THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (85 page)

They make a pyre of sandalwood on Kurukshetra. Yudhishtira and Vidura wrap Bheeshma’s body in cerements of silk, they cover him with flowers. In a solemn procession, the Pandavas bring their Pitama on his final journey, while Yuyutsu holds the sovereign white parasol over him. They lift the Kuru patriarch on to the fragrant pyre, around him they lay the hundred arrows that brought him down. The brahmanas and munis all chant the Sama hymns and Dhritarashtra touches Devavrata’s pyre alight with a burning branch. Yudhishtira, his brothers, Vidura and Dhritarashtra stand to the right of the blazing sandalwood. All of them cry, as flames clasp the greatest man who ever lived, make ashes of his body.

Early the next morning, they collect Bheeshma’s remains, bones the fire spared and ashes and come to the Ganga. As they offer tarpana to the departed one, suddenly the river stops flowing! Ganga rises from her waters, lamenting.

She says to the other mourners, “My child is dead and there was no one like him in all the world. He was a devoted son. He was invincible; even Bhargava could not vanquish him. Today, you have come to float his ashes down my currents, for Shikhandi, who was not even a man, killed my child. Oh Devavrata, all my hopes for you have been proved vain. I thought you would be king of the earth and now look what is left to me.”

She sobs inconsolably, as the others watch in some awe. Then Krishna goes to her and says, “Don’t cry for your son, mother of the world. You know he was your child only briefly. You know who Bheeshma was before he was cursed to a mortal life. He was not merely a man and he could not be merely a king like one. He was not just a kshatriya; he could not be killed like one. The time of Bheeshma’s curse has ended and he has returned to his kingdom in Devaloka, where he sits on a loftier throne than any of this earth. Your son is a Deva and he is with the Devas again. Rejoice, Mother Ganga, that at last your Devavrata is free.”

Shimmering Ganga bows gravely to Krishna. Her eyes still tear-laden, she vanishes. When they look at the golden river, they see that she flows again, as she has since the world began. Now, standing in the water after offering tarpana to his dead Pitama, Yudhishtira breaks down. Sobs shake him and he staggers out from the river with Bheema helping him.

Yudhishtira sits on the riverbank, covers his face in his hands and grief convulses him. His mood passes to his brothers and all of them sob like children, as wild remorse grips their hearts. Before the war began, Dhritarashtra had sent a message to Yudhishtira through Sanjaya. He had said Yudhishtira should abandon all thoughts of war, because, with his gentle nature, even if he won he would regret it ever after. The blind king had not been wrong.

As Yudhishtira sits crying like an orphan, Dhritarashtra comes to comfort him. The uncle raises his nephew up compassionately and enfolds him in an embrace.

Dhritarashtra says, “Come, my son, you cannot lose control of yourself. You are a king now; you have a kingdom to care for. Look at Gandhari and me, Yudhishtira. What is your loss compared to ours, what is your remorse compared to ours? All you did was dharma and you have not sinned. That is not true of us and we have lost a hundred sons. Come, my son, this is no time for tears, but for courage and fortitude.”

Krishna, also, comes and takes Yudhishtira’s hand. The Dark One says, “Yudhishtira, your Pitama taught you everything he knew before he left us. You are setting all that at nothing. What will your people do, if you give in to yourself like this?”

Yudhishtira controls himself and they return to Hastinapura.

BOOK FOURTEEN
ASWAMEDHA PARVA 

AUM, I bow down to Narayana, the most exalted Nara and to the Devi Saraswathi and say
Jaya
!

ONE
KRISHNA SAYS FAREWELL 

In Hastinapura, the Pandava takes up the reins of the chariot of the kingdom. Guilt still haunts him. He blames himself for the war and all the death it brought. Krishna, Vyasa and Narada pacify him. They speak to him at length and at least he has the everyday serenity to discharge his dharma as king. Dhritarashtra spends hours talking to his nephew and Vidura comforts him as well.

Now, that the war is over, Krishna and Arjuna take to spending their time with each other, as they used to in the old days. They go back to Indraprastha and rediscover the places where they first grew close. They wander the gardens of the city and spend hours, alone together, in the Mayaa sabha. They range the forest around Indraprastha, hunting, speaking of everything under the sun, of the war and, especially, the events that led to it
¹
.

It hardly seems a few days since they were last here, but in fact fifteen years have gone by. They ride out to the Khandava vana that they helped Agni burn. It was there that they first met Mayaa. The thread of time shimmers clear, its silver strands. Krishna asked Mayaa to build a sabha for Yudh-ishtira; and then the tide of fate swept them along, helplessly. Perhaps, it began even before that: when dark Panchali entered their lives. That was the very day Krishna first met his cousins, the Pan-davas.

They were given a wilderness for their patrimony and the Avatara raised Indraprastha in the desolation. Narada came and told Yudhishtira that Pandu was unhappy in Yama’s halls. The Rajasuya followed and stoked Duryodhana’s envy. Krishna killed Sishupala and everything else had come like a flash flood: the game of dice, Dusasana dragging Draupadi into the Kuru sabha, the swearing of the oaths of revenge and then exile.

Arjuna remembers how he went to Dwaraka to ask for Krishna’s help. Duryodhana had been there, that day. Arjuna chose Krishna for his sarathy and that sealed the fate of the Kauravas. Then, the war to end all wars. Finally, Yudhishtira sat on the throne to which he was born.

One day, Krishna says to Arjuna, “The war is won, your enemies are dead and Yudhishtira sits where he belongs, on the throne of Hastinapura. I have served my purpose, Arjuna and I must return to Dwaraka. I have not seen my mother and father and they must be anxious. I haven’t the courage to ask Yudhishtira if I can leave. I beg you, ask him for me, Arjuna. If he agrees, I will go; if he says I must stay, I shall. What Yudhishtira wants is more important to me than what I want myself. But tell him I said he has his brothers with him to help him rule, he has the wise Vidura at his side. Arjuna, you must also let me go now.”

Before he has finished, he sees tears in Arjuna’s eyes. Krishna takes his cousin’s hand. The Pandava can hardly bear to think of parting from his sarathy. The eighteen days of the war had been the most wonderful days of his life. Krishna had been with him every moment! Fear and triumph they had shared, sorrow and courage. During the war, they had been like one person: two bodies, but one spirit. Arjuna thinks he would not mind reliving his life, every day of it, just to be as near Krishna as he had during the war.

Arjuna cries, “You have served your purpose! How can you say that to me?”

Krishna smiles. “I only meant the war, Pandava. I know you need me still and I need you. I can hardly live without you, my friend. Don’t you understand? You and I are not apart from each other. Half Krishna’s soul is Arjuna!”

For the first time, Krishna tells Arjuna about the anxious night he spent before the day Jayadratha died. He tells him how he told Daruka to keep his chariot ready, because he would kill Jayadratha himself if Arjuna could not. Arjuna cries again to hear him. He clasps Krishna to him and they sit thus, in silence, for a long time. Then, softly, the Pandava says, “I will let you go back to Dwaraka, but only if you promise to return to us soon.”

“How will I stay away for long?” replies Krishna.

The next day the two of them ride back to Hastinapura. They spend that evening with Dhritarashtra and Yudhishtira. In the morning, Arjuna and Krishna come to Yudhishtira’s apartment. They sit chatting pleasantly of this and that, though Yudhishtira’s face continues to show signs of a deep grief.

After a while, Arjuna says, “Krishna feels he must return to Dwaraka. He says his father will be waiting for him.”

Sighing, Yudhishtira says, “Of course you must go back to see your father and mother. But oh, my Lord, how will we live without you?” Krishna only smiles. Yudhishtira wipes his tears, then, says, “Very well, I will let you go. But on one condition: that you come to me in Hastinapura, just as you used to in Indraprastha, as soon as I think of you. Whenever I needed you, Krishna, you always came. Let that never change. Go now; go home to Vasudeva and Devaki. They must long to see you. So much has happened in our world since you were last with them.”

Krishna says, “I will be here whenever you need me, that will never change. One war has ended, Yudhishtira, but another, greater one is just beginning. You still have the war against yourself to win.”

The Avatara takes leave of his cousins. Satyaki bids the Pandavas farewell; after embracing his friend, Bheema stands in a daze, staring dully ahead of him. After everything they have been through together, at death’s very gates, parting is hard indeed. Krishna prostrates himself before Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, Kunti, Vidura, Yudhishtira and Bheema. He takes tender leave of Draupadi, Nakula and Sahadeva. Finally, he embraces Arjuna, quickly, then turns away and climbs into his chariot. Daruka flicks his reins over his horses and Krishna and Satyaki set out for home. The Pandavas stand gazing after the white chariot long after it has vanished from view.

When they have driven some way, Krishna lays a hand on his sarathy’s shoulder, “Come, Daruka, now fly!”

The horses flash across the ground, then rise steeply into the air and go the way of the wind: home to mysterious Dwaraka, jewel in the sea.

TWO
THE ASWAMEDHA YAGNA 

The days pass and his kingdom prospers like the earth blooming in a sacred spring; but Yudhishtira still grieves. One day, Vyasa returns to Hastinapura. He finds the Pandava king dejected, wasting. Bheema and Arjuna tell the muni that remorse still torments their brother.

Vyasa says to Yudhishtira, “It seems all our advice has been in vain. You still mourn for what is past, which cannot be recalled or mended. Your brothers are distraught to see you like this, your mother is anxious for your health.”

Sadly, Yudhishtira says, “My lord, I cannot help myself, though I try.”

Before he came, Vyasa has already thought of a remedy for Yudhishtira. “There is a remedy prescribed of old that will help you subdue your sorrow. Undertake an Aswamedha yagna.”

Hope flickers in the Pandava’s eyes. He says, “The Aswamedha will purify the earth of the sins of war, but a king must have vast resources before he can even think of the yagna. The war has emptied our coffers. I cannot dream of performing an Aswamedha. Why, the commonest sacrifice would tax me sorely.”

“The Ikshvaku king of old, Marutta’s, treasure lies buried under the Himalaya. I know where the stone vault is and the trove is waiting to be unearthed by a needy king of the earth.”

“How was such a treasure hidden on the mountain?”

“Once, Marutta wanted to perform a profound yagna and approached Guru Brihaspati to be his priest. Brihaspati said, ‘I am the guru of the Devas of light, of Indra himself. How can I be the priest of a mere mortal king? Find someone else to be your ritvik.’

Marutta sought the counsel of some munis. No ordinary priest would suffice for the yagna he planned, he had need of a great brahmana. He was advised to seek the services of Brihaspati’s brother, Samvarta, who now lived in a forest on earth. Samvarta had left Devaloka because he could not bear his brother’s envy any more and Indra always took Brihaspati’s part against him. Marutta found Samvarta and begged him to be his priest. Samvarta said, ‘I will be your ritvik, Kshtariya. You must first worship Lord Siva. Only he can give you the wealth you will need for the yagna of yagnas that you plan.’

Marutta of the House of the Sun was a rajarishi. He sat in tapasya and Siva blessed him with a treasure like the world had never seen. Marutta and Samvarta decided to perform the yagna upon the Himalaya. A thousand craftsmen were commissioned to create the golden urns for the sacrifice and build a wonderful yagnashala on the mountain. When Brihaspati heard who Marutta’s priest was to be, when he heard about the wealth with which Siva had blessed that king, he was livid with envy. He grew pale, thin and wasted day by day.

Indra asked him, ‘My lord, what ails you? Don’t your servants care for you well?’

Brihaspati said in a low voice, ‘Marutta has begun his yagna with wealth won from Siva. Samvarta is his priest.’

‘But you are my own priest, the Devaguru. How can Samvarta harm you?’

Grimly, his master replied, ‘Who can bear to see an enemy prosper? Indra, you must do something to put out the fire in my heart!’

Indra sent messengers to Marutta’s court, offering him Brihaspati’s services as priest for his yagna. Marutta sent his reply to the Deva king, ‘Samvarta shall be my ritvik.’

Furious Indra wanted to cast his Vajra at Marutta, but Samvarta prevented him with his tapasya shakti. Finally, Indra and the other Devas attended Marutta’s yagna and, pacified by that king, gave him their blessing. When the sacrifice on the Himalaya was complete, Marutta gave away gold by the sack to the brahmanas who had come to chant the Vedas. Siva had been so generous that, even after this, a huge treasure was left over, gold and jewels to fill a storehouse. Marutta had this wealth sealed in a rock chamber on the mountain, in a secret place and he returned to his capital, Ayodhya.”