The Mahabharata
dharme cārthe ca kāme ca mokṣe ca bharatarṣabha
yad ihāsti tad anyatra yan nehāsti na tat kva cit
yad ihāsti tad anyatra yan nehāsti na tat kva cit
"In the realm of dharma, artha, kama, and moksha, (ethics, economic development, pleasure, and liberation), whatever is found in this epic may be found elsewhere, but what is not found here will be impossible to find anywhere else."
Mahābhārata, Adi Parva 56.33)
1.41: The Kings Choose Sides
While both the Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas were preparing for war, Kṛṣṇa and the Yādavas returned to Dwārakā. Duryodhana heard of Kṛṣṇa’s arrival and decided to go personally to ask His assistance. Having learned from his spies of the Pāṇḍavas’ preparations, the Kuru monarch had already sent messengers to every part of the globe to seek other kings’ assistance, but Kṛṣṇa was so powerful that He warranted a personal request. Kṛṣṇa and the Yādavas were the greatest warriors on earth. If Duryodhana could secure their assistance, then the Pāṇḍavas would stand no chance. Kṛṣṇa was their main support. Accompanied only by a few bodyguards, Duryodhana mounted the best of his horses and set out for Dwārakā at a gallop.
In Virata, Arjuna also thought of Kṛṣṇa. After consulting Yudhiṣṭhira, he too decided to go personally to seek his friend’s help. Leaving in a swift chariot he soon arrived in Dwārakā. As he reached Kṛṣṇa’s palace, he saw the palace guards receiving Duryodhana. The two princes, after greeting each other in a friendly way, went together to Kṛṣṇa’s chamber. They found Him asleep on a large bed. One of His wives was fanning Him gently. Duryodhana went straight to the head of the bed and sat down, but Arjuna remained at Kṛṣṇa’s feet, standing with palms folded and gazing at His face with tears of affection in his eyes.
After a while Kṛṣṇa awoke. As He opened His eyes He saw Arjuna, who bowed to Him in love. Then Kṛṣṇa sat up and saw Duryodhana by His head. He immediately welcomed both visitors. After honoring them, He inquired why they had each come.
Duryodhana replied, “It is well known that You are equally disposed toward both myself and Arjuna. I have come here to seek Your assistance in the war which will soon be fought among us. Indeed, O killer of Madhu, I arrived before Arjuna and thus it is only right that You assist me rather than him. This is the practice of good men, and You, Kṛṣṇa, are the best of men.” Kṛṣṇa looked smilingly at Duryodhana. “I accept that you arrived first, O King, but I saw first Arjuna. Therefore, I think I will help both of you. Scripture ordains that one should help the youngest first, so I will first offer My assistance to Arjuna. I have an army of one million soldiers known as the Nārāyaṇas, all equal to Me in battle. Let one of you take them and let the other take Me alone. But I will not fight. Indeed, I plan to leave My weapons aside during the entire battle. O son of Kuntī, what do you choose?”
Without hesitating Arjuna chose Kṛṣṇa. Duryodhana could hardly conceal his joy. Arjuna’s sentimentality had overpowered his reason. He had forsaken Kṛṣṇa’s invincible army in favor of Kṛṣṇa Himself, who would not even fight. What a mistake!
Smiling slightly, Duryodhana said, “It seems then that I am left with the army. With Your permission, O Keśava, I shall now depart.”
Having received Kṛṣṇa’s army, Duryodhana thanked him and left. He made his way to Balarāma’s palace. He knew that Balarāma was always favorable toward him. Surely He would take his side in the war. Duryodhana found Balarāma seated in His palace. After greeting Him with words of affection and praise, Duryodhana submitted his plea.
Balarāma, His hand resting on His plow weapon, looked grave. “O son of Kuru, for your sake I spoke out in Virata’s assembly at the time of Abhimanyu’s marriage. I pointed out to Kṛṣṇa that our relations with you and the Pāṇḍavas are equal, and that your cause is as just as that of the Pāṇḍavas. O hero, Keśava did not accept My words. I cannot for a moment exist apart from Kṛṣṇa. Therefore, I have decided to help neither side. I will take no part whatsoever in the upcoming war. Fight according to kṣatriya principles, O best of men. May good fortune be yours.”
Balarāma stood up and embraced Duryodhana. Knowing that Kṛṣṇa had sided with the Pāṇḍavas, He considered the Kauravas already defeated. Duryodhana left Balarāma’s palace and went to see Kṛtavarmā, the Yādava commander-in-chief. He asked for his help and Kṛtavarmā, in accordance with kṣatriya custom, could not refuse. He agreed to fight on the Kaurava side along with the million warriors already given by Kṛṣṇa. He thus gathered the army and prepared to leave with Duryodhana. Surrounded by the terrible-looking forces, and with Kṛtavarmā by his side, Duryodhana headed back toward Hastināpura with a light heart.
In Kṛṣṇa’s chamber, Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa were alone. Kṛṣṇa asked, “Why did you choose Me knowing I will not fight over My army?”
“There is no doubt that wherever You are there will be victory. If You desired it, You could slay all the Kurus. In Your presence, O foremost among men, I too will be able to kill them all. You are the most famous and illustrious person in the world and I will attain a similar fame by gaining victory in this war. O Kṛṣṇa, it has long been my desire that You act as my charioteer. Please fulfill my desire, if You find it acceptable.”
“It is fitting, O son of Kuntī, that you measure yourself against Me,” Kṛṣṇa replied softly. He placed a bejeweled hand on Arjuna’s shoulder. “I shall gladly act as your charioteer. Let your desire be fulfilled.”
The two friends spent some time together in Dwārakā and then prepared to leave. Surrounded by many Yadu chiefs and warriors, they set off for Virata.
* * *
King Śalya of Madras received news about the impending war. As the brother of Pāṇḍu’s second wife, Mādrī, he wanted to assist his nephews, the Pāṇḍavas. He had already formed a strong friendship with Yudhiṣṭhira, and he longed to see him again. Taking his army he left his city to go to Virata. While traveling, Śalya’s army occupied an area of four square miles. With their flashing armor and bright pennants, they appeared like a moving sea covered with gems. They traveled in slow marches toward Virata, shaking the earth and sending up massive clouds of dust.
Hearing that the Madras army was on the move, Duryodhana arranged a regal reception for them along the way. He had palaces erected in charming spots, well-decorated with gems. The Kaurava sent artistes for their entertainment and had the best of food and drink laid out for the entire army. Artificial lakes adorned with lotuses and fountains were constructed, with fine seats arranged around them. As Śalya approached each place he was greeted by thousands of Brahmins, who received him with worship and adoration. He was shown to a palace that would have been suitable for the gods.
Greeted with honors befitting Indra, Śalya was pleased, thinking too highly of himself and too little of the king of the gods. Assuming that Yudhiṣṭhira had made all the arrangements, he asked his servants, “Where are Yudhiṣṭhira’s men? Fetch them, for I would like to reward them.”
The servants looked surprised. They went to Duryodhana, who had remained concealed from Śalya, and informed him of everything. When Śalya had become so pleased that he was ready to give away even his life, Duryodhana revealed himself. Bowing before his maternal uncle, the Kaurava prince said, “You are welcome. Please instruct me what else I can do for you.”
It was Śalya’s turn to be surprised. He embraced Duryodhana and replied, “I am satisfied by your reception. Ask from me what you may desire.”
Duryodhana folded his palms. “Grant me an auspicious boon, O illustrious man. Become a leader in my army.”
Śalya realized that he had been tricked, but out of honor he could not refuse Duryodhana’s request. He replied, “It is done. What else do you desire?”
Duryodhana said that he had no other desire. With joy he continued to repeat Śalya’s words: “It is done.”
Disappointed that he would now be opposing the Pāṇḍavas in battle, Śalya said, “O King, O best among men, go back to your capital. You shall soon see me there, but first I want to see Yudhiṣṭhira. Then I will come and join your army.”
“You may go, but please return quickly. I am depending on you. Do not forget your promise.”
After embracing, the two men parted and Śalya continued on to Virata. He saw the Pāṇḍavas there and was greeted by all of them with respect. They embraced him and sat him on a beautiful seat. Śalya gazed at his nephews with tear-filled eyes. “It is good to see all you heroes hale and hearty after your exile. How have you passed these last thirteen years? Nothing but misery attends one who has lost a kingdom; but now your suffering, brought on by Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son, will end as you slay your enemies.”
Śalya looked at Yudhiṣṭhira sitting at his feet. “O great devotee of God, no one has seen even a trace of greed in your character. Like the ṛṣi kings of old you exhibit self-control, forgiveness, truth, nonviolence, and all the other qualities that are so rare in this world. You are mild, generous, religious, and attached to virtue. O chief among kings, it is fortunate that I am able to see you freed at last from your difficulties.”
Śalya then told Yudhiṣṭhira about his meeting with Duryodhana and his promise to the Kaurava prince.
Although Yudhiṣṭhira was disappointed, he agreed that it was a point of honor. He said, “O King, you have done the right thing by granting such a boon when you were pleased at heart. You had no choice and I do not criticize you for it. Still, I have a request. You can do us a great favor in the coming war with our cousins. It is well known that you are a charioteer without equal in this world. I have no doubt that when the final battle takes place between Arjuna and Karṇa, you will be asked to drive Karṇa’s chariot. At that time you should do whatever you can to discourage Karṇa and take away his energy to fight. Although it is improper to ask this of you, O hero, still I ask it out of fear of the suta’s son. We must by any and all means defeat that evil-minded one.”
Śalya felt pleased that, although he had been forced into fighting for Duryodhana, there was still something he could do for Yudhiṣṭhira. The news of the Pāṇḍavas’ exile had greatly upset him. It was outrageous that the Kurus had allowed such a thing to happen. His brother-in-law Pāṇḍu would have been mortified if he had been alive. How could the Kurus expect any good fortune when they injured men of the Pāṇḍavas’ caliber, and especially when they insulted a woman like Draupadī?
Śalya said, “I will surely do as you ask, O noble-minded one. I do not doubt that Duryodhana will have me drive Karṇa’s chariot. At that time I will say those things which are calculated to deprive him of energy. O King, all the miseries you have endured at Duryodhana and Karṇa’s hands will soon give rise to your happiness. This is the way of the world, O hero. Do not blame yourself. Everything is under the control of supreme destiny. It is the Lord’s arrangement only that great personalities like you suffer difficulties. Even the gods are sometimes obliged to suffer. I have heard that Indra has had to endure much misery, along with his queen.”
Yudhiṣṭhira asked Śalya to tell the story of Indra and how he had suffered. The Madras king recited the history in detail. Śalya was well known for his wisdom and knowledge, and even the Brahmins came forward to hear him speak.
After speaking with the Pāṇḍavas for hours, it was time for Śalya to depart. Yudhiṣṭhira again worshipped him with due honor and reminded him of his promise. Assuring Yudhiṣṭhira that he would do whatever he could to assist him, Śalya bid the Pāṇḍavas farewell and made his way to Hastināpura.
Soon after Śalya’s departure, Sātyaki returned from Dwārakā. He brought with him a huge army consisting of chariots, horsemen, elephants and infantry. Bearing battle axes, swords, spears, lances, mallets, clubs, maces and bows of all sorts, the army appeared like clouds with lightning. A full akshauhini in number, it merged with Yudhiṣṭhira’s forces like a river entering the sea.
One after another, different kings came to Yudhiṣṭhira’s side. Dhristaketu, the king of the Cediś, came with another akshauhini division, as did the king of Magadha, Jayatsena. The two kings Pandya and Virata also each supplied an akshauhini of powerful warriors. Finally, Drupada brought his army, assembled from various countries and led by his two sons, which amounted to two full akshauhinis. Within only a few months, seven akshauhinis stood ready at Virata to fight for the Pāṇḍavas.
In Hastināpura, various other kings were coming to assist Duryodhana. They amassed eleven akshauhinis. The soldiers crowded Hastināpura and its surrounding regions so that there was hardly any free space anywhere. Duryodhana had arranged for a vast army of vaiśyās and śūdras, greater in number than even the warriors themselves, to ensure that the soldiers received sufficient care while they awaited the order to march into battle. All that remained to be done was to meet with the Pāṇḍavas or their emissaries. If no agreement could be reached--and Duryodhana planned for no agreements--then the war would begin. The Kurus, informed that a messenger was on his way, waited expectantly.
* * *
Drupada’s priest arrived at Hastināpura soon after the troops had assembled. As he approached the city from a distance, he saw those soldiers camped everywhere like masses of clouds descended to earth. Entering Hastināpura, he made his way through the crowds and came to Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s palace, where he was received by the king himself, along with Bhīṣma and Vidura. They brought him straight to the royal court. After worshipping him with arghya and other offerings, they invited him to address the assembly.
Looking around at the many kings and ministers seated in Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s great hall, the priest spoke. “As you all know, Dhṛtarāṣṭra and Pāṇḍu are brothers. Therefore, their claim to their paternal kingdom is equal. No one doubts this to be true. Yet although Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons have inherited their share of the kingdom, the Pāṇḍavas have been denied theirs. Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons wrested the Pāṇḍavas’ kingdom and wealth which they fairly acquired through the practice of virtue. Even before that, the Kauravas attempted to kill their honest cousins in different ways. Because the Pāṇḍavas’ life duration has still not expired, the Kauravas were unsuccessful in their attempts. Despite all this, Yudhiṣṭhira bears no ill will toward them. He has accepted all tribulations without complaint. Now he wishes only to have his rightful property returned. Although he has suffered the severest miseries--in this court, in the forest, and at Virata--he does not long for war.”
The priest paused and looked at Dhṛtarāṣṭra. The blind king shifted uncomfortably on his throne. Shafts of sunlight entered through the latticed windows, illuminating his pained expression. By his side Bhīṣma and Vidura slowly shook their heads, remembering again the terrible day when Pāṇḍu’s sons had been sent away. They looked intently at the priest as he continued.
“The Pāṇḍavas wish for a peaceful settlement. They do not want to gain back what is theirs by ruining the world. Forgetting their troubles these last thirteen years, they are prepared to live in friendship with their cousins. But their kingdom must be returned. They have gathered seven akshauhinis and prepared them for battle. Although you have a greater force, you should not consider yourselves more powerful. The Pāṇḍavas have Kṛṣṇa on their side, who possesses inconceivable power. They are also assisted by Drupada, Pandya, Dṛṣṭadyumna, Śikhaṇḍī and other mighty monarchs. Each of the Pāṇḍava brothers is a maharatha. Arjuna alone exceeds the strength of your entire army, O descendents of Bharata. What man would dare face Dhanañjaya when he comes out to fight, his chariot guided by the immortal Keśava? Therefore act according to virtue. Give back what should be returned. Do not miss this opportunity.”
The assembly remained silent when the priest had stopped speaking. Everyone’s eyes turned toward Dhṛtarāṣṭra. It was up to him to respond. The Kuru monarch said nothing. Duryodhana smiled and glanced at Karṇa. This old priest was wasting his time. They had an army almost twice the size of the Pāṇḍavas’ forces. Where was the question of surrendering anything to Yudhiṣṭhira? The Kaurava prince looked around the assembly at the silent kings and ministers.
Bhīṣma broke the silence. He thanked and praised the priest with gentle words. Then he said, “O learned one, it is fortunate that the Pāṇḍavas are doing well and that they have secured the assistance of many kings. It is especially fortunate that Damodara, Kṛṣṇa, has taken their part. It is fortunate indeed that they desire to act virtuously and that they wish for peace. You have spoken the truth. Your words are sharp, in keeping with your status as a Brahmin. All the Pāṇḍavas have borne many troubles and are certainly entitled to their father’s wealth. Not even the holder of the thunderbolt could keep that from them, what to speak of those bearing the bow. There is little doubt, as you say, that Arjuna alone can defeat our army. He could stand against the three worlds.”
Karṇa sprung to his feet. Catching Duryodhana’s eye he barked at the priest, insolently interrupting Bhīṣma. “O Brahmin, you are wasting your time. Yudhiṣṭhira was fairly defeated and went to the forest in accordance with his vow. I do not believe that the prescribed term has even ended. Why then are the Pāṇḍavas demanding their kingdom? Duryodhana will not yield even an inch of land out of fear, but out of virtue he could give the entire earth. Let the Pāṇḍavas first keep their vow and then come humbly before Duryodhana, who will doubtlessly afford them refuge. If they desire to abandon righteousness and seek battle, however, they will meet only grief.”
Karṇa glared. Both he and Duryodhana refused to accept that the Pāṇḍavas had fulfilled their vow. They did not believe that Bhīṣma’s astronomical calculations were correct. According to their own estimations, there were a few months left. Duryodhana would not even consider negotiating with the Pāṇḍavas. The prince nodded in agreement as his friend spoke.
Bhīṣma turned toward Karṇa. “O son of Radha, why do you talk so much? Do you not recall how during the fight in the Matsya kingdom Arjuna single-handedly defeated all of our principal warriors, including you? You have seen his prowess often enough. If we do not do what this Brahmin says, we will all be killed.”
Some of the kings present agreed with Bhīṣma while others praised Karṇa. The hall buzzed with voices and Dhṛtarāṣṭra raised his hand for silence. He rebuked Karṇa, then solaced Bhīṣma. Then he addressed the assembly: “In my opinion, Bhīṣma has spoken well. He speaks for our interests and for the interests of the entire world. I need time to deliberate. Let the assembly be adjourned. O Brahmin, go back to the Pāṇḍavas and tell them that I shall send Sañjaya soon with my reply.”
After the priest had been worshipped by Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s court Brahmins, he left the assembly. Everyone then returned to their own abodes, leaving Dhṛtarāṣṭra alone with his personal servants.
The blind king pressed his hands together. There was no doubt that Bhīṣma had spoken wisely, as he always did. Dhṛtarāṣṭra could not ignore his assessment of the situation, especially when it was shared by Vidura, Droṇa and Kṛpa. These were all learned and virtuous men. Now they were imploring him to control Duryodhana and return Yudhiṣṭhira’s kingdom to him.
But whenever he spoke to his son he felt powerless in his hands. Even when he tried to instruct Duryodhana in righteousness, Duryodhana simply laughed. The prince’s view of righteousness did not include justice for the Pāṇḍavas. It seemed that Providence was in control and that they were all moving inevitably toward some divine plan. Dhṛtarāṣṭra sighed and loosened his heavy royal robes. Perhaps he should take stern action and have his son chastised and even imprisoned, but he simply felt unable. All he could do was advise the prince for his own good. After that, it was between him and his own destiny how he chose to act.
The king called for Sañjaya. Sañjaya was intelligent and affectionate toward the Pāṇḍavas; he would certainly be the best man to send as an envoy to them. He would know what to say to pacify them. Perhaps he would even be able to prevent a war.
Sañjaya entered the room and, after he had announced himself, Dhṛtarāṣṭra said, “O Sañjaya, the sons of Pāṇḍu are now living in Virata. Please go to them and convey my feelings. O learned one, I have never heard of faults in those men. Even now, after suffering so much at our hands, they remain friendly toward us. They act only to acquire virtue and never fall into ignorance, folly or laziness. Those heroes have conquered their senses and live only for others’ benefit. They have no enemies other than that great weak-brained fool, my son, Duryodhana, and the still meaner Karṇa. Duryodhana is strong only at the beginning of endeavors because he is so given to indulgence. Still, he thinks himself capable of robbing the Pāṇḍavas of their rightful share. Who could hope to stand against Yudhiṣṭhira, Keśava, Arjuna, Bhīma, Mādrī’s twin sons, Sātyaki, and the other great kings? Indeed, Arjuna alone, with Kṛṣṇa guiding his chariot, can subdue the three worlds. His arrows fly in clouds, roaring like thunder and sweeping away everything in their path.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra had thought about the upcoming battle again and again. He knew his sons did not stand a chance. Although they had a bigger army, that would not stop the Pāṇḍavas, assisted as they were by Kṛṣṇa, from winning.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra revealed his fears to Sañjaya. “No one can hope to conquer Kṛṣṇa; He is always victorious. He is the best of all men and the Lord of the worlds. With His support the Pāṇḍavas could, I am certain, stand against the celestial host, headed by Indra and Mahadeva. Just He and Arjuna together have already shown their power at Khāṇḍava. What then can we expect when they are united with Bhīma and the twins? Our army is finished! The Pāṇḍavas’ power is inestimable. O Sañjaya, let me tell you about the other kings who have rallied to their cause.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra had already heard from his spies about the situation in Virata. After listing all the kings supporting the Pāṇḍavas, he again turned to the discussion of Kṛṣṇa. It was Kṛṣṇa he feared. Just see how easily He had slain the mighty Śiśupāla, Naraka, Kaṁsa, and so many others. “He is surely Viṣṇu incarnate. Thinking of Kṛṣṇa’s power and Viṣṇu’s deeds in former ages, I find no peace, O son of Gavalgani. Perhaps the only person I fear more is Yudhiṣṭhira. I do not fear anyone as I fear him. He has long practiced austerity and dedicated himself to virtue. Whoever receives his wrath will be consumed like a reed falling into fire. His cause is just. This also frightens me.
“Therefore, go on a swift car to the high-minded Pāṇḍava and speak affectionate and kind words. Tell him that I desire peace and will comply with any request he makes. Inquire after his welfare and that of his friends and followers. Say whatever you feel is appropriate to promote the interests of our race. Do not speak anything which will give rise to hostility.”
Without offering assurance that the Pāṇḍavas would regain their kingdom, Dhṛtarāṣṭra gave his own message to Sañjaya and then asked him to leave at once.
1.42: Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s Message
The Pāṇḍavas were sitting alone with Kṛṣṇa when they received word of Sañjaya’s arrival. Yudhiṣṭhira asked that he be brought in at once and then received him warmly. Sañjaya bowed before Kṛṣṇa and all the brothers. After he was seated he said to Yudhiṣṭhira, “It is fortunate, O King, that I find you in good health and among friends. Surrounded by your brothers and the illustrious Kṛṣṇa, you appear like Indra. The aged and wise Dhṛtarāṣṭra inquires after your welfare, along with the well-being of your wife and other relatives.”
After saying that everything was well, and asking after the Kurus’ welfare, Yudhiṣṭhira said, “Do the Kurus still think well of us? Do they remember Arjuna’s unequalled prowess and that he can send sixty arrows at once from his bow? Do they remember the mighty Bhīma, who can make entire armies tremble when he picks up his mace? Do they remember the twins, who conquered so many regions of the earth by the strength of their arms? Surely Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons have not forgotten the defeat they met at Dwaitavana, when Bhīma and Arjuna had them released. Although we would be their friends and live with them in peace, I fear this will not come to pass. Alas, Sañjaya, there seems to be no way to win Duryodhana over despite our best endeavors.”
“It is exactly as you say,” Sañjaya replied sadly. “The Kurus are well and they certainly remember you. Duryodhana is surrounded by both wise and wicked men, but he takes his inspiration only from the latter. His behavior toward you is surely reprehensible. His father sincerely regrets it. Indeed, the old king often sits sighing, lost in feelings of repentance for the ill treatment you brothers have received at Kuru hands. He has consulted Brahmins and knows that conspiring against friends is the worst of all sins. The king wants only to make a lasting peace among us all. Yes, the Kurus remember your power. It is a mystery how men of your caliber are forced to suffer so much misery, but we are sure that you will never abandon virtue for the sake of pleasure. O you who have created no enemies, listen now as I convey to you Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s message.”
Yudhiṣṭhira asked that Sañjaya speak the message before all the kings gathered at Virata’s court. The charioteer then stood in their midst and bowed before speaking. “I offer you my respects. Dhṛtarāṣṭra has sent me here to say that he desires peace. He inquires about your welfare and asks with all sincerity that there be peace among us. This is what he said. The sons of Pāṇḍu are all virtuous. They are incapable of a mean act. Yudhiṣṭhira is mild, generous and forgiving, and acts only for the welfare of all beings. How could he be responsible for an act which will destroy us all, which is sinful, and which leads only to hell--an act which will bring the same result regardless of who is successful. Blessed are those who promote their cousins’ interests. They are truly sons, well-wishers and friends of the Kurus who are prepared to sacrifice their own interests for that of the dynasty.”
Kṛṣṇa smiled. The kings glanced at each other. Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s message was clear. They listened as Sañjaya clarified it further.
“If you succeed in subjugating the Kauravas, O sons of Kuntī, and thus regain your kingdom, what will you gain? Having slain your relatives, your life will be like death. What will be the result of a battle in which heroes such as yourselves, Keśava, Sātyaki, Chekitana and others contend with Droṇa, Bhīṣma, Kṛpa, Aśvatthāmā and the Kuru warriors? It means total annihilation. There will be no good to either side. I find it hard to believe that the Pāṇḍavas are capable of causing such destruction. With clasped hands I fall at the feet of Kṛṣṇa and of the aged Drupada. Throwing myself upon your protection, I beg that all be well between the Kurus and the Pāṇḍavas. If someone requested it, you would give up your lives; why, then, would you not act to preserve all these warriors?”
The hall remained silent. Yudhiṣṭhira waited until Sañjaya had taken his seat and said mildly, “What have I said that made you think I wanted war, Sañjaya? What man, so cursed by the gods, would choose war when peace could be made? The sons of Kuntī will act only according to virtue and thus bring happiness to all. One who acts according to the senses’ dictates follows the path leading to misery. We become free from misery only when we are free from the longing to gratify our senses. Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his foolish sons fail to understand this truth. Thus they act in ways which never bring happiness.”
Yudhiṣṭhira looked at Kṛṣṇa, who smiled in approval. The Pāṇḍava stood up as he continued to speak, appearing in his robes and ornaments like a golden banner raised in honor of Indra.
“Having accepted the advice of his dull-headed son, who is wicked and addicted to sin, the king now laments. Why did he not heed Vidura’s words, who desired only the Kurus’ well-being? To gain prestige for himself, Duryodhana seeks to deprive others of prestige. He is jealous, wrathful, haughty, spiteful, and filled with lust. Dhṛtarāṣṭra knows what his son has done, but still he chooses to follow him, thus forsaking both virtue and pleasure. He cannot hold his ill-gotten gains for long, although he wishes for unending prosperity. He and his son desire to rule the earth undisputed. We have heard nothing to indicate that they have changed their minds, O Sañjaya. They now consider whatever of our wealth they possess to be rightfully theirs.”
Yudhiṣṭhira indicated the kings who sat in a circle around the hall. “All these monarchs know well how Duryodhana came to possess our kingdom. He and his brothers, along with the unintelligent Karṇa, think they can overcome us in battle. Obviously, they have not seen Arjuna with his Gāṇḍīva bow stretched to its limit, nor have they seen Bhīma whirling his mace or the twins with their swords in hand. Sañjaya, you know the troubles we have borne at the Kurus’ hands. Even so I forgive them. Let there be peace between us. Let them return Indraprastha to me and they keep Hastināpura. Let Dhṛtarāṣṭra return what is rightfully ours.”
Sañjaya had delivered Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s message, but he now wished to speak on his own behalf. He was surprised to see the usually peaceful Yudhiṣṭhira so inclined toward war. “There can be no doubt that you are attached to virtue, O king of men. Why do you desire to destroy the Kurus? Death may come at any moment. It behooves all men to remain fixed on the path of truth. No one should even contemplate sin, for that may immediately lead one to hell. O Bharata, if the Kurus will not return your kingdom without war, would it not be better for you to live as a beggar than to seek to annihilate them? Indeed, you could live happily with Kṛṣṇa and the Yādavas. Desire for wealth is the enemy of virtue. A wise man should shun it entirely. One who renounces desires and lives simply, even though devoid of wealth, shines like the sun and becomes famous in this world; but one who is the slave of desire, even if he obtains the earth, is ruined.”
As Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s intimate servant, Sañjaya wanted to carry out his mission to secure peace. He knew the Kauravas could not win in a war, but he also doubted Yudhiṣṭhira’s motives. Sañjaya was a spiritual disciple of Vyāsadeva and had received many instructions from the ṛṣi. It seemed to him that Yudhiṣṭhira was allowing himself to be overpowered by material desire without considering what might be in his spiritual interests.
Sañjaya maintained a respectful tone. “O son of Pṛthā, you have studied all the Vedas and performed asceticism. You have controlled your mind and senses and you are dedicated to performing sacrifices and giving charity. Why are you now giving way to anger? You are already famous in this world as a man of the highest principles; you have presided over the Rājasūya and offered gifts to hundreds of thousands of Brahmins. O King, do not let this go in vain by now committing a great sin. Do not act impelled by malice and thereby destroy the results of all your asceticism and sacrifice. Forbearance is surely best for you now, not the enjoyment gained at the cost of great men’s lives. What happiness do you think you will enjoy when you and your brothers have slain all your relatives? Even after gaining the earth, you will have to reap the results of your good and bad deeds. Happiness and distress will arrive in due course, and in the end you will meet with decrepitude and death. O hero, knowing all this you should not fight. If your advisors would have you fight, then you should abandon them. Do not forsake the path that leads to the worlds of the gods and beyond.”
Sañjaya sat down again and Yudhiṣṭhira thought before replying. The sound of the jeweled fountains in the gardens just outside made a gentle cascading resonance. Temple bells chimed in the distance. Fragrant incense billowed through the hall. The kings awaited Yudhiṣṭhira.
Finally, he said, “It is undoubtedly as you say. One should never stray from virtue. But before blaming me, you should first ascertain whether it is virtue or vice I am following. Sometimes virtue may look like vice and vice as virtue. Only after careful deliberation can one discriminate between the two. All men should follow the duties prescribed for them according to their respective social positions. Brahmins may beg for a living, but kṣatriyas may never beg. Even in times of distress, kings and rulers should not accept alms. The creator has ordained that we should live by gaining lordship over lands and protecting the people. I would not accept this entire earth, nor even the kingdoms of the gods, through unrighteousness.
“Here is Kṛṣṇa. He knows every facet of Vedic knowledge and possesses full wisdom. Let Him decide what is right in this case. I will always follow His dictate and will never ignore His advice. Keśava is our friend and well-wisher; we will hear His opinion and decide what should be done.”
As Yudhiṣṭhira took his seat, Kṛṣṇa stood. His bodily lustre seemed to illuminate the hall with a mystical radiance. Shining yellow silks and gold ornaments framed His complexion, which resembled a blackish autumnal rain cloud. Turning His lotus-petal eyes toward Sañjaya, He said, “O Sañjaya, I desire that both the Pāṇḍavas and the Kurus be happy and prosperous. I want peace and I am happy to see that Dhṛtarāṣṭra also desires it. Yudhiṣṭhira has already shown a rare kind of commitment to peace, since it is he who has been antagonized and abused by the Kurus. Why should he suddenly wish to escalate the conflict between himself and his cousins? Surely, Sañjaya, you know as well as I do the nature of right and wrong. Why, then, do you find fault with Pāṇḍu’s son, who has always adhered to his duties as they have been laid down in the scriptures since the days of old?
“Regarding our present discussion, there are two schools of thought among the Brahmins. Some say that by renouncing our duties we shall achieve perfection, and others say that duties should never be renounced but should be performed without attachment. My opinion concurs with this latter view, O Sañjaya. Even to maintain himself a man must perform his duties in this world. Knowledge without work yields no fruit.”
Kṛṣṇa held up a bejeweled hand as He spoke. “See how the gods in heaven shine through work, how through work the wind blows and the sleepless sun gives rise to day and night? Sleepless does the Earth goddess carry her load, and sleepless do the rivers carry their waters to satisfy all creatures. Indra attained his exalted status by giving up pleasure and sense gratification. This is true of all the principal deities. Knowing this, O suta, why do you plead on behalf of the Kauravas, exhorting the Pāṇḍavas to renounce their prescribed duties? You are wise and aware of the truth. Then consider this question: does a king’s duty lie in fighting or in not fighting? Surely you know that the creator endowed kings with the power to check and even kill miscreants. Dhṛtarāṣṭra has robbed Yudhiṣṭhira of his rightful property. Whether one steals covertly or openly, stealing is sinful. Should Duryodhana and his followers not then face the consequences of their sin? Is Yudhiṣṭhira not justified in seeking to recover his stolen property, even if it means killing the robbers?”
Kṛṣṇa looked at Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers, who sat together like a pride of lions. The eyes of all the kings turned toward them as Kṛṣṇa continued.
“Certainly Yudhiṣṭhira desires peace; but if his kingdom is not returned, then in My opinion it is his duty to declare war. Indeed, it would be virtuous and praiseworthy to be killed fighting in such a religious war. It is better that Yudhiṣṭhira regain his own ancestral kingdom than to take the kingdom of another. O Sañjaya, go now and lay these ancient principles before Dhṛtarāṣṭra amid his sons and the assembled chiefs of the various countries.”
Kṛṣṇa paused. His audience was absorbed, accepting His gently spoken arguments. Even Sañjaya nodded his head in agreement as Kṛṣṇa went on.
“My dear Sañjaya, let Me remind you that the Kurus committed their sin in their own council hall. All of them, even Bhīṣma, was silent when the chaste Draupadī stood weeping in Dushashana’s clutches. That slave of lust viciously dragged her before her fathers-in-law to abuse and insult her. If Dhṛtarāṣṭra had checked his sons, he would then have pleased Me. He and all the Kurus said nothing. That is, all except Vidura and one honest kṣatriya. The other kings also remained silent. You too, Sañjaya, did not utter a word. Now you want to preach righteousness to Yudhiṣṭhira.”
Kṛṣṇa’s eyes flashed as He described the incident. “At that time Karṇa spoke such sharp words to Draupadī that they pierced her heart. ‘Become the Kauravas’ slave,’ the fool said. ‘Your husbands are no longer your husbands. Choose another man.’ Karṇa’s arrow of words also buried itself deep into Arjuna’s heart.
“The sinful Śakuni again and again urged Yudhiṣṭhira in the dice game, ‘You have only Draupadī left. Stake her, O King.’
“Again, when the Pāṇḍavas were about to depart to honor their vow, clad in black deerskins, Dushashana said, ‘These eunuchs, vanquished and ruined, are going to hell for a long time.’”
Kṛṣṇa paused again to allow His words to sink in. After thirteen years the shock of those terrible events had worn off, but as Kṛṣṇa described them, Sañjaya remembered the horror of that day. He knew he had been wrong to stand by silently as Duryodhana and his friends committed their crime. Out of loyalty to the blind king he had watched in anguish as the noble Pāṇḍavas, and especially their gentle wife, had suffered unbearable insults. Without doubt the seeds of the present calamity had been sown at that time. The arrows the Kauravas had shot at that time would now come back at them as blazing shafts launched from the Gāṇḍīva. The elders’ silence on that day would soon be answered by the clamor of fierce battle. Sañjaya bowed his head.
Kṛṣṇa continued. “I shall go to Hastināpura to remind the Kurus of all these events. We will settle the matter. If I can bring about peace without injuring the Pāṇḍavas’ interests, then I will have performed a virtuous act. I will also have released the Kurus from the clutches of death. I hope Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons will receive Me with respect when I go there to speak of virtue and humanity. If it is otherwise, you can be sure that those men, consumed by their own viciousness, will lose everything on the battlefield. At the proper time, Bhīma, mace in hand, will remind Duryodhana of his cruel words.”
Looking around the hall, Kṛṣṇa concluded with a number of poetic metaphors. “Duryodhana is a tree full of malice, Karṇa is its trunk, Śakuni its branch, Dushashana and his brothers the numerous fruits and flowers, and the blind king Dhṛtarāṣṭra its root. On the other hand, Yudhiṣṭhira is a tall tree full of virtue, Arjuna is its trunk, Bhīma its branch, and the twins its fruits and flowers. I myself, along with the Vedas and the Brahmins, are its root.
“O Sañjaya, tell your master that peace with the Pāṇḍavas is the only intelligent course. The Kurus are like a forest and the Pāṇḍavas are the tigers. Without tigers men would cut down the trees, and without the forest the tigers have no protection. They need each other.
“The Kauravas are creepers of virtue while the Pāṇḍavas are huge sal trees. Without the support of a tree the creepers cannot grow. Pāṇḍu’s sons are ready to either wait on Dhṛtarāṣṭra or ready to fight. Everything depends on how the king acts now. Go back, wise one, and explain all this to Dhṛtarāṣṭra.”
Sañjaya made no reply. He knew that Kṛṣṇa spoke the truth. Bowing respectfully to Him, he turned to Yudhiṣṭhira and said, “With your permission I will leave. O god among men, I hope I have not offended you in any way. After saying good-bye to Janārdana, Bhīmasena, Arjuna and Mādrī’s sons, as well as the other heroes in the assembly, please give me leave to depart. May happiness and prosperity be yours. May the king look upon you with goodwill.”
Yudhiṣṭhira folded his palms toward Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s secretary and replied, “O Sañjaya, we know you are our well-wisher. Your speech did not offend us, for you spoke with a pure heart. Surely you are our favorite and you have always shown us so much affection. Other than you, only Vidura could have come here. O wise one, please convey our regards to our elders and friends. Offer our respects to the Brahmins and our affection to the people. Is the king protecting them well? O Sañjaya, are the arrangements we made for the well-being of all our subjects still in place? I hope no person is needy or afflicted within the Kurus’ jurisdiction.”
Yudhiṣṭhira named the Kurus one by one and asked Sañjaya to go to each of them on his behalf and ask after their health. At last he said, “Go to Duryodhana, who is dull-headed, ignorant, wicked and addicted to vice, and say that the desire tormenting his heart for undisputed rulership is not justified. Tell him this: ‘We shall not do anything disagreeable to you. Either give back Indraprastha or fight, O chief of the Bharatas.’”
The assembled kings cheered Yudhiṣṭhira’s words and the Pāṇḍava raised his hand to silence them. Turning again to Sañjaya he said, “I pray that the Supreme Lord will bless that foolish man with wisdom. Sañjaya, also say this to Duryodhana: ‘Pāṇḍu’s sons are ready to forget even the disrobing and abuse of their wife just so that the Kurus may not be slaughtered. We will bear all the ills and insults they have heaped upon us, but we want our due share. O best among men, give up your greed for others’ property. Only then will there be peace. We will accept even one province so that we may perform our God-given duty of ruling over and protecting the people. Give us just five villages, one for each of us, and let there be an end to this quarrel. Let brother follow brother and father unite with son. I desire to see the Kauravas and the Pañchālas coming together with cheerful hearts. To do my duty I am prepared for peace or war. The choice is in your hands.’”
When Yudhiṣṭhira was finished, each of his brothers gave messages for the Kauravas. When they had all spoken, Sañjaya said he would repeat their messages exactly as they had been spoken. Then he bowed before the assembly and departed for Hastināpura.
1.43: Anxiety for the Blind King
Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat alone in his chambers. Sañjaya had been gone for days and was due back at any time. The king wondered how the Pāṇḍavas would receive his message. Surely the gentle Yudhiṣṭhira would not opt for war. How could he condone killing his beloved elders? But he would certainly act on Kṛṣṇa’s advice. Kṛṣṇa was an unknown element. Dhṛtarāṣṭra could not fathom His motivations or intentions. Sometimes He seemed impartial--or at least He said He was--yet He always appeared to favor the Pāṇḍavas. Then again He had given His army to Duryodhana and had promised not to fight. It was difficult to understand.
As Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat thinking, a messenger entered his room to inform him that Sañjaya had returned. The king asked that Sañjaya be shown in at once.
Sañjaya entered the chamber with clasped hands and stood before Dhṛtarāṣṭra. “O lord of the earth, I am Sañjaya, returned from seeing the Pāṇḍavas. Yudhiṣṭhira sends his greetings and asks after your health, and that of your sons and grandsons.”
“Blessings to you, Sañjaya. Welcome back. Tell me how Yudhiṣṭhira, who creates no enemies, is faring. Are he and his brothers well?”
“All is well with the Pāṇḍavas. Yudhiṣṭhira desires to have what was formerly his. In his opinion, virtue is superior to acquiring wealth, and it is the essence of happiness and joy. That godly man, motivated only by virtue, wishes to again protect the people in accord with the eternal duties the creator has assigned to him. Surely men are puppets led by God’s will. Otherwise, how could the Pāṇḍavas have suffered so much? I think that as long as a powerful man does not have an opportunity to rectify things, his antagonists will prosper. Your acts have been indescribably sinful, O King, and you will soon receive their results. Yudhiṣṭhira, having cast away sin as a snake sloughs its skin, is now resplendent amid other heroes.”
Sañjaya’s long and intimate relationship with Dhṛtarāṣṭra allowed him to be frank. The king winced as his secretary continued. “Reflect carefully on your course, O King, because your motives are suicidal. You have acted dishonorably toward the Pāṇḍavas, and you have achieved neither virtue nor wealth. Vicious and cruel, your deeds have earned you only shame and censure among men. We can understand such actions from low-class men with poor education, but you are born in the line of Bharata and have been advised by many wise ministers. You too are wise and know the difference between right and wrong. Why, then, do you act to bring about the destruction of your race?”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra pressed a forefinger and thumb into his eyes. He felt unbearably hot, although he was being fanned on both sides by young maidens with chamara whisks. He unbuttoned his tunic and called for a cup of cool water. Sañjaya did not relent. He could not bear to see his master bring about his own ruin. The time for diplomacy was past. Disaster was imminent. If there was any hope of averting it, the king needed to keep hearing the truth--and do something soon.
“Surely the Pāṇḍavas are aided by divine forces. Otherwise, how could Arjuna have gone to the heavens in his mortal body? God alone awards men the results of their deeds. Our exertions are useless if we fail to recognize this truth. Striving only for our own gratification, we will gain nothing but misery. O King, I blame you for the present situation. You have acted without regard for God’s laws. If you do not reverse your decisions, you will be responsible for the annihilation of innumerable men. Arjuna will destroy the Kurus as fire destroys a heap of dry grass. Influenced by your headstrong son, you think your success is sure. Thus you did not prevent the dice game. Now look at the result of such madness. O King, because you are weak you will not be able to retain sovereignty over this broad realm, any more than a fool can retain wealth suddenly gained.”
It was late and Sañjaya was tired from his long journey. He asked Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s permission to take rest and said he would return in the morning to deliver Yudhiṣṭhira’s message to the assembly. The king dismissed his servant with kind words. He knew that Sañjaya had only his interests at heart, no matter how cutting his words.
After Sañjaya left, Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat alone, his mind wracked by painful thoughts. Everything depended upon him. It would surely be just to return Indraprastha to Yudhiṣṭhira, but Duryodhana would never agree. Would he be able to check him? It had been almost twenty years since Dhṛtarāṣṭra had assumed the throne. Now he was lord of the earth--that is, he and Duryodhana, his empowered representative. To give Yudhiṣṭhira his kingdom would end all that. The self-effulgent Pāṇḍavas would soon reestablish their supremacy over their cousins. He and Duryodhana would be eclipsed. The king felt his limbs tremble. Having had such power, it would be worse than death to have it taken away.
Although it was late, Dhṛtarāṣṭra felt that he needed to hear from Vidura. No one could offer him impartial, thoughtful advice like Vidura. The king asked that Vidura be summoned and within a short time he entered the chamber. “O you of great wisdom, I am Vidura, here at your command. Order me. What can I do for you? I am your servant.”
The king welcomed him warmly and had him sit at his side. He spoke in somber tones. “O Vidura, I have just spoken with Sañjaya. He strongly criticized me. He has not yet told me what Yudhiṣṭhira said and now I am anxious. My body is burning and I cannot sleep. Tell me how to cure my condition.”
Vidura, who had been called from his prayer and meditation, replied, “Sleeplessness overpowers one who has been attacked by a stronger man, the weak, those who have failed to attain their goal, those who have been robbed, those consumed by desire, and thieves. I hope that you do not fall into any of these categories, O King, nor that you are greedy for another’s wealth.”
Vidura knew well the king’s dilemma. He had discussed it with him on countless occasions, always offering him the same advice. Dhṛtarāṣṭra had always ignored it. Vidura had repeatedly warned him of the eventual outcome of his acts, an outcome which was now imminent. Dhṛtarāṣṭra was obviously realizing that fact.
The king turned his head toward Vidura. “Speak wisdom to me, dear brother. Speak those words which are at once morally uplifting and also calculated to secure my welfare.”
Vidura’s affection for his brother never waned, despite his brother’s foolishness. He patiently advised him for his good, praying that one day the blind king would come to his senses. Perhaps now, with the approach of calamity, he would become more thoughtful. Vidura said, “Yudhiṣṭhira is a king graced with all the auspicious marks. He is fit to rule the world. You should have kept him near you, but you exiled him. For this blindness you are condemned, O King, although you know what is virtue. Because he is inoffensive, kind, forgiving and a lover of truth, Yudhiṣṭhira remembers your supremacy and patiently bears the hardships you have inflicted upon him. Having bestowed lordship of the world on Duryodhana, who bears enmity toward Yudhiṣṭhira, how can you now expect peace and prosperity?”
Vidura had himself received many instructions from ṛṣis and sages, and he sought their association whenever it was available. Recalling the saints’ words of wisdom, he became more gentle with Dhṛtarāṣṭra as he continued to instruct him. The king listened attentively.
“He is said to be a wise man who cannot be deviated from his duties by anger, exultation, pride, lust or ignorance, and who remains fixed on the highest goals of life. Attachment to the saintly, renouncing the association of blameworthy men, and maintaining faith and reverence toward elders are also signs of the wise. A wise man acts in accordance with religion, pursuing a course that benefits him in both this life and the next rather than one that offers only immediate pleasure. Wise men do not lament for what is lost, nor do they hanker for the unattainable. They rejoice in virtuous deeds and they shun sin. The wise understand this world to be temporary and miserable. They recognize God’s supremacy and their own position as His servants. All their acts are aimed at pleasing the Lord and achieving His eternal abode.
“On the other hand, a fool is proud, even though ignorant, vain and poor. Fools try to achieve prosperity through sin, and hanker after others’ property. Resorting to deceit and violence, a fool thinks nothing of hurting others to achieve his nefarious ends. A fool forsakes that which should be obtained and desires that which should not be desired. He is faithless, makes no offerings to the ancestors, and worships only himself. Arrogant, angry and harsh of speech, he lacks discrimination and befriends those who should be foes while hating those worthy of friendship. Failing in his endeavors, he blames others and punishes the innocent. Such men are ultimately destroyed to their roots.”
Vidura instructed Dhṛtarāṣṭra well into the night. He tried his best to turn the old king’s mind toward virtue and truth. He had nothing new to say to Dhṛtarāṣṭra. The Kuru monarch had often heard such teachings. He agreed with everything, and even enjoyed hearing it. As Vidura spoke the king recognized his own foolishness and sinfulness, and he freely admitted them. He prompted Vidura to speak more and more, asking question after question. The night ended with Vidura pointing out the certain results that would ensue if the king did not act fairly toward the Pāṇḍavas.
But Dhṛtarāṣṭra knew he could not find the strength to act upon Vidura’s wisdom. He knew that even though he wanted to act properly, he would not have the will to cross Duryodhana. He knew that when he sat among the kings in the assembly the next morning, he would be unable to accede to Yudhiṣṭhira’s request.
Vidura understood the king’s position. He knew his words were having little effect and decided that Dhṛtarāṣṭra needed to hear from someone more spiritually potent. After having spoken to the king for several hours he said finally, “I am a śūdra, O King. I cannot instruct you further. But I know of someone who can. The saintly Ṛṣi Sanat-Sujata has instructed me in the eternal Vedic truths on many occasions. I will invoke him and he will appear to speak to you. That sage has lived a life of perpetual celibacy. His words are powerful and pure. With your permission, I will call him.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra assented and Vidura sat in meditation, fixing his mind on Sanat-Sujata. The Ṛṣi divined Vidura’s thoughts by his own power and he came there at once. His body shone with a brilliant luster, and he carried a waterpot and a staff in his hands. Vidura received him with due rites and offered him an elevated seat near the king.
When the sage was sitting at his ease, Vidura said, “O lord, the king has doubts I cannot clear. If it is your desire, please instruct him in the ancient truths as you have realized them. Only you can free him from duality and help him become fixed on the path of virtue.”
The Ṛṣi, who was clad in a black deerskin and had matted locks of hair, nodded. Seeing his willingness to speak, Vidura told the king to place his questions before him. Dhṛtarāṣṭra said, “O Sanat-Sujata, please guide me. Pray tell me how I can attain to the highest end of my life. Death comes to all beings, but I hear that you know the secret of defeating death. How should I act so that I might not be forever subjected to birth and death in this world?”
Sanat-Sujata replied, “You have asked how death may be avoided and eternal life attained. Listen, O King, and I shall instruct you to the best of my knowledge. It is said that actual death is ignorance. Where there is no ignorance, there is no death. He who is ruled by lust, anger and greed is ruled by Yamarāja and will see that great god again and again. Falling into all kinds of hells he suffers unbearable miseries. Then he rises again and takes birth among animals and men in this world, once more beginning the cycle. One who controls his senses, however, and does not act on their dictates is saved from this suffering. To such a man who checks his mind and senses, death is a straw tiger. Therefore, you should avoid all sensual desires and cultivate knowledge of the eternal soul, which exists separately from the senses and is different from the body.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked, “What regions do those who control their senses attain? How should such a man act in this world? O sage, I am not satiated by hearing you speak only once.”
Sanat-Sujata sat cross-legged on the golden seat, his two hands held in front of him with forefinger and thumb joined together as he spoke. “O King, one should perform sacrifice and penance aimed at pleasing the Supreme Person. If you do this, you will attain the supreme, eternal regions from which you will not return. Step by step, one should progress along the path of knowledge, never thinking oneself to be the material body and always acting to attain spiritual progress.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra flinched as the sage continued. The aged monarch already knew these teachings. He knew the sage spoke the truth. Dhṛtarāṣṭra knew that his own actions had been far from submissive to those instructions. Worse than that, however, he knew he was unlikely to change. No doubt he would have to perform much asceticism and penance to atone for his sins. Maybe then he would finally be able to apply the saint’s instructions. It seemed that for now, Destiny was moving him to act in ways contrary to good advice. Feeling helpless in the face of his own weakness, Dhṛtarāṣṭra went on questioning the Ṛṣi.
Sanat-Sujata could also see the king’s inner feelings, but he continued to address him for his ultimate welfare. It was up to Dhṛtarāṣṭra to choose his own course of action. The sage knew that all he could do was make clear the consequences of the various courses available to the king.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra listened as Sanat-Sujata described how the Supersoul pervades the universe and resides in the hearts of all living beings.
The king asked, “How can one come to know that Supersoul?”
“The Supreme, who is known as Brahman, can only be known by one who has attained the same spiritual nature as Him. That nature is attained by the practice of serving the spiritual master, studying the Vedas, observing celibacy, practicing asceticism, and abstaining from violence toward others. Gradually one will become free of the material nature’s influence and become situated in his original spiritual nature. Then by meditation, one can know the Supreme.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra was intrigued. “What form does the immortal and omnipresent Supersoul have in this world? Is he white, red, black, or some other color? What are his attributes?”
“He may appear as any color, but He is not like anything within your present experience. He is the form of the universe, but simultaneously appears in the heart in a form the size of your thumb. Everything rests in Him and is absorbed back into Him at the time of dissolution. He is without duality and yet from Him springs the infinite varieties of creation. His arms and legs are everywhere yet He is still. He sees everything and He possesses all knowledge. No one is unknown to the Supreme Being.”
Returning to the king’s question about how to know the Supersoul, the sage further described what behavior elevates one to the spiritual platform. He went on to explain about the nature of Brahman and the state one experiences when he attains that nature. Sanat-Sujata spoke until the rising sun filled the king’s chamber. Seeing that it was daybreak, the Ṛṣi concluded his discourse and stood up to leave. Vidura touched his feet and both he and the king thanked him for his instructions. Sanat-Sujata then vanished, leaving the two men to prepare themselves for the assembly.
1.44: Panic Among the Kauravas
Duryodhana had risen early on the day of the assembly. He knew Sañjaya was going to deliver Yudhiṣṭhira’s message. After performing his morning ablutions and receiving the worship and praise of the palace Brahmins and bards, the prince met with Śakuni and Karṇa. He expressed his determination not to return the Pāṇḍavas’ kingdom. His friends agreed and cheered him. They encouraged him to remain firm and assured him that his old father, bound by ties of affection, would not force him to return Indraprastha if he was resolute. As they spoke, the three men slowly made their way to the assembly hall, which shone like the Himavat mountain in the early morning sunlight.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra entered the hall at the head of all other kings. Led by Vidura, he made his way to his throne. The floor in the hall had been sprinkled lightly with perfumes and spread with flower petals. The kings took their places on seats made of carved ivory and wood, decorated with golden inlays and precious stones. As they settled onto the silk cushions, they looked around to see who was present. Immediately surrounding Dhṛtarāṣṭra were Vidura, Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Śalya, Kṛtavarmā, Jayadratha, Bāhlika, Somadatta, Aśvatthāmā, as well as Duryodhana and his one hundred brothers. The chamber, filled with so many heroes, seemed like a cave full of lions. The lustrous men, with their bright silks and golden ornaments, lit up the hall and appeared like an assembly of the gods.
When everyone was seated, the doorkeeper announced that Sañjaya had arrived and was waiting to deliver his message. Dhṛtarāṣṭra gave permission for him to enter the hall. Sañjaya, his gold earrings swinging, bowed at Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s feet. Folding his palms he faced the assembly and said, “O sons of Kuru, I have just returned from the Pāṇḍavas. Those virtuous men salute you all, each according to your age and status. Hear now the messages they have sent through me.”
Sañjaya carefully relayed Yudhiṣṭhira’s message exactly as he had heard it: either the Kurus should return the Pāṇḍavas’ kingdom--or even just five villages--or there would be war.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra said nothing. He looked pensive. After some moments he said, “I wish to hear Arjuna’s message, for it is from him that we face the greatest danger. Kṛṣṇa’s friend, Arjuna, is immeasurably powerful and has suffered at our hands. Tell me, Sañjaya, what did Dhanañjaya, the destroyer of sinful men, say?”
Sañjaya bowed his head to the king and remained standing. “These were the words of the wrathful Arjuna, who was eager to fight and who, with reddened eyes, spoke in the presence of Yudhiṣṭhira and Kṛṣṇa.”
Summoning the mood in which Arjuna had spoken, Sañjaya delivered his exact words: “Speak to Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son in the midst of the Kurus, and in the hearing of the wicked-minded Karṇa, who always desires to fight, speaks harshly, has a dull intellect, and is extremely ignorant. His time has come. Speak also in the presence of those kings who have come from around the world to fight the Pāṇḍavas. If Duryodhana does not surrender Yudhiṣṭhira’s kingdom, then it is clear that he desires to pay for his former antagonism toward the Pāṇḍavas. If he chooses battle, then our ends will be achieved. Tell him not to choose peace, but to choose to fight with me and Bhīma, Nakula and Sahadeva, Sātyaki and Dṛṣṭadyumna, and Śikhaṇḍī. I look forward to it. Although we have lain on a bed of woe these last thirteen years, let Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son, when he lies dead on the battlefield, obtain a bed of endless woe. He could never conquer the virtuous Yudhiṣṭhira in a fight. Therefore, he resorted to trickery and deceit. Pāṇḍu’s eldest son, whose senses and mind are fully under control, has patiently endured all his suffering. When he directs his anger against the Kauravas, then will Duryodhana have cause to repent.”
Duryodhana sneered as Sañjaya continued. Arjuna described how he envisioned the war between them taking place. “As a blazing fire in the summer consumes dried grass, so will the Kaurava army be consumed even by Yudhiṣṭhira’s glance. When Duryodhana sees the iron-clad Bhīmasena on his chariot, mace in hand and vomiting the venom of his wrath, then will he repent this war. When that exceedingly vain one sees Bhīma felling elephants by the thousands, their warriors dispatched to the next world, then will he repent. When Nakula comes down from his chariot, clutching his sword and razing warriors as if they were a field of corn, then will the wicked one repent. When Sahadeva chops off the heads of kings with his well-aimed arrows, and when he finally encounters the vicious Śakuni, then will Duryodhana repent.”
One by one Arjuna mentioned all the great warriors who would fight for the Pāṇḍavas, describing how they would wreak vengeance on the Kauravas. Dṛṣṭadyumna would kill Droṇa and Śikhaṇḍī would slay Bhīṣma. Bhīma had already vowed to slay Duryodhana and all his brothers. Arjuna would destroy warriors by the tens of thousands. Finally he would kill Karṇa and all his sons and followers. Arjuna painted a grim picture of the war’s outcome, which he saw ending in the total annihilation of Duryodhana and his forces. Finally he spoke about Kṛṣṇa.
“I have selected Kṛṣṇa as my charioteer in preference to Indra and his thunderbolt weapon. If Kṛṣṇa desires someone’s victory, even if He Himself does not fight, that person cannot fail. Our victory will be easy. Whoever desires to overpower Kṛṣṇa wishes to swim the unfathomable ocean or to put out a blazing fire with his two hands, or to stop the sun and moon in their course through the heavens. That best of men, the Lord of all the worlds, has already slain demons more powerful than Duryodhana. Even the invincible Naraka, son of the Earth, who could easily withstand the gods in battle, succumbed to Kṛṣṇa’s irresistible weapons. Duryodhana desires to defeat Kṛṣṇa, who is the Supreme Viṣṇu, either by capturing Him or by winning Him over to the Kaurava side. That fool will soon realize his ignorance.”
Through their spies, the Pāṇḍavas were aware of the Kauravas’ strategies. Arjuna knew that Duryodhana feared Kṛṣṇa and was thinking of how to deal with Him. The Kaurava prince even considered capturing Him when He came to Hastināpura on His peace mission.
Arjuna ended his speech by describing the omens he saw: “Without my touch the Gāṇḍīva bow stretches. My arrows move out of their quiver on their own accord. My polished sword leaps from its scabbard. Near my banners I heard, ‘When will your chariot be yoked, O Kirīṭī?’ At night, crowds of jackals howl gleefully and vultures and crows descend from the sky. All these signs indicate carnage. These omens will prove true when I hurl my celestial weapons in all directions. I will leave no trace of the Kaurava army. O Sañjaya, tell this to Duryodhana in the hearing of the king, Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, and the wise Vidura. I will surely act as these elders say. Let them check the evil Duryodhana or let the war begin.”
The assembly was silent. Duryodhana looked nonchalantly around the hall, smirking. Karṇa fumed and clutched his ivory-hilted sword. Seeing Duryodhana’s indifference, Bhīṣma addressed him gravely.
“O prince, listen as I recount an ancient history. Once all the gods went to visit Brahmā. Arriving at his abode they saw two beautiful, blazing personalities illuminating even that shining region by their splendor. Brahmā told the gods that these two were Nara and Nārāyaṇa Ṛṣis. They were forever practicing asceticism for the good of the worlds, and they lived to destroy the demons. The gods had come to Brahmā out of fear of the Asuras and, headed by Bṛhaspati, they approached those two Ṛṣis and begged that they help them defeat their enemies. Assisted by Nara and Nārāyaṇa Ṛṣis’ invincible power, the gods triumphed over the Asuras. Now those two Ṛṣis among the gods have appeared as Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna. Such is the general belief. Arjuna has already shown his prowess by slaying thousands of demons in the celestial realm. The son of Vasudeva has also killed innumerable demons. Together they have vanquished the gods at Khāṇḍava, and together they will fight us.”
Bhīṣma looked penetratingly at Duryodhana, who moved uncomfortably on his throne. He did not want to hear about his enemies’ power. Anyway, why should he worry? He thought of the Dānavas’ assurances and remembered how they would possess his forces. Soon he would be seeing a different Bhīṣma, and soon the Pāṇḍavas would be facing an army more powerful than they had anticipated.
Bhīṣma concluded his speech. “Nara and Nārāyaṇa repeatedly take birth in this world to annihilate the miscreants and demons. It was Nārada Ṛṣi who told us this. O child, when you see these two seated on the same chariot, armed for battle, then you will remember my words. By desiring to fight with them you have lost sight of both virtue and profit. Do not encounter them in battle. If you ignore my advice, you will see your warriors slain.
“But it seems that you will only listen to the advice of three persons: Karṇa, who is the son of a suta and has been cursed by his guru; the cunning Śakuni; and your small-minded brother Dushashana.”
Karṇa was already seething from Arjuna’s speech. Now he was infuriated. Springing to his feet he exclaimed, “It is unfair that you speak of me in such a way, O Grandfather. I follow a kṣatriya’s duties and have not abandoned virtue. Why do you always revile me? I wish only for the Kurus’ good. Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons are honestly ruling the world. Why should they give the kingdom to their enemies? To serve Dhṛtarāṣṭra I will slay the Pāṇḍavas in battle.”
Karṇa roared and then took his seat. Bhīṣma looked at him sadly; then, turning toward Dhṛtarāṣṭra, said, “O King, although this suta’s son brags of his power, he is not even a sixteenth part of the Pāṇḍavas. You should know that this fool is largely responsible for this calamity about to befall your sons. Encouraged by his empty promises, Duryodhana is ready to face Arjuna in battle. Your weak-brained son, depending upon Karṇa, has insulted the Pāṇḍavas. What can this vain man achieve that is even approaching what Arjuna has achieved? What could he do when Arjuna killed his brother in the fight against the Matsyas? What did he do when your son was carried away by the Gandharvas? Yet he roars like a bull in the assembly. Ignorant of virtue and profit, he simply speaks whatever comes to his mind.”
Bhīṣma sat down. Karṇa kept his head down and said nothing. Bhīṣma’s words cut him deeply. He longed for the chance to prove him wrong. The sooner he could face Arjuna in battle the better. It would be different next time. Indra’s shakti weapon would settle the dispute once and for all. Why had he not had it with him at Virata? Somehow it had not occurred to him to bring that weapon. He had not been expecting to meet Arjuna. Well, he would not make that same mistake again. Then Bhīṣma would be silenced.
Droṇa had listened carefully to everything that had been said. Seeing his opportunity, he rose to speak. Facing Dhṛtarāṣṭra, the old martial preceptor said, “Take heed of Bhīṣma’s words and follow his advice, O King. You should not let yourself be guided by those who covet wealth and are slaves to desire. Peace with the Pāṇḍavas is without doubt the best course. What Arjuna has submitted to us through Sañjaya will surely come to pass if we fight. In all the three worlds, no one wields a bow like him.”
Droṇa, Bhīṣma and Vidura--each looked expectantly at Dhṛtarāṣṭra. But the old king remained silent. Ignoring their advice, he asked Sañjaya to repeat what the other Pāṇḍavas had said. “What did the large-minded Yudhiṣṭhira say when he heard that we had amassed a huge army? Who is looking up to him for orders and who is trying to dissuade him from war? What is that virtuous one, wronged by my wicked sons, now planning?”
Sañjaya, who had been seated while the others had been speaking, came again to the center of the assembly. “All the Pañchālas now look up to Yudhiṣṭhira, as well as the Matsyas and Kekayas. All those tribes, down to the last herdsmen, are ready to do his bidding. Clad in a coat of mail he sits amid their chieftains like Indra amid the gods.”
“Tell me in detail more about Yudhiṣṭhira’s forces. Also, please describe Dṛṣṭadyumna’s army and the army of the Somakas.”
As Sañjaya recalled the sight of those troops he became stunned and fell silent. He drew a long sigh. His mind was overwhelmed with fear and he suddenly fainted.
Vidura said loudly, “Sañjaya, recalling the mighty sons of Kuntī and their assembled troops, has lost control of his senses. He cannot utter a word.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked a servant to sprinkle cool water on Sañjaya’s face.
“The sight of the tigers among men has filled him with terror,” Vidura repeated. “Console him with comforting words, O King, and let him continue his report once his mind is peaceful.”
After some moments, Sañjaya came to his senses. Reassured by Dhṛtarāṣṭra, he drank some water and stood again to address the assembly. “I have seen, O great king, those mighty heroes arrayed in armor like a pride of angry lions. At their head stands the ever-truthful Yudhiṣṭhira, who never departs from virtue out of desire or fear. He is ready to fight even the gods if need be. By his side stands the terrible Bhīmasena, whose strength equals that of ten thousand elephants and who has slain Rākṣasas with his bare hands. Bhīma brought down the powerful Yakṣas on the Gandhamādana mountain, and he slew Kichaka and all his followers.
“Then there is Arjuna, whose glories have already been described and who is fired with wrath. He is repeatedly bending the Gāṇḍīva and uttering war cries. He satisfied the immortal Śiva in a fight and was given the celestial weapons.
“Next Mādrī’s two sons, the powerful twins, stand ready with their terrible weapons, breathing hot and heavy sighs.”
Sañjaya spoke of all the principal warriors on the Pāṇḍavas’ side. He mentioned Śikhaṇḍī, who, according to prophesy, was destined to kill Bhīṣma, and Dṛṣṭadyumna, destined to kill Droṇa. As he named the many great heroes aligned against the Kauravas, Duryodhana and Karṇa scoffed. Dhṛtarāṣṭra, however, became fearful. When Sañjaya stopped speaking, the king began to address the assembly.
“O Sañjaya, all these you have named are powerful and courageous fighters, but Bhīma is equal to them all. He gives me the greatest fear. We are like deer facing an enraged and hungry tiger. Many a night have I remained sleepless, thinking about the furious Bhīma rushing at my sons with mace in hand. I do not see anyone in our army who can face him. When wrathful he is an implacable foe who tears through the battlefield like a tornado. He will surely put an end to my wicked sons. Seeing him advance toward them, they will meet with a calamity equal to meeting the god of death wielding his staff. Bhīma will roam among my sons as a fully grown lion roams among a herd of deer. From his childhood he has been inimical to Duryodhana and his brothers. Finding the opportunity on the battlefield, he will not hesitate to annihilate all of them. O Sañjaya, it is only by good fortune that he has not already killed my sons for the wrongs they have inflicted upon him and his brothers.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra went on to describe the threat Bhīma posed to his sons. Sweat ran down his face and he clenched his fists as he spoke. Bhīma’s vow to kill his sons gave him the greatest anxiety. The kings and ministers in the hall looked at him with pity as he concluded his speech.
“Destiny is surely all-powerful. Even though I see my sons’ inevitable death, still I do not dissuade them from their aims. Because they all desire to traverse the eternal, noble and heavenly path, they will part with their lives in battle and ensure their everlasting fame on earth. Perhaps our only hope now lies in the support of our three aged, wise heroes: Bhīṣma, Droṇa and Kṛpa. They will doubtlessly repay the support and kindness we have given them by coming out for battle against the Pāṇḍavas. Even though the sons of Kuntī are as dear to them as my sons, they will not avoid their duty. For a kṣatriya to meet death in the line of duty is commendable. It leads to glorious regions of bliss. It seems to me, Sañjaya, that knowledge does not destroy woe; rather, distress destroys knowledge. As I contemplate the impending destruction of the Kurus, grief bewilders my senses and confounds my mind. I cannot let go of my attachment for my sons, the kingdom, my wife, my grandsons, and a thousand other things. Such blind attachment leads only to suffering.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra sighed. Bhīṣma and Vidura looked at him in despair. He could clearly understand what would happen should they fight the Pāṇḍavas, but still he would not save the situation. All he had to do was give his sons the order to cease hostilities and the war would be finished before it began. Although Duryodhana officiated as the monarch, his father still occupied the throne as the head of state. If the king ordered the prince to make peace with the Pāṇḍavas, he would have to obey.
But Dhṛtarāṣṭra showed no signs of giving such an order. He seemed resigned to actualize the death and destruction of everyone and everything he held dear. The two ministers looked at each other, hopelessly, as the king continued.
“This great calamity the Kurus now face owes its existence to the dice game. My son is at fault because he is filled with avarice. This is the work of eternal time. Bound by time I am helpless in the face of my own ruination. What can I do? Where will I go? O Sañjaya, the foolish Kurus will all be killed by time and I can do nothing about it. I will hear news of my hundred sons dying and then hear the loud wailing of women. Only I will be left alive. How will death touch me? As a raging fire consumes a dry forest, so Bhīma and Arjuna will consume my army.”
The king then described Arjuna’s prowess, whom he considered no less a danger than Bhīma. He knew Arjuna was truthful and would not kill any of his sons out of respect for Bhīma’s vow, but he would certainly not restrain himself with the rest of the Kaurava forces.
“Although I think about it day and night, I do not see a warrior on earth who can stand against the Gāṇḍīva bow.” Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s voice was almost choking. “Some may think that either Karṇa or Droṇa can withstand him, but I do not share that view. Karṇa is careless and passionate, and the preceptor is old and weakened by affection for Arjuna. No one can kill Arjuna, nor will battle with him result in anything but his own victory. The authorities have assured us of this truth, and the Kurus have witnessed his strength with their own eyes. With Keśava guiding his chariot and the Gāṇḍīva in his hand, Arjuna will be irresistible in battle.
“The fools under Duryodhana’s control do not know this. When a thunderbolt falls on one’s head, something may be left behind. When Arjuna’s arrows fall on one’s head, however, nothing will be left behind. I can see him now in my mind’s eye, coursing through our troops, his arrows flying in all directions and beheading countless warriors. Could anyone face the combined might of Arjuna and Bhīma and survive? Whomever Providence wills to be destroyed will not escape. Alas, the time for the Kurus’ destruction is imminent.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra fell silent. If his sons were destined to die, then it would come to pass. But perhaps destiny would dictate some other outcome. After all, who could have foreseen that the noble Pāṇḍavas would have to give up their kingdom and enter the forest? Maybe their victory was not so certain. The king hardly dared to hope for his own victory. How could the Pāṇḍavas be overcome while they were supported by that unfathomable Kṛṣṇa?
Weeping and sighing repeatedly, Dhṛtarāṣṭra said, “Although you have told me of the Pāṇḍavas’ powerful forces, there is one who equals all of them and more. That mighty one could, by His desire, bring all the worlds under His control. That person is Kṛṣṇa. He seems to have set His mind on the Pāṇḍavas’ victory. It seems hopeless for my party. My heart quakes as I think of Yudhiṣṭhira’s wrath, Bhīma’s prowess, the strength of Arjuna and the twins, and Kṛṣṇa’s inconceivable powers. What fool, desiring death, would fall like a moth into the inextinguishable Pāṇḍava fire? We have treated those heroes deceitfully. As a result, my sons will have to die. O Kurus, do not fight. If you wage war, then our race will be annihilated. Let us seek peace. Yudhiṣṭhira will not disregard me, especially upon seeing my distress.”
The king trailed off in tears. The rest of the assembly regarded him silently. What could anyone say? Dhṛtarāṣṭra had said nothing about giving back Yudhiṣṭhira’s kingdom. His desire for peace was an empty hope born of fear. He would not pay the price to bring peace. War was certain.
Sañjaya again approached the assembly, his hands clasped, and said, “O great king, it will be exactly as you say. That the kṣatriyas will be destroyed by the Gāṇḍīva bow is obvious. I cannot understand how you, who can clearly see this truth, still allow yourself to be controlled by your sons. This is not the time to give way to grief. It is your fault alone that has caused this disaster. You have neglected the Pāṇḍavas, who are like your own sons, and treated them harshly. Sitting in the gambling arena you called out like a child, ‘What has been won?’ See now what you have won. Laugh now as you did then, O King. Now you must face the vengeful Pāṇḍavas and their friend, the Lord of all beings, Kṛṣṇa. The Kauravas are about to sink like a holed boat in a shoreless ocean. Your hope for victory arises only from madness. Whoever despises the Pāṇḍavas will be destroyed. It is not proper that you now grieve, O Bharata. You have had ample opportunity to prevent this calamity, but you repeatedly ignored all good advice. Your lamentations are useless, O chief among kings.”
Sañjaya returned to his seat at the foot of the kings and ministers. Dhṛtarāṣṭra shook his head, tears running down his face and falling into his beard.
Duryodhana began to worry that the king might decide to give in to the Pāṇḍavas. He leapt to his feet and said, “There is nothing to fear, O great king. You need not grieve for us. We are capable of winning the battle. When I heard that Yudhiṣṭhira had amassed an army and was intent upon war, I approached Bhīṣma, Droṇa and Kṛpa. I sought their advice, asking if they felt we should surrender or fight. Victory was by no means certain. Each of them assured me, ‘You need fear no enemies. Let anyone come. We will curb their pride with our sharp arrows. No one can defeat us in battle.’ Declaring their loyalty to you, O King, they reassured me. I have faith in their words. Bhīṣma alone overpowered all the world’s kings at Kashi. Again, that hero subdued the invincible warrior-sage Paraśurāma. How can the Pāṇḍavas defeat him? What power do they have? They do not have their kingdom or their wealth. We are the lords of the earth. Now is the time for us to assert our supremacy and our rightful position. This kingdom is yours, O best of men. How can we surrender it to the enemy?”
As usual, Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s mind was swayed by Duryodhana. It was true that Bhīṣma was an insuperable warrior. He had also been given a boon that he would die only at his own will. No one could kill him. If he declared his intention to fight with all his heart, then all was not lost. The king checked his tears as Duryodhana continued.
“Why are you struck with fear simply upon hearing descriptions of the enemy? Consider our own army, almost twice the size of theirs. Even Indra could not overpower our forces. That Yudhiṣṭhira asks only for five villages shows that he is afraid of our might. As far as Bhīma is concerned, do not be afraid of him. None in this world can equal my mace fighting. I am a match even for Balarāma, my tutor, and with a single blow I will dispatch Bhīma to Death’s abode. I can break the Himavat mountain to pieces. I long to face Bhīma in battle.”
Duryodhana scowled in anger at the thought of Bhīma. He had had the palace artisans make an iron replica of Bhīma. Each day the Kaurava would smash the iron statue with his huge mace. Soon he would have the opportunity to smash Bhīma himself.
“As for Arjuna, how can he possibly be victorious when he fights with Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Aśvatthāmā, Śalya, Bhurisrava and Jayadratha simultaneously? Even Droṇa single-handed is more than a match for him. Born from the immortal Ṛṣi Bharadvāja, no one can even look upon Droṇa when he is worked up in battle. Then there is Kṛpa, born from a powerful ṛṣi. No man or god can slay him. Then there is Karṇa, whom I consider to be the equal of Bhīṣma, Droṇa and Kṛpa combined. Even Indra came to him out of fear and begged for his natural armor. That lord of the gods has bestowed an infallible weapon upon Karṇa with which he will surely slay Arjuna.”
Duryodhana continued praising his forces and deriding the Pāṇḍavas. Naming all the kings on the Kaurava side, he breathed confidence into his father. There was no possibility the Pāṇḍavas could win the war. Dhṛtarāṣṭra could rest at ease.
In conclusion, Duryodhana asked Sañjaya, “With seven akshauhini divisions, what does Yudhiṣṭhira hope to achieve? Does he really think he can overpower us?”
Sañjaya smiled. “Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers are all cheerful. I did not detect any fear in them. Arjuna mounted his heavenly chariot as I was leaving and said, ‘I have seen divine omens foretelling our victory.’ Looking at Arjuna clad in mail and standing on his chariot as lightning sits within a cloud, I saw truth in his words.”
Duryodhana laughed sarcastically. “You are always praising the Pāṇḍavas, whom we defeated at dice. Tell me about Arjuna’s chariot. What sort of horses and banners are attached to it?”
Duryodhana had heard about Arjuna’s divine chariot, given to him by Agni. Its steeds were given by the Gandharva chief, Citraratha. He listened as Sañjaya described it.
“Arjuna’s chariot is of celestial origin and cannot be impeded. It is drawn by white horses which move at the speed of the wind across both earth and sky. Citraratha has granted him a boon that there will always be a hundred horses no matter how many are slain.
“I can barely describe Arjuna’s banner. It was created by Viśvakarmā, and it throws up a celestial illusion. It appears to extend in all directions for eight miles. It is impossible to ascertain of what the banner is made, but it resembles smoke mixed with fire. It has all the colors of Indra’s bow. The terrible monkey Hanumān sits there, as do other celestial beings of terrifying form.”
Sañjaya described the other four Pāṇḍavas’ chariots. When he had finished, Dhṛtarāṣṭra said, “O Sañjaya, which of the Pāṇḍava warriors will contend with which of mine?”
“Dṛṣṭadyumna, born from fire, has reserved Droṇa as his share. His brother Śikhaṇḍī has marked out Bhīṣma, while the pious Yudhiṣṭhira has determined to slay his uncle Śalya. Duryodhana and his hundred brothers will belong to Bhīma. Arjuna has named Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā and Jayadratha. Whoever in this world claims to be invincible, Arjuna will also slay. All of your grandsons, O King, will be met by Abhimanyu. The deceitful Śakuni belongs to Sahadeva, while Nakula will engage with Śakuni’s son Uluka and the hordes of mountain fighters he leads. O leader of men, all the rulers and warriors in your army have been assigned to one or another of the Pāṇḍavas and their followers. Therefore, do quickly what needs to be done, for the battle will soon begin.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra again became fearful. His mind swung between hope and despair. He spoke again, trembling.
“All my foolish sons, who will face Bhīma, have already ceased to exist. The other kings and rulers will all be slain by the Gāṇḍīva bow as moths are killed when they enter fire. I see my army routed by the Pāṇḍavas, whom I have made into my enemies. Yudhiṣṭhira’s forces are like a formidable ocean my son desires to cross with his two arms. Indra himself could not withstand such heroes, who are cool and composed in battle and capable of breaking down the Himālayas. Alas, my wicked son desires to fight them, ignoring my protests.”
Duryodhana rose to his feet. “Both parties are mortals. Why then do you ascribe victory as belonging only to them? Think again about the heroes arrayed on our side. Not even the gods combined could overpower them, what to speak of the puny Pāṇḍavas. O sire, I do not consider the Pāṇḍavas capable of even gazing at our forces. The kings and rulers who wish me well will take hold of the Pāṇḍavas as deer are held in a trap. They will be vanquished along with all of their followers.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat shaking his head. His intelligence told him that the Pāṇḍavas, aided by Kṛṣṇa, could not be defeated, but his heart was held by the strong grip of attachment for his sons. His choked voice echoed around the hall. “See how my son raves like a maniac, Sañjaya. How will he ever defeat Yudhiṣṭhira in battle? Surely Bhīṣma knows the truth about the Pāṇḍavas’ strength since he does not desire to fight with them. Tell us again of their prowess, Sañjaya. Let us be in no doubt of the danger we now face.”
“Among the Pāṇḍavas’ forces, Dṛṣṭadyumna constantly incites them. He said, ‘Go, Sañjaya, and tell the Kauravas their annihilation is imminent. Tell them they can only avert this calamity by sending a pure and honest man to Yudhiṣṭhira to return to him his kingdom. Do not let Arjuna release the fire of his anger at the Kurus. He is protected by the gods in heaven and by the Supreme God Himself. He cannot be slain. O Kurus, do not even think of fighting with him.’”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra cried out, covering his face. “O Duryodhana, my son,” he wailed, “turn your mind from war. One half of this wide kingdom is more than enough for you and your ministers. Return to the Pāṇḍavas that which is theirs. All the Kuru elders see this as the only virtuous path and you should accept it, my child. Apart from you and the small-minded son of a suta, I do not think there are any here who desire war. Led by Karṇa, Dushashana and Śakuni, you are traveling the path to destruction. Come to your senses, dear son. Do not be misled.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s words carried no authority. His plaintive cries were not taken seriously by anyone in the assembly. He had clearly abdicated his power to Duryodhana and would ultimately go along with whatever the prince decided. When Dhṛtarāṣṭra had spoken, Duryodhana stood gazing defiantly around the assembly. He made his decision clear. “I do not depend upon any of the warriors assembled on our side. Karṇa and I alone can perform the sacrifice of war, with Yudhiṣṭhira as the sacrificial beast. My chariot will be the sacrificial platform and my weapons the paraphernalia. My shafts will substitute for kusha grass, while my wide fame will be the clarified butter. We shall perform the sacrifice in honor of the god of death and will come back crowned with a halo of glory. Let the war begin. Either I will rule the wide earth after killing the Pāṇḍavas, or they will enjoy the kingdom after killing me.”
Duryodhana paused in order to add weight to his words. His voice, full of pride and arrogance, reverberated around the assembly hall. “I can sacrifice my life, my wealth, my kingdom, my everything, O King, but I can never live in peace with the Pāṇḍavas. I will not surrender to them even as much land as can be pierced by the point of a needle.”
The hall remained silent after Duryodhana had taken his place on his throne. Bhīṣma and Vidura glanced at each other. Duryodhana’s words did not surprise them. What could they say in reply? Only Dhṛtarāṣṭra could check his son and he was not doing that, despite his pitiful entreaties. He still had given no strong order to return the Pāṇḍavas’ kingdom, nor was he telling anyone else to restrain Duryodhana. It was clear that destiny had ordained war.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra broke the silence. “I grieve for all of you, O rulers, who are following this fool to Death’s abode. I cast off Duryodhana forever. Soon the Pāṇḍavas will move among our forces like tigers through a herd of deer. My army will fall like a helpless woman struck down by a wicked man. Beholding the Pāṇḍavas approaching like moving mountains, you will remember my words. O my sons, if you do not conclude peace now, you will meet with everlasting peace when you are struck by Bhīma’s mace.”
Duryodhana looked at Karṇa and Dushashana. His old father may be terrified by the thought of battle, but he could hardly wait. Alone or assisted by his Dānava-inspired troops, he was ready. No other course was possible.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked Sañjaya to repeat to him what Kṛṣṇa had said. Sañjaya related Kṛṣṇa’s words. After this he described another meeting he had had with both Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna.
“I was invited to see them in Arjuna’s quarters. With my mind fixed on sacred things I entered the innermost apartment in the palace, my head lowered and my hands clasped in prayer. The two great souls, however, put me at my ease. They were seated together on a golden bed bedecked with precious stones. Kṛṣṇa’s feet rested on Arjuna’s lap and Arjuna’s on Kṛṣṇa’s lap. Draupadī and Satyabhāmā sat nearby like two shining moons. Arjuna pointed to a seat. I touched it with my hand and sat next to it on the floor. Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna rose from their place, like a couple of sal trees. Seeing the two black-complexioned heroes towering above me I was seized with fear. They were like Indra and Viṣṇu together. I realized that whoever has them on his side cannot possibly meet defeat.”
Sañjaya closed his eyes as he recalled the sight. He was silent for some moments, then continued in a subdued voice. “After they had reassured me and offered me foods and drink, I placed my clasped hands on my head and told them of your desire for peace. O King, Arjuna then asked Kṛṣṇa to make a suitable reply, whereupon the Yādava leader spoke. His words were charming and mild, but their import was terrible. They were calculated to inspire fear in your sons’ hearts. He said, ‘O Sañjaya, say this before Dhṛtarāṣṭra and all the Kuru elders after offering them our respects and asking after their welfare. Tell them that they should now perform auspicious sacrifices and make numerous gifts to the Brahmins. Then they should make merry with their wives and sons, for they will soon face a calamity. I am thinking of My debt to Draupadī, which is still not paid. That chaste lady purchased Me for all time when she cried out, ‘O Govinda,’ amid the Kurus, who were afflicting her with pain.’”
Tears streamed down Sañjaya’s face as he thought of how Kṛṣṇa gave Himself completely to whomever sought His shelter. “Kṛṣṇa then spoke the following words: ‘The Kurus have made the wielder of the Gāṇḍīva bow, with Me as his second, their enemy. Who would dare challenge us in battle, even if they were assisted by the gods, unless their time had come? He who defeats Arjuna could hold up the earth in his two arms. He could burn up all creatures and destroy the heavens. Among all the beings within the three worlds, I do not see any to equal Arjuna in battle. Surely the fight at the Matsya kingdom was sufficient evidence of that--what to speak of his encounter with the Dānavas in the nether world. Strength, agility, prowess, lightness of hand, untiring energy and patience reside always in Arjuna and in no one else. Consider all this carefully before beginning hostilities, O Kurus.’”
Sañjaya then told the Kurus that Kṛṣṇa planned to come to Hastināpura Himself to encourage peace.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat with his head bowed. He had spent many a long night pondering Arjuna’s power, trying to weigh whether it could be countered by any of the Kuru warriors. It was hard to decide. Now that Arjuna was united in battle with Kṛṣṇa, the odds had shifted dramatically. Kṛṣṇa’s power was impossible to estimate. He was said by the ṛṣis to be the Lord of all divinities. Opposing Him would surely mean opposing the gods themselves.
The blind king spoke out with apprehension. “These descriptions of Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa only convince me all the more of the folly of war. O Duryodhana, think again. Think with whom you will be fighting. Great men always repay their debts. Agni is indebted to Arjuna for his assistance at Khāṇḍava. He will surely help Arjuna in the war. So will the god Dharma align himself with his son, Yudhiṣṭhira. Bhīma is Vāyu’s son and the twins are born of the two Aśvinī gods. Thus it appears that we will be facing a force both human and divine. I cannot see how we can win. Son, make peace with the Pāṇḍavas. If you do not, then the Kurus’ end has come.”
Duryodhana was losing his patience. All this agonizing was too much. The prince jumped up in a rage. “O best of kings, why do you keep praising the Pāṇḍavas? They are mortals like the rest of us. How will the gods come to their assistance? The gods are never impelled by base emotions. It is only by indifference to worldly desires, the absence of avarice, anger and hatred that they have attained their heavenly positions in the first place. They do not get involved in petty human struggles based on emotional attachments. Were this not the case, then how could the Pāṇḍavas have undergone so much suffering? And even if the gods do take their side, so what? I am the equal to any of them. By my own mystic power I can stop fire from burning even if it wishes to consume the three worlds. With incantations I can solidify water, enabling chariots and infantry to march over it. I can break apart mountains and send down showers of rocks accompanied by a gale like that which blows at the time of destruction.”
As he praised himself Duryodhana became increasingly enlivened. He flailed his arms and glared at the kings in the assembly. “You all know that in my kingdom there are no natural calamities caused by gods. Due to my protection, there are not even frightful beasts or snakes to assail my subjects. All the citizens practice virtue and live peacefully under my rule. Neither the gods nor the Asuras would dare protect anyone hated by me. Why did the gods not prevent me from exiling the Pāṇḍavas or from taking their wealth? Whomever I desire to be happy or miserable meets with that end without fail. I am never thwarted in my aims. O monarch, my words will not prove false. I am known in this world as one who speaks the truth. The world witnesses my fame and glory. I say this only to console you and not out of self-praise. You will soon hear of the Pāṇḍavas’ defeat, rest assured. I am superior to them in intelligence, might, prowess, knowledge and ability. I shall destroy them.”
Duryodhana, who was now in the center of the hall, strode back to his seat. Karṇa applauded him and himself stood to speak, disregarding Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who had raised his hand to reply. Karṇa’s voice rang around the assembly. “I will take it upon myself to kill the Pāṇḍavas. I have received the brahmastra from Paraśurāma and the shakti from Indra. With these two weapons I will destroy Pāṇḍu’s sons. All of the other Kurus may stay with Duryodhana to protect him. Leave the Pāṇḍavas to me.”
Bhīṣma laughed loud and long. “What are you saying, Karṇa? Your intelligence has obviously been dulled by death that now approaches you. Remembering the incident of the burning of Khāṇḍava, you should restrain yourself, foolish one. Your shakti weapon, of which you are so proud, will be burned to ashes when Kṛṣṇa’s discus hits it. The Supreme Person has already destroyed enemies far greater than you, Karṇa. Meeting with Him and Arjuna, you and all your weapons will be ruined.”
Bhīṣma reminded Karṇa how he had been cursed by Paraśurāma that, when he most needed it, he would not be able to remember the incantations to invoke the brahmastra. Karṇa had deceived the sage into thinking he was a Brahmin in order to receive his teachings. When Paraśurāma discovered the lie, he uttered this curse. Karṇa would not be able to use the brahmastra weapon when he was faced with imminent danger, and Arjuna would certainly not have the same difficulty.
Karṇa snarled. “Your praise of Kṛṣṇa is proper, O Grandfather. I know Him to be as great--even greater--than you say, but I can no longer tolerate your cruel words toward me. Hear now the result of your harshness. I will not engage in battle as long as you are present. Rather, I will lay down my weapons until you are laid low. Then the world will see my prowess.”
Karṇa stormed out of the hall. Bhīṣma laughed again and turned toward Duryodhana. “The suta’s son is a man who keeps his word. How will he now fulfill his promise to wipe out the enemy troops? In this assembly I heard him say, ‘All of you here shall be the witness. I will again and again kill thousands and tens of thousands of enemy soldiers.’ How will he act upon it now? He is passionate and arrogant. At the very moment he cheated the holy Ṛṣi Paraśurāma he lost all virtue and ascetic merits.”
Duryodhana was perplexed by Karṇa’s sudden departure but, maintaining a straight face, again asserted that he depended on no one. Whether or not Karṇa aided him, he would face the Pāṇḍavas and win. When the prince finally stopped boasting, Vidura rose from his seat and began to tell a story.
“There was once a fowler who set a net in the forest to capture birds. Two large birds were trapped in the net, but they rose up to the sky, carrying the net with them. The fowler saw this and ran after them. As he ran, an ascetic saw him and said, ‘How strange that one who moves by his feet on the earth should run after those who wander in the sky.’ The fowler replied, ‘Those birds united have been able to take my net, but they will fall down when they quarrel.’ Sure enough, before long the two birds began to fight and they dropped to earth where the fowler caught and killed them. In the same way, brothers who fight one another are soon overpowered by death. O Duryodhana, cousin brothers should enjoy life together, eating and sporting but never quarreling.”
Vidura confirmed what had already been said of the Pāṇḍavas’ power, trying to dissuade Duryodhana from war. The prince said nothing. He already knew Vidura’s opinion, and Vidura obviously favored the Pāṇḍavas.
It was clear that the assembly had nothing more to say. Sañjaya had delivered the Pāṇḍavas’ messages and the Kurus had replied. Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s pathetic calls for peace were useless if he did not return even a portion of Yudhiṣṭhira’s kingdom to him. Never once had he indicated that he was willing to do this. Therefore, unless Kṛṣṇa was able to change his mind, there would be war. One by one the kings and ministers left the hall.
At last Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat alone with Sañjaya. Having heard everyone’s opinions publicly expressed, the king now wanted to hear his secretary’s opinion. Did he think there was any chance of the Kurus winning the war? Sañjaya had seen both sides and was able to assess their respective strengths. Although Sañjaya had already stated that he saw little hope for the Kurus, still the king hoped that in private he would give him a clue as to how they might win.
Sañjaya was worried that if he spoke alone to the king his opinion might not be taken seriously. He knew that Dhṛtarāṣṭra felt he was inclined toward Pāṇḍu’s sons. He therefore asked if he could call for Vyāsadeva, who was present at the time in the palace. If Dhṛtarāṣṭra saw that the wise ṛṣi agreed with Sañjaya’s opinion, perhaps he would take it more seriously.
The king agreed and also invited his wife Gāndhārī to be present. When both Vyāsadeva and Gāndhārī had taken their seats near the king, Sañjaya turned to address his spiritual master. “O my lord, please grant me permission to speak to the king in your presence. He has asked about the Pāṇḍavas’ strength.”
Vyāsadeva lifted his right hand in blessing. “O Sañjaya, you should tell him everything about Kṛṣṇa, for He is the Pāṇḍavas’ real power.”
With his hands folded Sañjaya said, “O King, you have again and again asked about the strengths and weaknesses of the Pāṇḍavas. Their strength can be measured simply by measuring that of Govinda, for His strength knows no limits. If the entire world were placed on one side and Janārdana on the other, then He would surpass the world on the point of strength. He can reduce the earth and all its creatures to ashes in a moment. Where there is truth, where there is righteousness and virtue, where there is modesty, and where there is humanity--there you will find Kṛṣṇa. And where there is Kṛṣṇa, there will be victory. He is the soul of all beings come to this world as if in play. The Pāṇḍavas are merely the instruments of His desire. That all-powerful being desires to annihilate all the miscreant and irreligious elements in the world. O King, your sons are such an element.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra reached out for his wife’s hand and held it tightly. Sañjaya went on, “Keśava is the Lord of time, of death, and of moving and non-moving beings. Appearing as an ordinary man by His own illusion, He comes to this world. Those who know Him are not deceived.”
The old monarch was curious to hear more about Kṛṣṇa. He had always known that his secretary accepted Kṛṣṇa as the Supreme Deity. Sañjaya was Vyāsadeva’s disciple, who himself worshipped Kṛṣṇa. The king was not sure. Kṛṣṇa was certainly extraordinary. It was astonishing how He had killed so many powerful demons, and the ṛṣis all extolled Him as the original divinity. Yet He appeared so human. The king asked, “How is it that you accept Kṛṣṇa as the Supreme God? Why do you know Him as such and I do not? Please explain this to me if you feel it is appropriate, Sañjaya.”
“Those who are too attached to matter cannot know that great personality,” Sañjaya replied. “To them He remains a mystery, or they simply do not accept His existence as God. I am not enamored of material things and have kept my desires in check. At the same time, I carefully study the Vedas and faithfully hear from holy men, such as my spiritual master, Vyāsadeva. Thus I have been able to know Keśava in some part. You too may acquire this knowledge, O King. Take shelter of Kṛṣṇa, for He is your best well-wisher. Do not despise Him or His advice. Your foolish son has no faith in Kṛṣṇa and will lead you and the Kurus to destruction.”
Gāndhārī nodded in agreement. “Our wicked-minded son will certainly bring destruction upon us. He is envious and vain and never listens to his elders’ advice. After enhancing the joy of evil men and my grief, he will die at Bhīma’s hands. Only then will he remember his father’s words.”
Vyāsadeva, seated on an elevated seat spread with silk cushions, said, “O King, you are dear to Kṛṣṇa. Listen to my advice. Hear carefully from Sañjaya. He can tell you the path by which Kṛṣṇa can be known and accepted as one’s shelter. Only due to excessive desire and hatred are men denied knowledge of God. Coveting wealth and fame in this world, almost all men are fully absorbed in illusion. Thus they come under the control of death again and again. A wise man therefore gives up all attachments and takes to the path of liberation, which leads ultimately to Kṛṣṇa.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked Sañjaya to describe that path. After bowing before Vyāsadeva, Sañjaya said, “Sense control is the beginning of the path. Performance of sacrifice without sense control will not allow you to know God. Renunciation of sensual desires arises from the awakening of true knowledge, which is born of wisdom. Wisdom is gained by experience and by hearing from the wise. True wisdom means controlling the senses. One with controlled senses will experience pleasure within himself as he proceeds on the path of self-realization. By this path can you attain Keśava, O King. Follow that path with a genuine desire to know and please that most ancient of deities and success will be assured.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra asked his secretary to tell him more about Kṛṣṇa’s attributes and qualities. Sañjaya told him of Kṛṣṇa’s various names and Their different meanings which describe Him as creator, sustainer and, ultimately, destroyer of everything material and spiritual.
After hearing these descriptions Dhṛtarāṣṭra became thoughtful. He dismissed Sañjaya. After Vyāsadeva had also left, he sat alone with his wife. The old king was perplexed. He could not deny Kṛṣṇa’s supremacy. Sañjaya’s descriptions, supported by Vyāsadeva, were lucid and thorough. It was obvious that opposing Kṛṣṇa and those backed by Him was sure to end in defeat. But if it was Kṛṣṇa’s desire that the Kurus be destroyed, then what could he do? It seemed that his actions were all useless in the face of the Lord’s divine plan. Dhṛtarāṣṭra sat sighing and holding his head. Did Kṛṣṇa really desire that his sons, relatives and friends all be annihilated? Why, then, was He coming to Hastināpura to establish peace? It was a mystery the blind monarch could not unravel.
1.45: The Pāṇḍavas Consult Kṛṣṇa
In Virata the Pāṇḍavas received the Kurus’ response: no lands or wealth would be returned. Dhṛtarāṣṭra was pleading for peace, but he wanted to keep his world sovereignty. Duryodhana was his usual obstinate and wrathful self.
Yudhiṣṭhira was not surprised. All that remained now was for Kṛṣṇa to go to Hastināpura, as He had promised. “The time has arrived for You to show Your friendship, O Lord.” Yudhiṣṭhira folded his hands as he addressed Kṛṣṇa. “It is known throughout the world that You are devoted to the welfare of Your friends. Depending upon You we have asked the Kurus to return our kingdom. I do not see anyone other than You who could get us through this difficulty. O Madhava, You are our only shelter.”
Kṛṣṇa was seated slightly lower than Yudhiṣṭhira on a gold throne decked with precious stones. His curling black hair fell around His smiling face. A diamond-encrusted crown shone from His head, and His brilliant, shark-shaped earrings flashed as He turned toward Yudhiṣṭhira. “Here I am,” He replied to the Pāṇḍava. “I am ready to do whatever you ask. What do you want to say?”
Yudhiṣṭhira was moved by Kṛṣṇa’s response. What had he and his brothers done to merit such support from Him? Here was the greatest of all personalities ready to carry their message and act as an envoy for peace. All five brothers gazed intently at Kṛṣṇa’s face and tears pricked their eyes.
“You have heard Sañjaya describe Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s mind and feelings, O Kṛṣṇa. He wants peace without giving us what is ours. That covetous man, partial to his own sons, has a sinful heart. We lived for twelve years in the forest and, at his command, a further miserable year in this kingdom. The Brahmins know that we were true to our promise, but he has reneged on his agreement. Following his foolish son’s advice, he desires to follow a deceitful course. He will not even grant us five villages. He thinks he owns the world. He has no shame. Because of his greed we have been reduced to poverty and are unable to perform our kṣatriya duties. Without wealth it is difficult for us to acquire virtue. Asceticism and begging are not a kṣatriya’s duty, O Kṛṣṇa. We are meant to rule over people and to maintain large treasuries in order to support Brahmins and the needy. Alas, what greater misery is there than for a prosperous man to lose his wealth? Death would be better.”
Yudhiṣṭhira looked at his brothers, who sat in silent agreement. At his command they would have accepted even a village each, but Dhṛtarāṣṭra wanted them to remain beggars. The old monarch’s suggestion was outrageous. It was unthinkable for a powerful kṣatriya to beg. Even their having to beseech the Kurus for their own kingdom was painful and humiliating.
Yudhiṣṭhira continued, “Although it would be a vicious act to take back our kingdom by slaying our relatives, I cannot see any other course. Fighting when the proper time comes is the hard duty of kṣatriyas, but war means suffering for all. Even if we win we will suffer repentance and grieve the death of our relatives and friends. If we lose we will suffer extinction. Yet without a kingdom we are as good as dead. Therefore I ask Dhṛtarāṣṭra to peacefully return to us what is already ours. Failing this, then war is the righteous course of action for us, even though it be fraught with misery.”
Yudhiṣṭhira did not relish the prospect of a war with his elders. According to sacred texts, one should always acquiesce to his superiors in an argument. He asked Kṛṣṇa to clear his doubts. “What is Your opinion, O Keśava? What is the path of virtue that I should now tread? Is it right for us to fight with Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his followers? I doubt he will accept any peaceful approach because he is too attached to his sons. He will simply laugh at our respectful submission.”
“O Dharmarāja, whether or not to fight is not your choice. Rather, the choice belongs to Dhṛtarāṣṭra. For the good of you both I will go there and sue for peace. If peace can be achieved, then I will have done something virtuous and the Kuru and Pāṇḍava armies will be freed from the death trap.”
Yudhiṣṭhira looked doubtful. “It is not my wish that You go to the Kurus, O Kṛṣṇa. Even if You address Duryodhana in a friendly way, he will not listen to You. I am sure he will try to harm You in some way. What will be the use of any of this if some harm befalls You?”
Kṛṣṇa laughed. “I know Duryodhana’s vicious nature, but by going to the Kurus and trying for peace, we will not be censured. No one will be able to say that we did not do everything in our power to avoid war. Do not be afraid for Me. All the earth’s rulers united could not stand before Me in battle when I am angry. If the Kurus insult Me when I desire their good, then I shall consume them.”
“As You wish, O Kṛṣṇa,” Yudhiṣṭhira acceded. “Go to Hastināpura. May all good come from it and may we see You returned in good health with Your object achieved. You are as dear a friend to me as to Arjuna. Relying on Your friendship I am not anxious. You should speak to Duryodhana in a way which will secure peace, even if it means we have to sacrifice virtue. I will accept less than my rightful share, or even play another game of dice if necessary, if war can be averted.”
Yudhiṣṭhira was confident that he would not lose another dice game, having learned the secrets of the game from Vṛṣaparvā in the forest. He was also alluding to the fact that he would peacefully accept just five villages. He was prepared to make any personal sacrifice in order to avoid fighting his relatives and teachers. Yudhiṣṭhira was even beginning to wonder if it may not be better to simply let the Kauravas keep the kingdom. Perhaps he could stay with his brothers in a country belonging to their allies. He was certain both Kṛṣṇa and Drupada would be happy to give them some territory to rule.
Kṛṣṇa’s face assumed a grave expression. “I know well both your intentions and Duryodhana’s intentions. Although you would prefer peace by any means, it is not a kṣatriya’s duty to avoid a righteous fight. Rather, the creator has ordained that a kṣatriya must meet victory or death. He cannot gain his livelihood by gentleness--begging or gathering fruits and roots in the forest. When the time comes, he must show his power rather than retiring in a spirit of humility.”
Yudhiṣṭhira was almost too humble. Kṛṣṇa knew that Duryodhana would only take advantage of his mildness and tolerance if he displayed it. The language of strength and threats was the only way to sway the Kaurava from his sinful aims. It would benefit no one if Duryodhana was allowed to get away with his cruelty and deceit. The world would be deprived of its most virtuous ruler and would be led instead by a man given over to selfishness. Kṛṣṇa reminded Yudhiṣṭhira of the many insults the Kurus had offered the Pāṇḍavas.
“Duryodhana has shown no remorse or shame for having sent you to the forest clad in deerskins. Indeed, he and his brothers spoke harshly at the time. The elder Kurus simply watched as you were cheated of your kingdom in the dice game. Then the evil-minded Dushashana dragged the weeping Draupadī by her hair into the assembly hall.”
Kṛṣṇa’s eyes blazed as he recalled Draupadī’s violation. His stern voice echoed through the hall. “All the kings present shed tears and censured Duryodhana but did nothing. For that act alone he is fit to be killed by anyone, what to speak of yourself. He is blamed and condemned by the Brahmins and all virtuous men. Thus he is as good as dead already. Just as there is no sin attached to killing a serpent, so there is no sin attached to killing him. Those who would follow him into battle also deserve death for supporting one so wicked.”
Kṛṣṇa paused. Yudhiṣṭhira had rarely seen Him so angry. What hope was there for the Kauravas when they had incited Kṛṣṇa to such fury? He seemed about to consume the entire cosmos by His mere glance. Yudhiṣṭhira saw Him looking over at Draupadī, who had been moved to anger as He recalled Dushashana’s terrible act. Tears dropped from her eyes and she breathed heavily as Kṛṣṇa went on speaking.
“By going to Hastināpura I will remove all doubts. Everyone will see your good-heartedness and Duryodhana’s sinfulness. I will remind the Kauravas of all the evils they have perpetrated against you. None shall call you sinful, for you ask for peace. The world will blame the Kurus, headed by Dhṛtarāṣṭra. I will ask for peace without sacrificing your interests, O ruler of men. Hearing their reply and understanding their intentions, I will then return.”
Kṛṣṇa looked around the room. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Him as He turned back to Yudhiṣṭhira and solemnly concluded His speech. “Know that war will certainly result. Duryodhana will not return to you any portion of your prosperous territories. It shall only remain for you to kill he who has already been killed by his own sins. And I shall assist you.”
Yudhiṣṭhira accepted Kṛṣṇa’s speech. He knew that Kṛṣṇa’s acts were always meant for the good of all beings. If He deemed war as necessary, then it could not be avoided--even if it meant killing the esteemed Kuru elders.
Kṛṣṇa wanted to hear from all of the Pāṇḍavas before He left. He looked across at Bhīma. Realizing Kṛṣṇa’s desire, Bhīma said, “I think You should say whatever You can to achieve peace, O Madhusudana.” His voice was amazingly impassive. “But please be careful. Duryodhana is resentful, wrathful, arrogant, and unable to hear good advice. Do not address him in harsh words or he will react violently. Treat him with courtesy. It will be difficult to effect peace, but please try Your best. Still, I foresee the imminent destruction of the Kurus. Even as Kali was born among the Asuras, so has this wicked Duryodhana taken birth among the Kurus. Try to assuage him with mild words, O Kṛṣṇa, or our race will be extinguished. Let there be peace among us, let us avoid the sin of annihilating our relatives, and let us live together as brothers.”
Kṛṣṇa was surprised. Glancing at Yudhiṣṭhira and Arjuna He began to laugh. “O Bhīmasena, your words are like coldness in fire or lightness in the earth.”
Bhīma frowned as Kṛṣṇa went on, “What has brought about this change of heart? Until now you have spoken only words indicative of war. You have spent entire nights sitting with your face bent downwards, breathing hot sighs. Running about and beating the earth, you sometimes appear insane. You spend your time in solitude and nothing can give you delight. Suddenly you will laugh out loud and at other times weep profusely. For long periods you sit with your head between your knees with your eyes closed. All this is the work of wrath. O Bhīma, you have sworn to kill Duryodhana and all his brothers. Why this sudden display of mildness?”
Kṛṣṇa smiled. “Alas, it seems that even the powerful are struck by terror when the time for battle arrives. Surely you are seeing unfavorable omens and so you desire peace. Seized by fear you have become like a eunuch, devoid of manliness. O son of Kuntī, the minds of men are inconstant and easily swayed, like saplings moved by the wind. O hero, be firm. Do not give way to fear. I am totally amazed to see you in this state. Without you, your brothers will sink in an ocean of despair. Think of your noble lineage. You are a kṣatriya and meant to live by your might. This weakness of heart is unbecoming, O Bhīma.”
Like a first-class horse prodded by its rider, Bhīma quickly stood and said loudly, “Do not think my mind has been swayed, O Kṛṣṇa. I am cheerful at the prospect of war. You know this well enough as we have lived together many times. Or perhaps You do not know me, as one swimming in a lake does not know its depths. Thus do You find fault with me. Who, knowing me as Bhīmasena, could possibly have spoken such words? Although it is always condemned to praise oneself, I shall speak of my prowess in order to ease Your mind.”
Bhīma held out his arms, which resembled a pair of elephant trunks. “Who is there who having once entered within the circle of these arms could escape? Even if he were assisted by Indra, the ocean, and the Himavat in person, he would die. If the earth and heavens were to suddenly come against one another in fury like two great mountains, I could hold them apart with my two arms, along with all their movable and immovable creatures. All those who oppose the Pāṇḍavas I will trample under my feet. O Achyuta, although You do not know me now, You will surely know me in the turmoil of battle. Your words pain me like the lancing of an old boil. My strength is even greater than I have described. When the time comes, You and the world will see me cutting down the foremost warriors with their elephants, horses and chariots. I would not be afraid even if the three worlds rushed against me. I spoke only out of mercy, O Kṛṣṇa, and could bear any sort of trouble to avoid annihilating the Bharatas.”
Kṛṣṇa smiled broadly as Bhīma returned to his seat. “Desiring to know your intentions, I spoke only out of affection. I was not finding fault with you because I know you are capable of all you have said and more. I know the greatness of your soul and the strength you possess. My words were only meant to inspire you to be determined. Firm action will soon be required. Without action a man cannot achieve his ends in this world. Although it is the ultimate cause, destiny alone is not sufficient. One who acts with full knowledge of cause and effect, without attachment to the results, can bring about his highest goals. Those who remain idle, either out of ignorance or fear, do not achieve success.”
Kṛṣṇa turned toward Arjuna. “What is your view, O Dhanañjaya? I shall leave at dawn for Hastināpura. Do you have any final thoughts?”
Arjuna had been silently taking everything in. He looked around the great hall. The many kings and Brahmins present looked back at him as he began to speak.
“I think Yudhiṣṭhira has said all that needs to be said, O Janārdana. But it seems to me that You do not see peace as being easily obtained, owing to either Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s avarice or to our weakness. You consider too that man’s desires are useless unless attended by action--that one should not simply depend on destiny.”
Having stated his understanding of Kṛṣṇa’s speech, Arjuna gave his response. “I am in agreement. In my opinion, O Keśava, there is nothing unattainable to one who acts in knowledge. I know You to be the best well-wisher of both ourselves and the Kurus. Whatever You decide to do I will accept. If peace is desired by You, then it shall be so; and if You desire war, then I am ready to fight.”
Arjuna paused. His hand rested on the long sword by his side. Surely he had been born only to wield weapons in combat. He could not honestly see any chance of peace, even with Kṛṣṇa going to Hastināpura. Despite His power, Kṛṣṇa never compelled others to act against their own desires. He would offer them wisdom, present logic and reason, but in the end everything would depend upon Dhṛtarāṣṭra and Duryodhana’s free will. There was nothing to indicate that they would respond favorably. In all probability Kṛṣṇa would return insulted.
Arjuna’s voice rose in anger as he thought about it. “Without doubt the evil-minded Duryodhana deserves to die. He and his brothers cruelly and deceitfully robbed us of our kingdom and insulted the innocent Draupadī. I cannot see him accepting any good counsel. Your words will be like throwing seeds on barren land. If You think he should be destroyed, then do it at once, O Lord, for there is nothing to be considered in this matter. Otherwise, let their be battle! What kṣatriya would turn away from such a fight, even if death stares down upon him?”
Kṛṣṇa nodded slowly. “It is exactly as you say, Arjuna. Peace and war both lie in My hands, but I will not force either. Even the divine agency which causes the results of actions allows men their free choice. Every man must accept the consequences of his own actions. Blinded by attachment, men do not see the final results of their acts, but the divine power always brings about those results. I will convey in full Yudhiṣṭhira’s message to the Kurus. As you say, Arjuna, Yudhiṣṭhira has already said everything that should be said. Duryodhana is likely to be too vicious to accept My advice. He is unable to part with even a tiny piece of land for a brief period. Thus there will be war. You will be required to fight, Bhibatsu. Fix your mind on battle, for whomever you determine to defeat is already vanquished. For My part, I desire to do whatever is good for Dharmarāja. I will always follow the instructions of that pious king, and I will also duly consider Duryodhana’s wicked acts.”
Kṛṣṇa turned toward the twins. Both of them expressed their willingness for battle. Sātyaki also spoke of his determination to fight. There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that war was unavoidable. Duryodhana would simply laugh at Kṛṣṇa.
Draupadī was also seated in the assembly. The talk of peace had alarmed her. For thirteen long years she had waited for the time when Duryodhana and his brothers would receive justice. She wanted the battle to begin at once. Kṛṣṇa’s final peace mission worried her. What if He succeeded? It seemed her husbands--even Bhīma--were ready to accept peace if Kṛṣṇa could somehow secure it without sacrificing their interests. How, then, would she be avenged for her suffering at the Kauravas’ hands? How would her defiled honor be restored? She addressed Kṛṣṇa with anguish in her voice.
“O Achyuta, why are You going to Hastināpura? What do You hope to achieve? Has Duryodhana not made it clear that he will never return Yudhiṣṭhira’s kingdom? Yudhiṣṭhira asked for five small villages, and still the evil one would not agree. Not by peaceful means nor by surrender will we attain our ends. Only by battle will we recover our kingdom. I cannot see any point in Your going there, O Kṛṣṇa, unless it is to annihilate those sinful men. You should not show mercy at this time. It is said that the sin of killing an innocent man accrues to a ruler who fails to kill one who is guilty. Do not let Yourself be touched by sin, O Janārdana.”
Draupadī reminded Kṛṣṇa of the pain she felt in the Kurus’ assembly hall. Her voice was choked. “Shame to Arjuna’s skill in archery, and shame to Bhīma’s strength that Duryodhana still lives for even a moment longer. O Lord, if I am fit to be favored by You, if You feel mercy toward me, then direct the full force of Your wrath on Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons.”
Draupadī rose up from her seat behind the Pāṇḍavas. Taking hold of her ringlets of deep blue hair, she approached Kṛṣṇa. “O lotus-eyed one, this is the hair that Dushashana seized. If Bhīma and Arjuna are so mean as to desire peace, then my old father and his sons will fight for my virtue. So too will my heroic sons, with Abhimanyu at their head, come to avenge me. If I do not see Dushashana’s hand torn from his body, then how can I ever experience peace? For thirteen years my mind has been ablaze with thoughts of revenge. My heart has been rent asunder upon seeing Bhīma inclined toward mildness.”
Draupadī stopped speaking. Hot tears fell on her breasts and she covered her face with her delicate hands. Kṛṣṇa consoled her gently. “Before long, Pāñcālī, you will see the Kauravas’ wives weep as you weep now. Those with whom you are angry are already destroyed along with all their kinsmen and followers. The gods have ordained it. Bhīma, Arjuna, the twins, Yudhiṣṭhira and I will kill them. Do not doubt this. If Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons do not heed My advice, they shall lie upon the bare earth, their bodies food for dogs and jackals. O gentle lady, stop crying. You will soon see your husbands regain their kingdom after killing their enemies.”
Draupadī was pacified by Kṛṣṇa’s words. There was nothing left to be said. It was late afternoon and Yudhiṣṭhira adjourned the assembly. Kṛṣṇa would leave early the next morning. He rose and bowed to Yudhiṣṭhira, leaving the hall like the sun going behind a cloud. The Pāṇḍavas followed Him and gradually the others dispersed, all reflecting upon Kṛṣṇa’s momentous words.
1.46: Kṛṣṇa’s Peace Mission
Just before dawn, bards and Brahmins assembled outside Kṛṣṇa’s bedchamber. They chanted auspicious Vedic hymns as musicians played lutes and drums. Inside the chamber Kṛṣṇa had already risen and was performing His morning rituals. After bathing and worshipping the sun and the sacred fire, He put on yellow silk garments. The palace servants helped adorn Him with numerous gold ornaments studded with priceless gems. As He paid His respects to the Brahmins, giving them cows and gold in charity, Sātyaki entered. Kṛṣṇa greeted him cheerfully and said, “O hero, please prepare My chariot. Equip it with both offensive and defensive weapons. Duryodhana lacks all scruples, and so do Karṇa and Śakuni. An enemy should never be disregarded, even if he is weaker.”
Sātyaki detailed some soldiers to prepare Kṛṣṇa’s chariot. They brought out the car meant for high-speed journeys, which had two great wheels resembling the sun and the moon. It blazed like fire and was decorated with moons and stars as well as figures of sharks, animals, birds, and various kinds of flowers worked in precious stones. The chariot was covered with tigerskins and rows of small bells. A tall flagstaff of lapis-lazuli bore a large dark-blue banner emblazoned with the emblem of Garuḍa. Kṛṣṇa’s four horses, Śaibya, Sugrīva, Meghapushpa, and Balahaka, all clad in mail, were yoked to it with harnesses of jeweled leather.
Kṛṣṇa came out of the palace and mounted the chariot with Sātyaki. His charioteer, Dāruka, urged on the horses and they moved off, being loudly praised by crowds of citizens. Kṛṣṇa saw by the roadside Brahmins offering Him worship while musically chanting sacred Vedic hymns. As He proceeded along the city’s main highway, the sky cleared and a gentle breeze began to blow. The gods, Gandharvas, and celestial ṛṣis assembled in the sky, offering prayers. The Pāṇḍavas and their allies followed the slowly moving chariot on foot. The citizens threw flowers and rice on the road in front of the procession. Conchshells, kettledrums, trumpets, and other instruments sounded on all sides.
When Kṛṣṇa reached the city’s outskirts He dismounted. Yudhiṣṭhira embraced Him, wishing Him success. With tears in his eyes he said, “O Govinda, please go to the pious lady who patiently awaits our return, passing her days in grief--she who is ever attached to the worship of the Supreme Lord, to whom fasts and devotions are second nature, and who is charitably disposed to all beings--please offer her our deepest respects. Alas, when shall I be able to render my mother some good? Please comfort her, O Madhava, and tell her everything about us.”
The last time the Pāṇḍavas had seen Kuntī was when they were going into exile. She had followed them along the road, crying and stumbling in sorrow and pain. Now it seemed they might not see her until after the war, if at all. Each of them sent her a message through Kṛṣṇa.
Yudhiṣṭhira continued, “Please also greet on our behalf our grandfather, Bhīṣma, and our preceptor, Droṇa. The wise Vidura, who has unlimited knowledge, we embrace with affection. Offer all the Kuru elders our respects and love.”
Yudhiṣṭhira gave a final message for Dhṛtarāṣṭra, then he walked respectfully around Kṛṣṇa with his hands folded. After this, Arjuna came forward to say farewell. After embracing Kṛṣṇa he said, “O Govinda, it has been decided that You will demand for us one-half of the kingdom. If Duryodhana refuses, I will certainly annihilate the kṣatriyas. There is no doubt of that. Go now, O Lord, and we shall remain always thinking of You. Everything will be done just as You desire.”
After the Pāṇḍavas had circumambulated Him, Kṛṣṇa climbed back onto His chariot. Spurred on by Dāruka, the horses took off. As the Pāṇḍavas stood watching, Kṛṣṇa’s chariot rapidly disappeared into the distance. A dust cloud rose behind it, and the five brothers stared after Kṛṣṇa until the dust settled and they could no longer see Him.
Sātyaki looked around as they sped toward Hastināpura. He saw various omens, both earthly and celestial. Lightning flashed in the cloudless sky, and behind them showers of rain fell. Rivers flowed backwards and the earth shook. Sātyaki saw water gushing out of wells and fire blazing up on the horizon. The atmosphere darkened and loud roars emanated from the sky, although no beings were visible. Although Sātyaki saw all these terrible signs, the area around the chariot was mild and calm. A cool breeze blew, carrying fragrant lotus petals and drops of water. The road ahead always seemed smooth and free of debris and thorns.
They passed through various provinces and were greeted and praised by thousands of Brahmins. The Brahmins worshipped Kṛṣṇa with offerings of arghya and flowers. Beautifully dressed and ornamented women stood by the roadside, ululating joyfully and throwing flower petals and fresh grains. Kṛṣṇa stopped to greet the people and receive their worship. At the end of His first day’s journey He arrived at Brikasthala, where He spent the night in a spacious house offered by the local people. They brought Him all kinds of food and drink and He offered them blessings. Kṛṣṇa and Sātyaki then took rest on large, comfortable beds, still being praised by the Brahmins.
* * *
As Kṛṣṇa approached Hastināpura, a fierce wind blew up. The city was ravaged. Huge trees were uprooted and buildings smashed. There were also other signs of foreboding. The sky became black and there were repeated crashes of thunder. Vultures and crows wheeled, crying loudly, while jackals howled.
On the day before Kṛṣṇa’s arrival, Dhṛtarāṣṭra called an assembly to discuss how to greet Him. He had been informed of Kṛṣṇa’s arrival at Brikasthala. Thinking of Vidura’s instructions, the old king said, “Kṛṣṇa can fulfill all our desires if we satisfy Him. On Him the world’s course depends. He is the Lord of creation, the source of all power, wisdom and opulence. He is worthy of our respect and worship in every way. Indeed, if we do not respect Him, then misery will ensue. Let us prepare a welcome for Him befitting the gods. By pleasing Him in this way we will obtain the fulfillment of our desires when He arrives.”
Dhṛtarāṣṭra suggested that they offer Him the best of residences, equipped with everything enjoyable. They decided to offer to Him Dushashana’s palace, which was the most opulent in Hastināpura. The king then asked that various kinds of wealth be prepared to offer as gifts. “I wish to present Him with sixteen golden chariots, each drawn by excellent horses of the same color, eight huge elephants with tusks like ploughs, a hundred virgins and the same number of menservants. Thousands of deerskins, costly blankets and silks shall be brought before Kṛṣṇa, along with profuse quantities of gold and gems. Let all my sons, with the exception of Duryodhana, go out to greet Him. The citizens should line the streets and beautiful dancing girls and actors should perform for His pleasure. Decorate the city with flags, festoons and garlands. Sweep all the roads and drench them with scented water. Tomorrow we will declare a festival in honor of Keśava.”
When Dhṛtarāṣṭra stopped, Vidura said, “O King, you are respected in this world as a man of virtue. Old in wisdom and knowing what is right, you desire to please Kṛṣṇa. This is good, but in my opinion you are not properly motivated. You wish to win over the lord of the Yādavas by offering Him wealth, yet you will not accede to His real desire that you surrender even five villages to the Pāṇḍavas. All your ministrations and gifts will prove useless if you do not grant Yudhiṣṭhira his rights. For sure, the all-powerful Govinda will not even cast His eyes upon your wealth. If you really want to please Him, do as He asks. Act as a father should act toward his children. Do not bring about your sons’ destruction by your own foolishness.”
Duryodhana glanced at Śakuni and stood to speak. “What Vidura has said regarding Kṛṣṇa is correct. Kind words and gifts will not separate Him from the Pāṇḍavas’ cause. Therefore, I feel we should not offer Him wealth. Although Kṛṣṇa is worthy of all this worship and more, He will simply see our attempts as a sign of weakness. Our gifts of wealth, while demeaning us, will not sway Him from His determination for war. It may even anger Him.”
Bhīṣma shook his head. “Janārdana will not become angry whether He is properly received or not. We cannot insult Him, nor can we win Him over. Whatever He desires will happen and we cannot check it by any means. Our only course of action is to abide by His wishes. Kṛṣṇa will surely say only what is conducive to the welfare of all beings. We should follow His direction. O King, effect peace with the Pāṇḍavas, for this is Kṛṣṇa’s desire.”
Duryodhana, his eyes smoldering, retorted, “I will never be able to share power with the Pāṇḍavas. I have another idea. When Kṛṣṇa enters this assembly, I will take Him captive. With Him as my prisoner the Yadus, Vrishnis, Pāṇḍavas, and indeed the whole world will be at my disposal. We should think of some means to effect this plan so that He will not suspect anything.”
Duryodhana had already discussed this idea with Śakuni and Karṇa and had already made arrangements, whether or not the court agreed. Taking Kṛṣṇa prisoner seemed to him the best course of action. The Pāṇḍavas would never dare attack them if they were holding Kṛṣṇa.
As Duryodhana made his foolhardy suggestion the kings in the assembly gasped. Dhṛtarāṣṭra was shocked and said angrily, “O child, do not speak in this way. This is against eternal virtue. A messenger should never be violated, what to speak of one such as Kṛṣṇa. He is our relative and is dear to us all. What wrong has He ever done the Kurus? He should certainly not be made captive.”
Bhīṣma’s furious voice then rang out. “Your son is on the verge of eternity, O King. He chooses only evil and never good, although advised by numerous well-wishers. You follow him on his unrighteous path toward certain ruin. He will cease to exist the moment he comes against Kṛṣṇa, who can do anything He desires without the least exertion. I dare not listen to any more words from this sinful person.”
Bhīṣma strode out of the assembly hall in a rage. Dhṛtarāṣṭra then ended the session and everyone left, censuring Duryodhana. His suggestion had gone beyond the bounds of propriety. Surely Dhṛtarāṣṭra would now see the folly of supporting him. As they left the hall the kings and ministers looked at the blind king, who sat in silence. What would he say when Kṛṣṇa arrived the next morning?
* * *
After a pleasant night in Brikasthala, Kṛṣṇa and Sātyaki rose before dawn and began their morning worship. They then left the village at sunrise. In less than two hours their fast-moving chariot approached the outskirts of Hastināpura. Crowds of people lined the roads for miles outside the city, all hoping to see Kṛṣṇa. Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, and the other Kuru elders also came out to greet Him. All of them were beautifully attired and filled with joy to see Kṛṣṇa’s approach. He entered the decorated city, surrounded by the people. Along the roads Kṛṣṇa saw archways and other structures decked with precious gems. From the balconies of the high, white mansions along the road ladies threw fragrant flowers onto His chariot. Many instruments played and the blasts from thousands of conchshells filled the air.
The roads were packed with people, and Kṛṣṇa dismounted from His chariot to pass through their midst. Fifty tall and well-armed soldiers walked ahead of Him to clear a path through the crowds. As He went along the smooth stone road, Kṛṣṇa glanced about on all sides, smiling at the people. Loud shouts of “Hail Govinda!” were heard everywhere. Slowly Kṛṣṇa made His way toward Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s home, consisting of numerous large palaces arranged around spacious gardens. He was led through the inner quarters, passing through a number of gates guarded by young warriors holding bows and spears.
Kṛṣṇa was brought directly to Dhṛtarāṣṭra in the royal court and he immediately honored Him with suitable words of praise. The king received Him with the greatest respect and had Him seated on a jeweled golden throne no less opulent than his own. Two young maidservants stood on either side of the throne, fanning Kṛṣṇa with chamara whisks.
After Kṛṣṇa had been worshipped with the traditional rites of hospitality, He stayed in the court for a short while, exchanging informal and joking words with the Kurus. It was decided that there would be a full assembly the following day when they would hear Kṛṣṇa’s message. Taking Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s permission, Kṛṣṇa then left the court and went to Vidura’s house to see Kuntī.
Vidura was overjoyed to see Kṛṣṇa approaching his home. His eyes flooded with tears and he bowed at Kṛṣṇa’s feet. Kṛṣṇa raised him up by the shoulders and embraced him with affection. Vidura gazed into Kṛṣṇa’s face. “I cannot describe the joy I feel upon seeing You,” he said. “You are the inner soul of all embodied beings. I am honored beyond measure.”
Vidura showed Kṛṣṇa into his home and, along with his wife, worshipped Him with love. He asked after the Pāṇḍavas, and Kṛṣṇa told him all the news from Virata. Vidura was happy to hear that the Pāṇḍavas were well and that they had many allies.
Kṛṣṇa wanted to see Kuntī at once, so Vidura showed Him to her quarters. As He entered her room, Kuntī stood up quickly and ran toward Him. Remembering her sons, she cried aloud. Then she clasped hold of Kṛṣṇa’s neck and shed tears. Kṛṣṇa consoled her and her tears gradually subsided. She brought Kṛṣṇa into the room and sat Him on a large couch spread with white silk. As she offered Him arghya, Kṛṣṇa saw that His aunt had become emaciated through fasting and grieving. In one part of her spacious quarters He saw Brahmins tending a sacrificial fire, their voices carrying through the room as they chanted mantras. A deity form of Viṣṇu stood on a large altar, beautifully dressed and decked with fresh garlands. Incense burned on the altar and its pleasant fragrance filled the room.
Kuntī had not seen Kṛṣṇa since before her sons’ exile. Sitting near Him on the couch she poured out her lamentations, her voice choked with sorrow. “Tell me, how are my sons? O Keśava, those pious boys, even from their childhood, were attached to serving their elders, were humble, kind, and always wished for each others’ welfare. But they were robbed of their kingdom and sent to the forest. How cruel is fate! They have brought wrath and joy under control, are devoted to the Brahmins, and are speakers of truth; yet, abandoning their wealth and opulence, they lived in exile. This has ripped open my heart. How did they live in the forest, O Kṛṣṇa? After living in palaces attended by numerous servants, how did they survive in the wild? Formerly they would sleep on the best of beds in well-appointed rooms. How could they lay down on the bare earth? Alas, my children have suffered too much sorrow. Deprived of their father as young boys, they then had to leave their mother and all their friends and relatives.”
Kuntī lamented at length. She described each of her sons, her voice rising and falling in grief. “Shall I ever see them again?” she cried. “O Achyuta, tell me how Draupadī is faring. She is dearer to me than all my sons. That noble lady preferred her husbands’ company to that of her father and sons. It seems one does not necessarily get happiness as a result of virtue, for she is the most virtuous of all women and yet has had to suffer unbearable misery. When I remember how she was dragged into the assembly my heart feels such agony. Nothing has ever given me greater pain. Dragged by that dishonorable and covetous wretch even as the Kurus looked on, she found no protector other than Vidura. The virtues of the high-souled Vidura are an ornament for this world.”
Kuntī’s choked voice trailed off and she sat weeping for some time. Kṛṣṇa looked compassionately at her tear-streaked face. Even in old age she was still beautiful, her fine features highlighted by her white widow’s silk covering her head. She had not decorated herself since Pāṇḍu’s death, but she still bore a regal splendor and was obviously noble.
Taking several deep breaths, Kuntī regained her composure and went on. “When my sons were born, the gods spoke from the sky. ‘This one will be lord of the world,’ the gods said at Yudhiṣṭhira’s birth. At Arjuna’s birth, the heavenly voice predicted that he would slaughter the Kurus in battle. I do not doubt these prophesies. The time has come for my sons to show their prowess. This is the moment for which kṣatriyas take birth. You should tell Yudhiṣṭhira that his piety is decreasing daily. As long as the sinful Duryodhana and his evil brother, the defiler of Draupadī’s virtue, remain alive and unpunished, he is suffering a decrease of virtue. O Keśava, I do not grieve for the defeat at dice, the loss of the kingdom, or even separation from my sons as much as I grieve for the youthful Draupadī being brought in a single cloth before the Kurus and insulted. How can I experience such grief? With You and the invincible Balarāma as my protectors, as well as Bhīma and Arjuna, it is truly astonishing.”
Kuntī gazed at Kṛṣṇa. She knew who He was--that somehow He had arranged everything. Still, it was difficult to understand. Why had He allowed the chaste Draupadī to be insulted? Why was the wicked Duryodhana allowed to rule the world? Surely there was some divine plan underlying it all, meant for the good of all men. Kuntī remembered a proverb she had often heard from Pāṇḍu: ‘Man proposes, God disposes.’ She had also received instructions from the great Vyāsadeva and other ṛṣis, who had given her a transcendental understanding of the Lord’s nature. The Lord fulfilled men’s desires in accordance with what they deserved. Eventually, all of a man’s acts would bring about appropriate reactions. Although it may seem that a sinful man prospered while a virtuous man suffered, in the end sin always brought ruin while virtue brought success. Kuntī had little doubt. The destruction of the Kurus was imminent.
Kṛṣṇa consoled His grieving aunt. “O Kuntī, what woman is there in this world like you? Born of a noble family, you married a lord of the earth and have given birth to five great heroes. Your sons are like virtue personified. They have controlled sleep, laziness, anger, joy, hunger and thirst. They do not desire any mean pleasures. The happiness belonging to those possessed of true power is all they desire. The greatly powerful seek either extreme happiness or extreme suffering, and they accept nothing mediocre. Either they rule the earth or they practice severe asceticism. Your sons have made this same choice. The time has now come for them to assume rulership of the world. You will soon see them in good health, with all their ends achieved, installed as kings and surrounded by prosperity.”
Kṛṣṇa conveyed to Kuntī all of her sons’ messages. Comforted by His words she replied, “Whatever You think is right and whatever You wish to be done should be done without delay, O Keśava. Surely You are the greatest well-wisher of the world. O chastiser of enemies, I know the truth of Your existence. You are the unlimited Brahman, the original and Supreme Person in whom resides all power and opulence. Everything depends upon You. What You have said must come to pass, for truth itself depends upon You. I bow to You and pray for Your everlasting service. O Govinda, please be gracious to me.”
Kṛṣṇa smiled and spoke a few more consoling words before rising to leave. He walked around Kuntī, offering His aunt the same respect due His mother.
Leaving Kuntī’s quarters, Kṛṣṇa returned to Duryodhana’s palace. Without hindrance He passed through the heavily guarded gateways and came to the vast palace occupied by the Kaurava prince. It was comparable to Indra’s abode, appearing like a mass of clouds and as high as a mountain. The white marble building was decked with countless precious gems and gold engravings. Kṛṣṇa entered and went along the wide corridors, which were decorated with golden images of the gods. He passed through three large divisions of the palace, each designed and decorated in a different mood, and at last reached the central hall. There He found Duryodhana seated amid a thousand kings and warriors. Next to him were Śakuni, Karṇa and Dushashana. They all rose to greet Kṛṣṇa as He entered the hall.
Duryodhana came down from his elevated seat and welcomed Kṛṣṇa warmly. He showed Him to a large throne covered with an exquisite silk carpet and soft white cushions. When Kṛṣṇa was seated he personally worshipped Him and offered Him the traditional gift of a cow. His brothers also came and worshipped Kṛṣṇa, along with the other kings.
When the rites were complete, Duryodhana folded his palms and said, “We are honored, O Govinda. What can we do for You? You may consider this wide kingdom and all our wealth Yours. Please be gracious and accept an invitation to dine with us. We have prepared Dushashana’s palace for Your residence, which is superior even to my own.”
“I will not eat with you, O hero, nor shall I stay in Dushashana’s palace.”
Duryodhana smiled and spoke with forced humility. “Why do You refuse our invitation, O Janārdana? Are we not as dear to You as the Pāṇḍavas? Surely You see both parties equally. Your relationship with Dhṛtarāṣṭra is as close as Your relationship with the Pāṇḍavas. O Madhava, please tell me why You will not accept our hospitality.”
“Only those messengers who have gained their objectives should accept the hospitality offered by those who have received his message.” He raised His long arm and held out His palm toward Duryodhana. “After you have fulfilled My wish, you may entertain both Myself and My followers.”
Struggling to control his anger, Duryodhana replied, “It is not befitting that You treat us so, O Madhusudana. Whether Your objects are achieved or not we are bent upon pleasing You with our hospitality. You have denied us that opportunity with no good reason, O best of men. We feel no enmity toward You and therefore cannot understand why You snub us in this way.”
Kṛṣṇa was grave. “I never abandon virtue from motives of desire, anger, hate or attachment. One should eat another’s food if there is love between them or if he is in distress. O King, you do not please Me and I am not in distress. For no reason you have borne malice toward the Pāṇḍavas from their childhood. Your cousins are virtuous and devoted to the good of all beings. Whoever bears malice for such blameless men bears malice toward Me. He who follows the virtuous follows Me. Know that I am merged in the Pāṇḍavas and cannot be separated from them.”
Kṛṣṇa looked intently, but without anger, at Duryodhana, who frowned. “O Bharata, whoever becomes antagonistic toward a virtuous man, impelled by lust or anger, should be known as the vilest of men. He does not keep his prosperity for long. On the other hand, he who wins over virtuous men with services and kind words, even though they may not be dear to him, gains great renown in the world. Your food is defiled by wickedness. I will not eat it. I prefer instead to stay with Vidura and eat his food.”
Leaving Duryodhana fuming, Kṛṣṇa left the hall and returned to Vidura’s house. All the Kuru elders visited Him there. They each offered Him their own abodes, but Kṛṣṇa thanked them and replied, “I am honored by the offer, but I am content to stay with Vidura.”
Kṛṣṇa and Sātyaki happily ate whatever food was prepared by Vidura’s wife, after first offering a portion to the Brahmins. When the meal was over, Vidura said, “Duryodhana does not much appreciate your visit, O Keśava. That wicked-minded fool transgresses all religious codes. He is incapable of accepting good advice and is bound for destruction. In his opinion he is wise, but he follows nothing other than his own desires. He is an enemy even to his friends. Having abandoned virtue he is fond of untruth and is simply a slave to his senses. He will certainly ignore Your advice.”
As Vidura spoke his wife came into the room and offered Kṛṣṇa herbs and fragrant spices to purify His mouth after eating. She lit incense and took up a chamara whisk to fan Kṛṣṇa. He smiled at her and told her to sit with her husband.
“Duryodhana has full confidence in Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Aśvatthāmā and Jayadratha. With his armies at the ready he does not even think of peace. He thinks the Pāṇḍavas will not be able to even look upon his forces. Lacking all intelligence, he has firmly resolved to return nothing to the Pāṇḍavas.”
Vidura did not like the idea of Kṛṣṇa going into the Kauravas’ assembly. He knew that He would only be insulted and even abused. Although Vidura knew Kṛṣṇa to be beyond insult, out of love he did not want to see it happen. Nor did he want the Kurus to be further blighted by sinful reactions due to their offenses.
“Duryodhana suspects your motives,” Vidura continued, as he pressed Kṛṣṇa’s feet. “He will by no means listen to Your submission. Surrounded by his chariots and elephants, he feels invincible. He now considers the kingdom to be his and his alone. He thinks You are biased toward the Pāṇḍavas. Many of the kings following him are already Your enemies. Out of fear of You they have joined with Duryodhana. All of them are delighted at the prospect of fighting the Pāṇḍavas. How can You go into their midst, O crusher of enemies? Although I know Your true position, power and invincibility, still I cannot see the purpose of Your going there simply to be ignored. I speak only out of love, reverence and friendship. My Lord, what is the use of describing the joy I feel upon seeing You? You are the Supreme Soul and the very life of all beings.”
Kṛṣṇa reached over and clasped Vidura’s hand. “You have spoken with wisdom. You have spoken as a friend should speak to a friend. Your words are conducive to morality and worldly good, like the advice of a father or mother. What you have said is true, but listen to My reasons for coming here. Knowing full well of Duryodhana’s hostility and wickedness, I have come here to do something virtuous. He who liberates these men from the clutches of death will earn great religious merit. The wise have said that if one attempts a virtuous act with all his power but fails, he will still receive the merit of that act. Therefore, with all sincerity I will seek to establish peace. This calamity has its roots in the Kurus, for it has been brought about by Duryodhana and Karṇa.”
Kṛṣṇa rose from his seat and walked slowly across the room, His gold ornaments and jewels glinting in the light of the oil lamps. “If one does not try to save a friend from impending calamity, then he cannot be called a friend. A friend should pull one away from acting improperly even if it means seizing him by the hair. Therefore, it behooves Me to try to dissuade Duryodhana from his purposes. If he disregards Me, at least I will feel that I did all a friend could do. If the fool does not accept My advice, then he will have only himself to blame for the consequences. Nor will men blame Me for having failed to effect peace. If, without sacrificing the Pāṇḍavas’ interests, I can bring about peace between the cousins, then I will have done good to both parties. Otherwise, not even all the rulers of the world can stand against Me any more than small animals can stand against an enraged lion.”
Kṛṣṇa spoke with Vidura through most of the night. They rested briefly. Then as dawn approached, bards assembled outside Vidura’s house and recited hymns from the Sāmaveda to the accompaniment of cymbals, drums and conchshells. Kṛṣṇa rose immediately upon hearing the sound. He performed His morning ablutions and went through His usual morning rituals, chanting incantations to the fire-god and worshipping the sun as it rose. Even as He performed His morning devotions, Duryodhana and Śakuni came to see Him. With folded palms they informed Him that Dhṛtarāṣṭra and the other Kurus were in the assembly hall. “They are awaiting You even as the gods in heaven await Indra.”
Kṛṣṇa replied that He would soon be ready, and Duryodhana said he would wait outside. After he and Śakuni had gone, Kṛṣṇa distributed charity to the Brahmins from the many chariots filled with riches He had brought with Him to distribute. He gave gold, gems, and fine cloth to numerous Brahmins, then prepared Himself to go to the Kuru assembly. Dāruka fetched His chariot and it approached Vidura’s house with a deep rumble. After circumambulating the sacred fire and the Brahmins, Kṛṣṇa left the house.
Kṛṣṇa, Sātyaki and Vidura mounted the chariot and it moved off. Duryodhana and Śakuni followed in their own chariot. Behind them came Kṛtavarmā and other great warriors, some on chariots and others on elephants. Brahmins went on foot, chanting auspicious prayers, and musicians played their instruments. Thousands of young warriors came behind them, dressed in armor and carrying swords, lances and axes. The streets were packed with citizens, all hoping to catch a glance of the famous Kṛṣṇa. Balconies were crowded with women, who gazed down on Kṛṣṇa’s chariot as it passed. They filled the air with a continuous stream of many-colored flower petals.
(Continued ...)
(My humble salutations to the lotus feet of Brahmasree Krishna Dharma and Bramhasree Manmatha Dutt and I am most grateful to Swamyjis, Philosophic Scholars and Ascetic Org. for the collection of this great and wornderful Epic of the world. )
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