portions from a dustbin wherein they were thrown and
when they accidentally came together, they became a chubby baby, which she
presented to the king, saying it was his child, which later became known as
Jarasandha.
Brihadyumna
: A King, a disciple of sage Raibhya.
Brihannola
: Name assumed by Arjuna while living at
Virata's court in incognito.
Brihatbala : A daring warrior who charged at Abhimanyu
caught in the Kaurava army's net.
Bhima
: The second Pandava brother who excelled in physical prowess as he was born of
the wind-god.
Bhishmaka
: King of Vidarbha, father of Rukmini and Rukma.
Bhishma : The old grandsire to whose care were
committed the five Pandavas by the rishis when the eldest Yudhishthira attained
the age of sixteen for their proper upbringing including mastery of the Vedas,
Vedanta and various arts especially those pertaining to the Kshatriyas. Later
he intervened but without success to
bring about peace and understanding between the Kauravas and the Pandavas who
ruled separately from Hastinapura and Indraprastha respectively. He was the
eighth child of King Santanu and Ganga. Appointed supreme commander of the
Kaurava armies.
Bhojas
: A branch of the Yadava clan belonging to Krishna's tribe.
Bhuminjaya
: Another name of prince Uttara son of
Virata who had proceeded to fight the Kaurava armies, with Brihannala as his
charioteer.
Burisrwas
: One of the powerful kings on the side
of the Kauravas.
Bibhatsu : One of Arjuna's name meaning a hater of
unworthy acts.
Chala
: A Kaurava warrior.
Chandala
: A person of a degraded caste, whose
conduct was much below standard and whose cause pollution.
Charachitra
: A son of King Dhritarashtra who
perished in the war
Chavadi : Place of public assembly of the village. It
is the property of the entire community. In it all public business is transacted, and it serves
also as the village club the headquarters of the village police and guest house
for travellers.
Chekitana : Head of one division of the Pandava army.
Chitra
: A son of Dhritarashtra killed in the war.
Chitraksha : One of the many sons of King Dhritarashtra
who fell in the war
Chitrasena
: King of the Gandharvas who prevented
the Kauravas from putting up their camp near
the pond where he himself had encamped.
Chitrayudha : A Kaurava prince who laid down his life in
the war.
Chitravarma : A brother of Duryodhana who was killed in
the war
Chitrangada : Elder son of Santanu born of Matsyagandhi
(Satyavati) who succeeded his father on the throne of Hastinapura.
Chitrasena
: A Kaurava warrior.
Daruka : Sri Krishna's charioteer.
Dasaratha : King of Ayodhya and Rama's father.
Darshana : A country whose king attacked Bhagadatta's
elephant in an effort to save Bhima.
Devadatta
: Name of Arjuna's conch.
Devaki
: Mother of Sri Krishna.
Devata : A sage who condemned the game of dice as an
evil form of gambling and declared it unfit as entertainment for good people,
as it usually offered scope for deceit and dishonesty.
Devavrata
: The eighth child of Santanu and Ganga
who in time mastered the art yielding arms and learned the Vedas and Vedanta as
also the sciences known to Sukra was crowned Yuvaraja (heir apparent), but later vowed to celibacy
and was known as Bhishma.
Devayani
: The beautiful daughter of
Sukracharaya, preceptor of the demons, who fell in love with Kacha, son of Brihaspati, preceptor of the
Devas.
Devendra : King of the Gods.
Dharma
: Righteous course of conduct.
Dharmagranthi
: Assumed named of Nakula at Virata's court.
Dharmananda
:The delighted of Dharma, a name of Yudhishthira, the son of Dharma or Yama.
Dharmavyadha
: He possessed the secret of good life
and lived in the city of Mithila. He was a meat-seller.
Dhananjaya : One of the names of Arjuna.
Dhanusaksha : A great sage whom Medhavi, son of sage
Baladhi, once insulted. He took the form of a bull and butted at that mountain
and broke it to pieces. Then Medhavi fell down dead.
Dhaumya
: Preceptor of the Pandavas, who
accompanied them during their exile to the Kurijangala forest, singing Sama
hymns addressed to Yama, Lord of Death.
Dhrishtadyumna
: Supreme commander of the Pandava forces eldest brother of Draupadi.
Dhrishtaketu : A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Dhritarashtra : Elder son of Vichitravirya and Ambika, born
blind, father of Duryodhana.
Dharmaputra : The son of Yama, epithet of Yudhishthira.
Dhartarashtras
: Sons of Dhritarashtra
Draupadi
: Daughter of King Drupada, King of Panchala, who married all the five Pandavas
though Arjuna had won her in the
Swayamvara, because of the vow that they would share everything in common.
Drona
: Son of a Brahmana named Bharadwaja; married a sister of Kripa and a son
Aswathama was born to them; learnt military art from Parasurama, the maser.
Later he became the instructor to of the Kaurava and Pandava princes in the use
of arms.
Drupada
: King of Panchala, father of Draupadi who became the wife of the Pandavas
Duhsasana : Duryodhana's brother who dragged Draupadi
to the hall of assembly pulling her by her hair.
Durdhara
: A son of Dhritarashtra killed by Bhima
in the war.
Durjaya : A brother of Duryodhana who was sent to
attack Bhima, to save Karna's life but lost his
own.
Durmarsha
: A son of Dhritarashtra killed by
Bhima.
Durmata : A son of Dhritarashtra who got killed by
Bhima.
Durmukha : A chariot-borne warrior on the Kaurava
side.
Durvasa : A sage known for his anger who visited the
Kauravas.
Durvishaha
: A warrior fighting on the Kaurava
side.
Dushkarma : A warrior belonging to the Kaurava side.
Dussaha
: A son of Dhritarashtra killed by
Bhima.
Dwaitayana : A forest where the Kaurava, cows were being
bred and housed.
Ganapati : Amanuensis of Vvasa who agreed to write
down without pause or hesitation the story of
the Mahabharata dictated by Vyasa.
Gandhari
: Dhritarashtra's wife and queen mother
of the Kauravas.
Gandharvas
: A class of celestial beings regarded
as specialists in music.
Gandiva
: Arjuna's most potent bow.
Gangadwara
: A place where sage Agastya and his wife performed penance.
Ghalotkacha : Son of Bhima from demoness Hidimba.
Govinda
: One of the epithets of Sri Krishna and Vishnu; it means a cow-keeper and
refers to Krishna's occupation in Gokula, the colony of cowherds.
Guru
: Revered preceptor, teacher.
Hamsa,
Hidimbaka, Kamsa. : Allies of King Jarasandha; the last married the two
daughters of Jarasandha. Also Krishna's step-uncle whom Krishna killed.
Halayudha
: Plough-weaponed, an epithet of Balarama who wielded a plough as his weapon.
Hanuman
: Wise and learned monkey devotee of Sri
Rama, who possessed extraordinary powers of discrimination and wisdom and who
searched and found Sita in her confinement in Lanka.
Hastinapura
: Capital city of the Kauravas.
Hrishikesha
: Krishna.
Ilvala
: This demon and his brother Vatapi hated brahmanas implacably. Ilvala would
invite a brahman to a feast at which he would serve the meat of the goat into
which his brother had turned he. After the brahmin had partaken of the feast he
would call his brother out who would rend his way back to life, tearing the
belly of the guest.
Indra
: King of the Gods.
Indrajit
: Son of Ravana, King of Lanka, who conquered Indra, the Lord of Gods and who
was killed by Rama's brother Lakshmana.
Indrasena : A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Indrakila
: A mountain Arjuna passed on his way to
the Himalayas to practise austerities to acquire powerful new weapons from Lord
Mahadeva.
Iravan
: Arjuna's son by a Naga wife who fell
in the battle on the eighth day.
Janaka
: King of Mithila, a great Rajarishi; father of Sita, wife of Sri Rama.
Janamejaya
: A king who conducted a great sacrifice for the well being of the human race.
Janardana
: A name of Krishna
Jarasandha : Mighty king of Magadha of whose prowess all
Kshatriyas were afraid. Killed by Bhima
in a thirteen-day non-stop physical combat: with Sri Krishna and Arjuna
as witnesses.
Jarita, Laputa : Female companions of a saranga bird,
who was a rishi named Mandapala in his
previous birth when he was refused admission to heaven be cause he was
childless.
Jalasura
: A demon killed by Bhima.
Jaya : A son of King Dhritarashtra who was killed
by Bhima in the war
Jayadratha
: A warrior on the side of Kauravas who
closed the breach effected by Abhimanyu in the Chakravyuha military formation
by Dronacharya and trapped him inside.
Jayatsena : A kinsman of the Pandavas.
Jayatsena
: A warrior fighting on the side of
Kauravas.
Jnana
: Knowledge of the eternal and real
Kacha
: Grandson of sage Angiras and son of
Brihaspati, who went to seek knowledge under Sukracharya as a brahmacharin.
Devayani, the preceptor's lovely daughter, fell in love with him. The Asuras
(demons) suspecting him of wanting to steal the secret of reviving the dead,
killed him a number of times. But due to Devayani's love for him, her father
brought him back to life every time he was killed. Ultimately the secret was
learnt by the devas who then succeeded in defeating the asuras.
Kagola
: A disciple of the great sage and teacher of Vedanta, Uddalaka.
Kambojas
: Enemies of the Kauravas whom Karna had defeated
Kamsa
: Maternal Uncle of Sri Krishna and son of Ugrasena, also son-in-law of
Jarasandha, whom Sri Krishna killed.
Kanika
: Minister of Sakuni.
Kanka
: Assumed name of Yudhishthira at Virata's court.
Kausikam
: A sage who learnt from Dharmavyadha the secret of Dharma, of performing one's
duty.
Karna
: A matchless warrior, son of the Sun god and Kunti. Disciple of Parasurama.
Also son of Radha, his foster-mother,
and was known as Radheya.
Kartavirya
: A great warrior who defeated Ravana, King of Lanka.
Kartikeya
: Commander of the armies of the devas.
Kekaya
: A brave warrior on the Pandava side into whose chariot Bhima got during the
fighting on the sixth day.
Kesava
: One of the names of Sri Krishna.
Ketama
: Another chief whose head was cut off by Drona.
Khandavaprastha
: The ancient capital from where the ancestors of Pandavas, Nahusha and
Yayati ruled. The Pandavas rebuilt the
ruined city and erected palaces and forts and renamed it Indraprastha.
Kichaka
: Sudeshna's brother, commander-in-chief of Virata's army, who made advances to
Sairandhri (Draupadi). He was invited to meet her at night at the ladies
dancing hall and was met instead by Valala (Bhima) dressed up as a female who
killed him (Kichaka).
Kripacharya
: Aswathama's uncle who advocated a combined assault on Arjuna in battle as
against Karna's boast that he could take him on single-handed.
Krishna-Dwaipayana
: Sage Vyasa.
Krauncha
: Curlew-heron.
Krauncha-Vyuha
: military formation on a pattern supposed to resemble a heron with
outstretched beak and spreading wings. In ancient Indian practice, armies were
arrayed for battle in formations of definite patterns, each of which had a name
such as Chakra, or Kurma or Krauncha, or Makara according to a real or fancied
resemblance.
Kritavarma
: A notable Yadava warrior fighting on the side of Kaurava forces.
Kshatradharma
: A great warrior on the side of Pandavas.
Kuchasthala
: A city where Krishna stayed the night on his way to the court of Dhritarashtra.
Kumbhakarna
: Brother of Ravana, King of Lanka, who was asleep most of the time because of
the curse of Brahma.
Kundinapura
: Capital of Vidarbha.
Kunti
: She was the daughter of Sura and was known as Pritha. She was given in
adoption to the king's childless cousin Kuntibhoja and was named Kunti after
her adoptive father. Sage Durvasa, whom she had served while he was a guest at
her father's house, gave her a divine mantra which when repeated would give her
a son from any god whom she would call upon. Out of childish curiosity, she
invoked the Sun god by repeating the Mantra and then she gave birth to a son
born with divine armor and earrings. Ashamed, she placed the child in a sealed
box and set it afloat on a river. The box was picked up by a childless
charioteer and brought up as his own and became known as Karna. Later, Kunti
chose Pandu as her husband at a Swayamvara.
Kunti-Madri
: Queens of King Pandu who gave birth to
three and two sons known as the Pandavas in the forest where he spent many
years for having committed some sin. The sons were known as Yudhishthira,
Bhima. Arjuna, Nakula, and Sahadeva.
Kurma
: Tortoise.
Lakshmana
: Younger step-brother of Rama and son of Sumitra and King Dasaratha.
Duryodhana's gallant young son also bore this name.
Lomasa
: A brahmana sage who advised the Pandavas to reduce their retinue while
repairing to the forest. Those unable to bear the hardships of exile were free
to go to the court of Dhritarashtra or Drupada, king of Panchala. He
accompanied Yudhishthira on his wanderings.
Lopamudra
: Daughter of the king of Vidarbha who married the sage Agastya.
Lord
Narayana : Refuge of men; Mahavishnu.
Madhava
: One of the names of Krishna. It means the Lord of Lakshmi.
Madhusudana : Another name of Krishna, the slayer of the
asura Madhu.
Mahavishnu
: Lord of the Universe who took human birth in order to wrest his kingdom from
Emperor Bali for the salvation of the world. Lord Vishnu also took birth as
Rama, son of Dasaratha, to kill Ravana, King of Lanka.
Mahendra
: A King who had attained heaven.
Maitreya
: A sage who visited the court of Dhritarashtra, expressed sorrow at the
Pandava's plight, advised Duryodhana not to injure the Pandavas for his own
good.
Mantra
: An incantation with words of power.
Manasarovar
: A sacred lake in the Himalayas
Mandavya
: A sage wrongly punished by the king by being impaled as the chief of robbers
who had clandestinely hidden their stolen goods in a corner of his hermitage
when he was in deep contemplation. Lord
Dharma gave him this punishment for having tortured birds and bees in his childhood. At this Mandavya cursed Dharma who
was born as Vidura, the wise, to the servant maid of Ambalika, wife of King
Vichitravirya, who offered her to Sage Vyasa in place of Ambalika.
Maricha
: A character in the Ramayan, uncle of
Ravana who transformed him self into a golden deer at the behest of Ravana to
entice Sita.
Markandeya
: A sage who told Yudhishthira the story of a brahmana, Kausika.
Marutta
: A king of the Ikshwaku dynasty whose sacrifice was performed by Samvarta in
defiance of Indra and Brihaspati.
Matali
: Charioteer of Indra who took Arjuna to the kingdom of gods.
Medhavi
: Son of Sage Baladhi who desired that his son should live as long as a certain
mountain lasted.
Meru
: An ancient mountain. Becoming jealous of Meru, the Vindya began to grow very
high obstructing the sun, the moon and the planets. Agastya whom the Vindhya
mountain respected asked it to stop growing until he crossed it on his way to
the south and returned to the north again. But he did not return at all, having
settled in the south.
Nahusha
: A mighty king who was made king of the gods because Indra had disappeared due
to his killing Vritra through sin and deceit.
Nakula
: Fourth brother of the Pandavas.
Nala
: King of Nishadha who lost his kingdom in a game of dice and deserted his wife
Damayanti because of a curse.
Nandini
: Vasishtha's divinely beautiful cow.
Nara
: Arjuna or Dhananjaya.
Narada
: The sage who suddenly appeared before Dhritarashtra and Vidura as the latter
was describing the departure of the Pandavas to the forest and uttered a
prophecy that after fourteen years the Kauravas would be extinct as a result of
Duryodhana's crimes and vanished as suddenly.
Narayana : Sri Krishna or Krishna; Vishnu.
Narayanas
: Krishna's kinsmen.
Narayanasrama
: A charming forest where the Pandavas had halted during their wanderings.
Nishadha
: A country where Indra, Lord of the gods had lived once disguised as a
brahmana.
Nishada
: An aboriginal hunter orfisherman: a man of low or degraded tribe in general;
an outcaste.
Panchajanya
: Name of Krishna's conch.
Palasa
: Butea frondosa, "flame of the forest".
Panchali
: Another name of Draupadi Queen of the Pandavas and daughter of King Drupada.
Panchalya
: A son of King Drupada who died in the war.
Pandu
: Second son of Vichitravirya and Ambalika who succeeded to the throne of
Hastinapura on his father's death, as his elder brother Dhritarashtra was born
blind, father of the Pandavas.
Parasara
: A great sage, father of Veda Vvasa.
Paravasu
: Son of Raibhva and elder brother of Arvavasu whose wife was violated by
Yavakrida, who was killed with a spear by a fiend for his sin.
Parikshit
: Son of Abhimanyu and grandson of the Pandavas who was crowned king after the
holocaust claimed the Kauravas and the Pandavas.
Partha
: Arjuna.
Parvati
: Consort of Siva. Rukmini prayed to her for saving her from the cruel Sisupala
king of Chedi, as she had set her heart on marrying Krishna.
Paurava
: A Kaurava hero.
Phalguna
: Arjuna.
Prabhasa
: The Vasu who seized Vasishtha's divine cow.
Pradyumna
: Sri Krishna's son.
Pratikhami
: Duryodhana's charioteer.
Pritha
: Mother of Karna, Kunti before her marriage.
Pundarikaksha
: Krishna, the lotus-eyed one.
Purochana
: An architect who built a beautiful wax palace named "Sivam" in
Varanavata.
Purumitra
: A Kaurava warrior
Pitamaha
: Literally grandfather, which however carried no imputation of senile
infirmity but denotes the status of the pater familias.
Ptirushottama
: An epithet of Sri Krishna. It is one of the names of Vishnu and means the
Supreme Being.
Raibhya
: A sage whose hermitage was situated on the banks of the Ganga. The Pandavas
during their wanderings visited it. This ghat was very holy. Bharata, son of
Dasaratha bathed here. Indra was cleansed of his sin of killing Vritra unfairly
by bathing in this ghat. Sanatkumar became one with God. Aditi, mother of the
gods, prayed here to be blessed with a son.
Radheya
: Son of Radha, a name of Karna, who as a foundling was brought up as a son by
Radha, the wife of the Charioteer Adhiratha.
Rajasuya
: A sacrifice performed by a king to be entitled to assume the title of
"Emperor".
Ravana
: King of Lanka who abducted Sita, the beautiful wife of Ramachandra.
Rishabha
: The second note of the Indian gamut (Shadja, rishabha, gandhara, madhyama,
panchama, daivata, nishada -sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni.)
Rishyasringa
: Son of sage Vibhandaka, who had grown up seeing no mortal except his father.
The king of Anga, which was afflicted with a dire famine, to bring rain and
plenty, invited him.
Romapada
: King of Anga which was once visited by a great drought.
Rudra
: One of the names of Siva.
Rudra
dance : Siva's cosmic dance of destruction.
Rukma
: Heir apparent to the throne of Vidarbha. When defeated by Balarama and
Krishna he established a new city Bhojakata, ashamed to return to Kundinapura,
the capital of Vidarbha, and ruled over it.
Sachidevi
: Wife of Indra, king of the gods on whom Nahusha's evil eye fell. She was also
known as Indrani.
Sahadeva
: Youngest of the Pandava princes who offered the first honors to Krishna at
the Rajasuya sacrifices.
Saibya
: A ruler friendly to the Pandavas.
Sairandhri
: A maid servant or female attendant employed in royal female apartments.
Sakuni
: He played dice on behalf of the Kauravas and succeeded in defeating the
Pandavas by a stratagem. As a result the latter had to go and live in the
forest for thirteen years. According to the conditions of the game, the
thirteenth and last year of exile was to be spent incognito. If discovered by
anyone they were again to repair to the forests for a like term. He was
considered to be the evil genius, who beguiled Duryodhana to take to evil ways.
Salva
: Friend of Sisupala, who besieged Dwaraka Sri Krishna's kingdom to avenge Sisupala's
death at the latter's hand.
Salya
: Ruler of Madradesa and brother of Madri and uncle of the Pandavas who because
of having received hospitality from Duryodhana went over to his side.
Samsaptaka
: One who has taken a vow to conquer or die, and never to retreat. The
Samsaptakas were suicide-squads, vowed to some desperate deed of daring.
Samvarta
: Brihaspati's younger brother, a person of great learning.
Samba
: A Yadava youngster dressed as a woman who gave birth to a mace, as foretold
by rishis.
Sanga
: Son of Virata. When king Virata was wounded, he had to get into Sanga's
chariot, having lost his chariot, horses and charioteer
Sanjaya
: The narrator who tells blind Dhritarashtra the progress of the war from day
to day. He told the king that a victim of adverse fate would first become
perverted and loses his sense of right and wrong. Time would destroy his reason
and drive him to his own destruction.
Sankula
Yuddha : A melee, confused fight, a soldiers battle as distinguished from the
combats of heroes.
Shanta
: Wife of sage Rishyasringa.
Santanu
: King of Hastinapura, father of Bhishma.
Sanyasin:
One who has renounced the world and its concerns.
Sarasana
: One of the Kaurava brothers who died in the war.
Sarmishtha
: Princes and daughter of king Vrishaparva who got angry with Devayani and
slapped and pushed her into a dry well.
Satanika
: Virata's son whose bead was severed by Drona.
Satyajit
: A Panchala prince, a hero who stood by Yudhishthira to prevent his being
taken prisoner by Drona, while Arjuna was away answering a challenge by the
Samsaptakas (the Trigartas).
Satyaki
: A Yadava warrior, friend of Krishna and the Pandavas who advocated collecting
their forces and defeating the unrighteous Duryodhana.
Satyavati
: A fisherman's daughter who possessed
uncommon beauty and emanated a divinely sweet fragrance and king Santanu became
enamored of her, married her and made her his queen.
Satyavrata
: Warrior on the Kaurava side.
Saugandhika
: A plant that produced a very beautiful and fragrant flower that Bhima went to
get for Draupadi.
Savyasachin
: Ambidexter, one who can use both hands with equal facility and effect. A name
of Arjuna who could use his bow with the same skill with either hands.
Sikhandin
: A girl turned man, warrior on the Pandava side who restored order among
scattered, subdued soldiers, Drupada's son.
Simhanada
: A lion-note or roar; a deep roar of defiance or triumph which warriors were
wont to utter to inspire confidence in their friends, of terror in their
enemies.
Saindhava : Jayadratha.
Sini
: One of the suitors to Devaki’s hand. A kinsman of the Kauravas.
Sisupala
: King of Chedi. Died at the hands of Krishna at the time of Dharmaputra's
Rajasuya sacrifice.
Somadutta
: One of the suitors to Devaki's hand. A kinsman of the Kauravas.
Subahu
: King of Kulinda in the Himalayas, ally of the Kauravas.
Subhadra
: Wife of Arjuna, sister of Sri Krishna and mother of Abhimanyu.
Sudakshina
: A warrior on the Kaurava side.
Sudarsana
: A warrior on the Kaurava army.
Sudeshna
: Queen of King Virata whom Sairandhri (Draupadi) served.
Sugriva
: Monkey-king, friend of Sri Rama, and brother of mighty Vali whom Sri Rama
killed.
Sujata
: Daughter of Sage Uddalaka and wife of Kagola, his disciple who had virtue and
devotion but not much of erudition, mother of Ashtavakra.
Suka
: A sage, son of Vyasa, who related the Srimad Bhagavata to King Parikshit,
grandson of Arjuna.
Sumitra
: Abhimanyu's charioteer.
Supratika
: Name of King Bhagadatta's elephant.
Susarma
: King of Trigarta, a supporter of the Kauravas who backed the proposal to
invade Matsya, Virata's country.
Suvarna
: A soldier on the Kaurava side.
Sri
Rama : Also knew as Rama, Ramachandra or Sri Rama. Hanumana tells Bhima how he
was deeply thrilled when he happened to touch Rama's body. This king of Ayodhya
was banished to the forest for fourteen years, killed Ravana the king of Lanka
who abducted his wife, Sita.
Srinjayas
: Pandava supporters.
Srutayu,
Astutayu : Two brothers fighting on the Kaurava side attacked Arjuna but were
killed.
Srutayudha
: A Kaurava warrior whose mace hurled at Krishna rebounded fiercely, killing
Srutayudha himself. Her mother Parnasa had obtained that gift from Varuna who
had specified that the mace should not be used against one who does not fight,
else it would kill the person who hurls it.
Swarga
: The heaven of Indra where mortals after death enjoy the results of their good
deeds on earth.
Sveta
: A son of King Virata who fell in battle to Bhishma's arrow.
Tantripala
: Assumed name of Sahadeva at Virata's court.
Uddalaka
: A great sage and teacher of Vedanta.
Umadevi
: Wife of Siva.
Unchhavritti
: The life of a mendicant, begging his food.
Upachitra
: One of King Dhritarashtra's sons who perished in the war.
Upaplavya
: A place in Matsya Kingdom, where the Pandavas settled after their exile of
thirteen years.
Urvasi
: An apsara in Indra's court, whose amorous overtures Arjuna declined.
Vaisampayana
: Chief disciple of sage Vyasa who revealed the epic for the benefit humanity.
Vaishnava
: A sacrifice performed by Duryodhana in the forest. Yayati, Mandhata, Bharata
and others also performed it.
Vaishnava
mantra : An invocation which endows a missile with some of the irresistible
power of Vishnu.
Vajrayudha
: The weapon with which Indra killed Visvarupa on suspicion because his mother
belonged to the asura tribe of daityas.
Valala
: Assumed name of Bhima when, he worked as a cook at Virata's court.
Vali
: Monkey-king, brother of Sugriva.
Vanaprastha
: The third stage of the dvija's life, when he is required to relinquish
worldly responsibilities to his heirs and retires to the woods with his wife
for an anchorite's life.
Vandi
: Court poet of Mithila who on being defeated by Sage Ashtavakra in debate
drowned himself in the ocean and went to the abode of Varuna.
Varanavata
: A forest in which the Pandavas were asked to stay in a wax-house which was to
be set on fire at midnight in order to kill the Pandavas while they were
asleep.
Vasishtha
: A sage who had cursed the eight Vasus to be born in the world of men as sons
of Ganga and Santanu. Ganga threw her seven children in to the river with a
smiling face.
Vasudhana
: Another warrior who perished in the battle on the Twelfth Day.
Vasudeva
: An epithet of Krishna. It means both son of Vasudeva and the supreme spirit
that pervades the universe.
Vedavyasa
: Vyasa, author of the Mahabharata.
Vichitravirya:
Younger son of Santanu who succeeded King Chitrangada on the throne of
Hastinapura. He had two sons, Dhritarashtra and Pandu.
Vikarna
: A son of Dhritarashtra who declared the staking of Draupadi illegal, as
Yudhishthira himself was a slave and had lost all his rights. Therefore the
Kauravas had not won Draupadi legally, he held
Vinda,
Anuvinda : Two brothers kings of Avanti, great soldiers whom were on the
Kaurava side, they suffered defeat at the hands of Yudhamanyu
Virata
: King of Matsya, the country which was suggested by Bhima to live in incognito
during the thirteenth year of their exile.
Visoka
: Bhima's charioteer.
Visvarupa
: Name of Twashta's son who became the preceptor of the gods, Brihaspati having
left when insulted by Indra.
Vivimsati
: A Kaurava hero.
Viswarupa
: All-pervading, all-including form. See the description in the Bhagavad Gita
chapter eleven.
Vriddhakshatra
: King of the Sindhus, father of Jayadratha into whose lap his son Jayadratha's
head was caused to fall by Arjuna after cutting off Jayadratha's head.
Vrika
: A Panchala prince who fell in battle.
Vrisha,
Achala : Sakuni's brothers.
Vrishnis,
Kekayas : Tribals who were devoted to the Pandavas, who with Sri Krishna
visited the Pandavas in their exile.
Vrishasena
: A warrior on the Kaurava side.
Vritra
: Son of Twashta who was defeated by Indra's weapons Vajrayudha. He was born
out of his father's sacrificial flames and became Indra's mortal enemy.
Vrikodara
: Wolf-bellied, an epithet of Bhima, denoting his slimness of waist and
insatiable hunger.
Vyasa
: Compiler of the Vedas, son of sage Parasara.
Vyuha
: Battle arrays.
Yama
: God of death. God of dharma, whose son was Yudhishthira. It is he whose
questions Yudhishthira answered correctly whereupon his dead brothers were
brought back to life on the banks of the enchanted pool.
Yajna
: A sacrifice.
Yaksha
: A class of demi-gods, subjects of Kubera, the god of wealth.
Yavakrida
: Son of Sage Bharadwaja who was bent upon mastering the Vedas.
Yayati
: Emperor of the Bharata race who rescued Devayani from the well into which she
had been thrown by Sarmishtha. He later married both Devayani and Sarmishtha.
One of the ancestors of the Pandavas who became prematurely old due to
Sukracharya's curse.
Yudhamanyu
: A prince supporting the Pandavas.
Yuyudhana
: Another name of Satyaki.
Yuyutsu
: A noble son of Dhritarashtra who bent his head in shame and sorrow when
Yudhishthira lost Draupadi. He also disapproved of the unfair way in which
Abhimanyu was killed.