THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (15 page)

Duryodhana was on his feet. He glared at Krishna for a moment, then, contemptuously, at the others. Without another word, but a hiss like an angry cobra’s, he stalked out of the court. In a moment, all his brothers, advisors and the kings who were his allies also left. The sabha was almost empty.

Bheeshma watched his grandson’s arrogant exit, sadly, knowing its full significance. However, he also felt a sense of relief, as if a long and heavy burden had been taken from him. The worst he had feared, the unthinkable, had happened; now there was no looking back. Bheeshma, who had served the House of Kuru for so long, felt his own end drawn near. At last, he felt perfectly helpless and almost glad of it.

He turned to Krishna with a sigh, “I have done everything I could to prevent this, but I see that I have outlived my usefulness. The hour of reckoning is here. Duryodhana is past saving. Doom has finally come to the House of Kuru; ah, Krishna, a sea of blood will flow. In all my life, I have never had such prescience of tragedy as I do now. Not just the Kurus but kshatriya kind will perish in the war that is upon us.”

He stared quizzically at dark Krishna, sensing the Avatara knew immeasurably more of what he, Bheeshma, prophesied than he did himself. Yes, Krishna knew all about why the apocalyptic war must be fought; he had come to the earth to wash it with just this enormous bloodletting. Krishna stared gravely back at the tired old kshatriya.

Bheeshma sighed again and murmured, “Yes, the time is ripe, I can feel it in every cell of my body. The war will be the end of the world, as we have known it and the beginning of an inconceivably different age. Am I right, O Krishna who know all things?”

Krishna said, “I blame all of you for what will happen. You could have nipped this evil bloom in its bud. Instead, you nurtured it carefully and helped it grow until it chokes us all. If you could not kill him, why didn’t you lock Duryodhana away in the darkest dungeon? Are you so blinded by filial love that you still do not see who this prince is? He is a monster, a demon born into the world for its destruction. But there is one final hope I offer you, O elders of Hastinapura. Listen to me, I do not speak idly.

When my uncle Kamsa was a tyrant in Mathura, I killed him though he was my own blood. Since the world was young, the wise have said that one man may be sacrificed if he threatens the welfare of the family; one family, if it threatens the village; one village, if it threatens the kingdom; and the very kingdom if one’s immortal soul is imperiled.

I ask you to undo the evil you have nourished in this sabha. The method is simple, if drastic; but consider how much less drastic than the war you plan. Four men stand between the very earth and peace; you must sacrifice them. Bind Duryodhana, Dusasana, Karna and Shakuni and make them over to the Pandavas. Listen to me, O elders and save kshatriya kind.”

It was as if the Avatara tried fate. He still doubted the savage mission for which he had been born and sought any means to avoid the war he knew must, ineluctably, be fought. Dhritarashtra grew very still at what Krishna said. He turned to Vidura, “Go and fetch Gandhari. She is the only one who might still turn our son back to dharma.”

Poised and regal, her eyes bound as always, Gandhari came into the sabha. She allowed Vidura to lead her by the hand before the king. The Kuru queen said, “My lord, you have summoned me to the sabha today. What is the matter?”

“Duryodhana walked out of this sabha, insulting Krishna and all the elders. He will not listen to anyone, but is determined to have war with the Pandavas. He wants to ruin us all.”

For a moment, Gandhari stood silent before her husband. Then she said, “My lord Vidura, fetch Duryodhana back; say his mother calls him here.”

When Vidura had gone, she turned to Dhritarashtra again. “I prayed the day would never come when I had to say this to you: this kingdom does not deserve to be ruled by an evil prince like my son. It breaks my heart to say it, but he has plunged us all into the depths of hell. And you, my lord, are most to blame. I begged you not to give such absolute power into Duryodhana’s hands; but you are a doting father and you would not listen to me. You have made him king in your place, while you still live. More, you have walked down the path of sin with him, willingly. Even now, only your fear turns you back.

Dhritarashtra, you are the king of such a great kingdom. If he cares for them at all, does a good king make a prince like Duryodhana a virtual ruler of his people? Just think, wouldn’t they rather have Yudhishtira as their sovereign? Wouldn’t they have profited richly from it, wouldn’t we all? Instead…” she broke off, as they heard Duryodhana’s angry tread in the sabha. Gandhari turned, “Duryodhana, is that you?”

“Yes, mother, it is I. What do you want with me?” His voice was stiff with annoyance.

“I am your mother and all I can ever want is for you to be safe and happy. My son, it is neither easy nor pleasant to be the king of a great country. A man must first be a master of himself, before he can rule a kingdom. Otherwise, he will drag both his people and himself into ruin. How can anyone who has not conquered himself dream of conquering his enemies? Duryodhana, a man’s worst enemies are within himself: his weaknesses. They derange his mind and he sees enemies all around him; while, in truth, he himself is his only enemy.”

The mother held her hands out to her son. She said, “Don’t you trust me, Duryodhana? This is I who speak, that love you most. But I will not lie to you or encourage you, when you rush toward your death.”

Duryodhana made no move to take her outstretched hands. She sighed, let her arms fall to her sides again and said with deep sorrow, “My son, it is time you heard what I am about to tell you. On the night you were born, omens of evil besieged this city in warning. The feral creatures of darkness flocked into our streets. Jackals and wolves howled at us and vultures and swarms of bats wheeled across the face of the moon. Peals of thunder shook heaven and earth and gashes of lightning flared not from the sky to the earth, but from the earth up into the heavens. In many places, it rained blood.

That night Vidura said the child born to us would cause the end of the world, as we knew it. But I could not imagine my son would be evil. How could he, when I had always kept dharma? Alas, I was wrong and the omens were true.”

Her son stood before her, made of ice. As she described that longago night, a smile flickered on his lips. He said nothing.

Gandhari begged him, “My child, abandon the thought of war. You have no right to put the lives of millions in jeopardy for the sake of your greed and your hatred. I know you think that Pitama Bheeshma, Acharya Drona and your Karna will vanquish the Pandavas. But your cousins have an ally who is greater than all these men, greater than the Gods, even. Dharma is with them.

Then, Krishna is with the Pandavas and Arjuna is one of them. These two, alone, can subdue Indra’s Devas and all the Asuras in patala. Don’t you know who they are? They are Nara Narayana. But how would you know that? You are so full of yourself and your own darkness. Duryodhana, if you won’t listen to anyone else, at least you will not ignore what I am saying to you. You cannot fight dharma, my son. Dharma is eternal. You, your brothers and everyone who fights for you will die.” A sob shook her. Her voice dropping to a whisper, she said, “And the earth shall be made pure again.”

Gandhari broke down and wept. Her son still stood with the same mocking smile on his lips. When his mother had finished, he did not say a word to answer her. He turned on his heel and, without a glance at anyone in the sabha, Duryodhana walked out again.

FIFTEEN
‘I AM NOT ALONE’ 

Duryodhana stormed back to his apartment, where Dusasana, Shakuni and Karna waited for him. He was shaking with anger.

“They will do anything, Dusasana. They brought Gandhari into the sabha to tell me to mend my ways! Can you imagine how I felt? Like a small boy being scolded by his mother in the Kuru court. And Krishna sat there with that maddening smile on his face.”

He swept a priceless crystal decanter of wine off a table. It smashed into shimmering dust on the black marble floor. Now he raged aloud, “Enough sanctimonious counsel! From Pitama, from my father, from Drona, from Vidura, from Krishna and now from my mother. I want to be left alone! Is any man perfect, that he lives his life just by dharma? What about Krishna? Is he so perfect? The world knows how many women he keeps in Dwaraka. He never hesitated to kill anyone who stood in his way, by any means he could, with weapons or guile.

He knows that life is not black or white; and neither are we. Men have never been like that. They have never done what they should, but what they wanted to. That is life! That is destiny. Always, there have been those too afraid to act, who tried to stop those who were bold enough to take what they wanted: to stop them with talk of dharma! You should hear my father now and, of all men, Krishna preaches to me. The hypocrite! I have had enough of the lot of them.”

Dusasana looked anxious. “If they brought our mother to speak to you, they will stop at nothing. Next thing, they will bind the four of us and hand us over to Yudhishtira. And the king will not stop them, any more. It would be the simplest solution; it is only we four who oppose their cowardly peace.”

Duryodhana was startled at the thought. Then, a slow smile spread on his face. “Krishna is as dear to our cousins as their breath; without him, they are nothing. And we, also, have much to learn from this dark lion Krishna.”

“What do you mean?”

“Krishna tells our elders to deliver us to the Pandavas, so there might be peace. What if we follow his advice? Take Krishna captive before anyone moves against us! And keep him here in Hastinapura as our hostage. I know how much the Pandavas love this black cowherd, whom the world calls the Avatara. If we take him hostage, it will break their spirits. If we hold Krishna, they will agree to anything, even to the peace everyone wants. They will agree to peace on my terms.”

Dusasana said, “We must strike first and victory shall be ours!”

But just they four could not hope to hold Krishna. Some others were taken into confidence and a conspiracy hatched. Inevitably, word of the plot leaked out. Satyaki heard of it and stormed into the Kuru sabha where Krishna sat with the elders of Hastinapura.

“Duryodhana plans to take Krishna hostage! Dhritarashtra, your son has lost his mind.”

Vidura jumped up in shock. “Now we are doomed! Krishna, you must leave at once. We don’t know who all are with Duryodhana in this treachery.”

Krishna was not surprised or agitated. Mildly, he said, “It will not be easy to take me.”

Dhritarashtra was panicstricken. “Fetch Duryodhana here at once.”

Duryodhana stalked tensely back into the court. “Father, you sent for me.”

“Sinful child!” wailed Dhritarashtra. “Evil as you are, I didn’t dream you would stoop to this.”

“What do you mean, my lord?”

“You dare even think of taking Krishna a hostage? This greatest of men, the Avatara? Duryodhana, I knew you were vain and foolish, but I never realized you were mad. The Devas and all the rishis in heaven, together, could not do what you are planning to. Idiot child, can you hold the wind in the palm of your hand? Can you take the sun a prisoner, or carry the earth in your arms? Why, these things are easier than making this man your prisoner.”

Duryodhana stood defiantly before his father. Krishna said softly, “Duryodhana, you think I am here by myself. But look, I am not alone.”

As he spoke, the sabha filled with a thousand presences. Krishna said again, “Look, Duryodhana, I am not alone.”

Duryodhana saw the hosts of heaven and earth crowding his father’s court at dark Krishna’s word. He saw the Pandavas in armor, their weapons in their hands. He saw the brilliant Vrishnis of Dwaraka and Mathura. The Andhakas he saw and all the Yadava warriors, while Krishna said, “Yes, they are all here with me.”

They saw the iridescent Adityas in that sabha and the eight Vasus. Then, Krishna began to shine like lightning, so they could not bear the effulgence of him. From his blinding body emerged the Devas, one by one and they were lucific, but pale beside the one they had issued from. They were dull beside the Cosmic Person Krishna had become and as small as his thumb.

The court in Hastinapura, dwindled to nothingness, saw Brahma, four-faced, on Krishna’s brow. On his chest, spanning infinite space, they saw the eleven terrific Rudras, masters of ages and galaxies. On the Avatara’s shoulders, they saw the guardians of the quarters, the Kshetrapalas Indra, Varuna, Kubera and Yama. Agni blazed from his fanged mouth. The Adityas, the Vasus, the Maruts and Devas were all contained in him and his tremendous laughter rang through the sabha of Hastinapura, through heaven and earth and all the yawning kalpas. Duryodhana fell on his knees, his eyes shut and his hands clamped over his ears. Still, he saw and heard everything, helplessly.

Krishna laughed. Now, in the palm of his left hand, bright as the first light from which the universe was made, stood the Yadava army with Balarama at its head. On the Blue One’s right palm stood Arjuna, the Gandiva in his hand, the Pandava legions behind him and Bheema, Yudhishtira, Nakula and Sahadeva at his side.

But these were just two hands of a thousand arms. Others held starry weapons, ayudhas that could extinguish constellations. He wielded the mace Kaumodaki, the sword Nandana, both spewing fires like sun-flares, the legendary bow Saringa; and, above another forefinger, wheeling silent and nitid, a sun compressed: the Sudarshana Chakra!