THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (48 page)

How well each one knows the other’s mind; how perfectly they anticipate every shaft. But they are not master and pupil any more: Arjuna is more than his Acharya’s equal. The Pandava breaks Drona’s bow; before the pieces fall to the chariot-floor, the master has another one out.

For an hour, they duel; and at first, one has a slender advantage, then the other. They fight at the farthest reaches of their genius, until abruptly Krishna cries, “It isn’t Drona you have sworn to kill before the sun sets. Time flits by and every moment is precious. Leave the brahmana here, we must break into the vyuha!”

Krishna swerves his horses away; he drives them round Drona’s chariot in a pradakshina. Smiling, Arjuna cries to the Acharya, “My lord, I must leave you!”

Drona roars, “What is this, Arjuna? You ride away from an enemy without beating him? You have never done this before.”

Flashing away to storm the padma vyuha, Arjuna calls back, “You are not my enemy, but my guru! Bless me, that I succeed.”

The words are borne to Drona on the wind. For the time he has lost fighting his master, arrows flare thicker than ever from the Pandava’s bow and Kaurava soldiers fall before him in lurid waves and a swell of mortal screams. At Arjuna’s wheels, guarding his rear and flanks, ride the Panchala brothers, Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas, as they have since the war began. Kritavarman comes to challenge Arjuna and with him Sudakshina, lord of the Kambhojas and Srutayus. Their arrows darken the sky. But those shafts themselves are livid and illumine dim Kurukshetra like strange lamps, flying.

Drona swirls round at the mouth of the lotus and rides after Arjuna. His careful plans foiled by the Pandava breezing past him, the master dashes after his disciple in anger. The gifted Kritavarman holds Arjuna up and it seems that Arjuna hesitates to unleash his fiercer missiles at the Yadava. Krishna cries, “He is one of the six that murdered your child! Don’t stay your hand because he is my cousin. He is a traitor and deserves to die.”

No sooner has he spoken, than Kritavarman is struck down with ten sizzling shafts that break his bow and smash through his armor, so he falls screaming. His sarathy flies from the field with his bleeding kshatriya. After Kritavarman departs, Sudakshina cannot resist Arjuna for more than a few moments. The Pandava sweeps him aside and plunges on deeper into the vyuha. A better warrior than Sudakshina looms in his path: Srutayudha who wields Varuna’s mace. The mace is a magical weapon and no one can kill Srutayudha as long as he carries it. When he casts it at an enemy, it divides itself into a hundred maces and strikes like a flock of thunderbolts; and then, it flies back to his hand. But Varuna had said to Srutayudha he must never cast the mace at anyone who bore no arms, for then it would turn on the one who cast it.

Srutayudha harries Arjuna with the Sea God’s mace, but finds he can never strike the Pandava because of Krishna’s lightning maneuvers in the gandharva chariot. Forgetting that the sarathy carries no weapon, Srutayudha flings the mace at Krishna. The occult gada takes Krishna in his chest, but softly as flowers. With a roar of its own, in anger that it has been cast at an unarmed man, the ocean mace flashes back at Srutayudha and smashes his head like a peach. As soon as he falls, Varuna’s weapon vanishes from Kurukshetra; it returns to the Lord of tides.

Seeing Srutayudha die, Sudakshina turns back into battle against Arjuna. But the duel lasts just moments and the Pandava kills the lord of the Kambhojas with an arrow through his heart. Panic takes the Kaurava army. Drona roars above the pandemonium to his legions, to surround Arjuna, they must not let him move ahead. But who can stand before the Pandava today? Drona rushes forward himself, covering Arjuna in a fever of arrows. Arjuna burns them all up with a brahmastra and they fall away as ashes. Fifty thousand footsoldiers run at Arjuna’s chariot. But he is dauntless; he is implacable, as he cuts a way of fire before him with unearthly missiles, parting the dark tide of men in streams of blood.

On through the incarnadine mire the golden chariot ploughs, as if no army stood in its way. Until, two heroic brothers challenge the Pandava: Srutayus and Achutayus, dead Sudakshina’s friends, who have rashly sworn to avenge him. They fly unexpectedly at Arjuna from two sides and Srutayus strikes Krishna unconscious. When the Pandava’s chariot lurches to a stop, Achutayus casts a javelin at Arjuna, a lance like a green star and strikes him deep in his side. A roar goes up from the Kaurava army as Arjuna reels and the Gandiva slips from his hand. The Pandava totters against his flagstaff.

“Arjuna is slain!” cry the Kaurava soldiers.

But in their excitement, they don’t press home their brief advantage quickly enough. With a cry, Krishna recovers, seizes the reins again and veers away from Srutayus’ ominous fire. By Krishna’s grace, Arjuna’s wound is stanched and the jade lance falls out. Quicker than thinking, the Pandava invokes the aindrastra to quell the thousand arrows that flare at him from every side. With another shaft of power, he cuts down the two brothers on either side of him. A single arrow, which severs Sru-tayus’ head, flies on in uncanny trajectory and crashes into Achutayus’ heart.

Seeing four of their kshatriyas die in moments, the common Kaurava soldiers run in panic from Arjuna. The padma vyuha is breached and every instant the golden chariot flies nearer its quarry, hidden fearfully in the needle’s eye.

FIFTEEN
AT THE RIM OF THE RED LOTUS 

Beside himself to see Arjuna storm into the padma vyuha, Duryodhana rides wildly up to Drona. He cries at his Acharya, “Arjuna smashes through your legions as if they are not there at all! Your shakata vyuha fell apart at his first charge and he has broken into your lotus as if it is made of petals, not soldiers. We do everything in our power to please you, Acharya, but you betray our cause. Your heart is not with me, but with the Pandavas. You stood at the vyuha’s rim and I know that no one could pass you unless you let them.”

Drona begins to speak, but Duryodhana rages, “My lord, the deadliest enemy is the one you have taken to your heart in trust. He is like a knife hidden in a pot of honey. I believed you, Drona, when you said Jayadratha would be safe. But look how Arjuna flies at him like a naracha. Why sunset, Jay-adratha will die before noon.

I should have let him ride home; he would have been safer in his own country. I have sacrificed my brother-in-law to Yama; why, he would be safer facing Yama than Arjuna, if my cousin reaches him. You must stop him, Drona. You are this army’s Senapati!”

Stung, Drona replies, “You saw me try, but he is as quick as the mind. I am old, Duryodhana, past my prime. Most warriors I can still contain; but this is Arjuna, there is no one like him. And then his horses are gandharva steeds, Krishna is his sarathy!

But I could keep another vow today. With Arjuna away, I could take Yudhishtira. Let a younger man pursue Arjuna: none better than you, Duryodhana. It will hearten your men to see you lead them from the front; and you can avenge your four friends he killed.”

Duryodhana’s face turns darker. “Do you mock me, Acharya? That you send me after a kshatriya who swept past you so easily. How can I stop him when the great Drona could not? You saw him strike Kritavarman down. You stood at the lip of your vyuha, like Siva with his Pinaka. But even as you watched him, he killed Srutayudha, Srutayus, Achutayus and Sudakshina, as if they were children. And you ask me to ride after Arjuna? Acharya, you are our only hope, everything depends on you. You must save us today!”

A smile softens Drona’s face. “You are like my own son, Duryodhana, I wouldn’t send you to your death. Look, I have this armor I have kept just for you.” He shows Duryodhana that mail, like treasure in his hands. Duryodhana gasps. “This is Brahma’s own kavacha, its links are ancient mantras and not even the devastras can pierce it. Indra wore this armor when he fought Vritrasura. Come, let me help you put it on.”

Duryodhana climbs down from his chariot and allows Drona to wrap him in Brahma’s golden mail. Wearing it, he feels a surge of magic in his blood. He kneels before his guru for his blessing. Laughing, Drona blesses him. Duryodhana says, “Forgive me for what I said rashly to you.”

“Even as a father forgives his son,” replies Drona. “Now go like the wind and you will beat Arjuna today!”

As if Brahma’s armor touched him with unworldly courage, Duryodhana rides roaring after the Pandava. Seeing their king fly to the rescue, the Kaurava soldiers stream back into battle. This is at the very heart of the red lotus.

Meanwhile, only Arjuna and Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas at his chariot-wheels have broken into the padma vyuha. Drona turns back to the rim of the lotus, where Dhrishtadyumna and the Pandava army storm the phalanx that Arjuna has breached. The two armies meet like the golden Ganga and the midnight-blue Yamuna flowing into each other during a flood. But Drona fights as if for his life and the Pandava legions can make no headway against him. The brahmana’s astras light up Kurukshetra, they consume Yudhishtira’s legions and, inexorably, Drona forges nearer Yudhishtira himself.

Duryodhana’s brothers fight beside their Senapati. Bheema and his brothers face Vivimsati, Chi-trasena and Vikarna. Vinda and Anuvinda face Virata and Shalya confronts Yudhishtira. Dusasana and Satyaki battle, Shakuni meets Madri’s twins. Shikhandi and Baahlika fight, while Ghatotkacha and Alambusa lock again in a vicious mayic duel. Far away, beyond Arjuna forging on alone through the padma vyuha, Aswatthama and Karna stand guard over Jayadratha, with Bhoorisravas and his army, Kripa, Sala and Durjaya.

Baahlika and Dhrishtadyumna duel briefly, then Draupadi’s sons stream forward, an army by themselves and their battle with Baahlika is like the war of the five senses against the mind! Satyaki and Dusasana light the air between them with igneous shafts that extinguish each other in flight. But Dusasana fights in inspiration today and finds his mark with a blinding arrow that strikes Satyaki unconscious in his chariot. The Yadava’s sarathy rides away from battle, until his warrior recovers. Satyaki is up in a moment, flaming back at Dusasana.

Dhrishtadyumna rides at Drona and a refulgent duel breaks out. Duryodhana’s sharpness has stung his Acharya deeply and he fights beyond himself now: to reach Yudhishtira at any cost. The old master overwhelms Dhrishtadyumna. He smashes his chariot, kills the horses and sarathy of his old enemy’s son. Growling, Dhrishtadyumna seizes up a sword and leaps on to Drona’s horses. Nimble as the wind he runs along their backs at his master. This is not less than deliverance for the brahmana: the man born to kill him makes an absurdly easy target.

Drona raises his bow, with an astra that will blow the fire-prince to pieces at such short range. He draws back his bowstring and for a moment that lasts a life, Dhrishtadyumna sees death face to face. He springs forward along the horses’ backs, knowing he cannot reach Drona before the Acharya’s arrow blasts him to bits. For an eternity, Drona’s bowstring remains drawn back and with hallucinatory clarity, Dhrishtadyumna sees every detail of the master’s powerful hand, his fingers, the rings on them, the deep wrinkles on his face, the smile on his lips, every hair in his beard, the look almost of surprise in his eyes that the kshatriya born to kill him makes such a rash gift of his own life. All this is emblazoned on Dhrishtadyumna’s mind.

For another eternity, Drona’s hand remains, quivering, where it has pulled back his bowstring. Dhrishtadyumna wants to shut his eyes but finds he cannot. Then, he hears a noise deafening the huge silence that has fallen over his world: the sound of an arrow cleaving the air, loud as a tempest. Dhrishtadyumna waits in that awful moment for the shaft to tear his chest open. Instead, he sees a flicker of shock in Drona’s eyes. He sees the tremor that passes through the master’s hand. He sees his bowstring sag and its arrow drop on to the chariot floor. He hears its clatter mingle with the swish of Satyaki’s timely barb humming past after it severs Drona’s bowstring, saving Dhrishtadyumna’s life.

Drupada’s son still stands petrified, but Satyaki flashes up, sweeps his friend out of his daze and into his chariot before Drona can recover. With a feral roar at being done out of his priceless prey, whose life he held in the palm of his hand for that moment, Drona seizes up another bow and covers the dashing Satyaki in a swath of arrows. But the Yadava in his fleeting chariot fights like his master, Arjuna, today. Quick as light, he breaks Drona’s bowstring again; and while the furious brahmana reaches for another weapon, Satyaki strikes him deep with darts like fire.

Drona cries to his sarathy, “Ride at Yudhishtira! It is him we must take today.”

But Satyaki cries to his charioteer, “The brahmana who takes up arms is more terrible than any kshatriya. For his pride is great and his mind is subtle. Drona is the heart of the Kaurava army. Ride at him, friend, fly between him and Yudhishtira!”

In a steep swirl, Satyaki confronts Drona again. Drona attacks the Yadava in wrath, meaning to kill him now. But Arjuna’s pupil fights back magnificently and the war pauses around them to watch their duel. Drona mutters to himself, between burning shafts, “He fights like Bheeshma or Arjuna, like Bhargava or Karttikeya. Arjuna’s sishya is his guru’s peer!”

Twice more, Satyaki breaks Drona’s bow in his hand. The Acharya’s face is red. He looses an agneyastra, of a hundred billowing flames, to consume Satyaki, his chariot and all. The raging weapon, used commonly against a whole legion, flares at the Yadava in flash-fire. A lesser kshatriya may have panicked to see that inferno. But serene Satyaki, poised, quicksilver Satyaki has learned well from his master. He invokes a varunastra of the Lord of the sea and douses Drona’s fireball in a crested blue wave, tall as a hill.