The Mahabharata Read online

  Krishna happened to be at the court on a visit. He knew that the destiny of the Pandavas was soon to be in his hands. When they turned to him for advice, he said, “I feel that you should all go to Hastinapura, and I will go with you.”

  On their arrival at Hastinapura, Dhritarashtra received his nephews with every show of affection. Several days later, he told Yudhistira, “I am dividing this kingdom, and your half will be Khandavaprastha. I would like you to settle down there with your brothers, wife, and mother. Your cousins will rule here; and you may each live happily in your own territory.”

  The Pandavas set out, led by Krishna, for Khandavaprastha, which proved to be nothing more than a desert—but they were happy to have found a place which was their own. They measured out the land and, after purificatory ceremonies, began to build fort walls, moats, and encampments. With Krishna’s blessings, and with the services of the architects he had brought from Dwaraka—since they could no longer trust any builder from Hastinapura—in due course, a brilliant city came into being. It contained a palace with every luxury; mansions; broad roads and highways, shaded with trees; fountains and squares; and shops filled with rare merchandise. Many citizens and traders from Hastinapura came to reside there, attracted by its beauty and convenience. The name of the city was changed to Indraprastha, since it matched the splendour of the City of God.

  When they were settled, Yudhistira had a visit from Sage Narada.* Narada wished to see for himself how well the Pandavas had settled at Indraprastha. He spoke at length to Yudhistira on the duties of a king, and then passed on to the problems that were likely to arise among brothers possessing a common wife. He advised that at the time she was possessed by one, the others must not only avoid all thoughts of her, but take care never to intrude into the privacy of the couple. The penalty for such a lapse was also decreed—exile for twelve years. To illustrate his warnings, Narada narrated the story of Sunda and Upasunda, two invincible brothers, demons who ruled the world and were deeply attached to each other until they abducted Tilottama, a celestial beauty. In due course they fell out and destroyed each other.

  In spite of the restrictions laid down by Narada, one day Arjuna had perforce to intrude when Yudhistira was in Draupadi’s company, seeking his guidance on an urgent matter of the state. Exiled for twelve years, he spent his time bathing in holy rivers. In the course of his wanderings, Arjuna also married Ulupi, a princess of the serpent world, and then Subadhra, sister of Krishna.

  6 City of Splendour

  TO COMMEMORATE their successful rehabilitation, Yudhistira performed a grand rajasuya sacrifice. Thousands were invited to be present in Indraprastha, Krishna being the most distinguished among them all. The guests were overwhelmed with the hospitality and general grandeur of the new Pandava capital with its mansions, parks, and broad roads. The prosperity of the Pandavas was admired by some and envied by others. Among those in whom envy was stirred was Duryodhana, who along with his uncle, Sakuni, had been a special guest and was given a palace and looked after with extreme concern.

  After the sacrificial ceremonies were over, all the visitors left, loaded with presents and honours. Duryodhana felt so comfortable that he extended his stay at Indraprastha as long as he could. Finally, one day he took leave of the Pandavas and left with his uncle Sakuni for Hastinapura. While riding back in his chariot, Duryodhana said with a sigh, “See how well the Pandavas live! And how much they have managed to create—out of that desert land to which they were condemned!”

  “They have the grace of gods,” said Sakuni, “and they have also laboured hard to achieve prosperity….”

  Duryodhana received the remark in silence, and then said, “Did you notice how well every one of the thousands spoke of them and what rare gifts were exchanged?”

  “Yes, yes, one could not help noticing all that,” replied Sakuni.

  “We are doomed,” said Duryodhana, “while they are coming up with so many as their allies and friends….”

  “After all, they have developed only their portion of land. It need not concern you.”

  “You do not understand,” insisted Duryodhana. “I feel tormented, and unless they are degraded in some way, I shall know no peace. My soul burns at the thought of those worthless cousins sitting up and preening themselves!”

  Sakuni laughed at this and said, “Why don’t you leave them alone? No use challenging them to a war. In addition to their allies, Arjuna is now armed with his great bow, Gandiva, and with the gift of an inexhaustible quiver.”

  “Yes, I heard about that shameful thing—how he got it!”

  “Nothing so shameful; it was a gift of Agni. He is favoured by the gods….”.

  “How? Go deeper into it.”

  “To please Agni, he set the Khandava Forest on fire with his astra. He and his ally Krishna, who professes to be an incarnation, rounded up all the poor beasts and birds, sealed off the exits, and drove them back into the forest. Fledglings and birds and cubs and their parents—all alike were roasted and cooked—because the God of Fire needed to consume animal fat for his own well-being. Arjuna was only too ready to provide it and was rewarded with the Gandiva! Whatever you may say of it, Gandiva has made Arjuna invincible. It is an inescapable fact. We cannot fight with them yet. You made attempts to end their lives, and all your plans failed. Now they are strong and prosperous—leave them alone, I say. Don’t go near them; they live in their territory and you in yours. I don’t see why you should think of them at all.”

  “You don’t understand, you don’t realise the agony I suffer. Do you know how they flaunt their prowess and prosperity and laugh at me? Actually laugh! They stand in a row and laugh at me. They let their servants laugh at me.”

  “Well, we were treated as honoured guests all along—I cannot imagine they would have laughed at you.”

  “I tell you, they did openly to my face.”

  “How? When was it?”

  “At their new hall of assembly….”

  “What a grand, marvellous building, none to equal it anywhere,” said Sakuni. “Again, it is a gift from that divine architect Maya, who was saved from the fire of Khandava Forest….”

  “Everything for them seems to have come out of that fire!” said Duryodhana. “We should have had an assembly hall of that kind, not they. They don’t deserve such a grand structure—after all, Hastinapura is more ancient than Indraprastha. How cunningly built, what polish!” He was lost in the vision of that great structure. Soon he recovered his mood of indignation and said, “There was what looked like a pool with lotus blooms on it, all in a passage. While stepping into it, I tucked up my cloak—it was only a polished marble floor, and they laughed at me for this little mistake. A few yards off was another place which looked like that, and I fell into it and drenched my clothes. I had to change, and they seemed to have watched for it. All of them laughed and joked, especially that wild bull, Bhima. Oh!”

  “Oh, forget it, it was not really designed to upset you, as you know….”

  “And then there was an open door I tried to pass through, which was actually only a wall. And at an open door I hesitated, taking it to be only a wall. I saw a lovely rose I couldn’t pluck since it was only a painting. They were spying on me all the time; they stood about and guffawed at my predicament, including Draupadi… that awful woman. Someday it will be my turn to laugh at her, be sure of that… ”

  After much talk on the same lines, Sakuni said, “Give up the idea of challenging them to a war. Some other way must be found to humiliate them… ” He thought over it and said, “Challenge them to a game of dice. Well, I’ll help you; we will finesh them through it. I know Yudhistira’s mind. He can never decline an invitation to a game, though he is a worthless player, the weakest player one could imagine!”

  The idea appealed to Duryodhana and he said, “You must help me. First speak to the King and persuade him to invite Yudhistira…. I cannot talk to the old man about it.”

  At Indraprastha, Yudhistira had a visit
from Sage Vyasa. Vyasa had come ostensibly to bless him after the rajasuya, but before leaving he uttered a prophecy which made Yudhistira uneasy. “I read the signs and portents. The next thirteen years are going to prove difficult for you. Actions and reactions will be difficult to arrest, and will produce grave consequences. At the end of thirteen years, the entire race of kshatriyas will be wiped out, and you will be the instrument of such a destruction.”

  After Vyasa left, Yudhistira remained gloomy and reflected, “How can we ward off what is destined to happen? I make this vow: for thirteen years, I will not utter a harsh word to anyone, whatever may happen, whether it be a king, brother, or commoner; I shall not utter any word that may create differences among persons. Harsh words and arguments are at the root of every conflict in the world. I shall avoid them; perhaps in this way I can blunt the edge of fate.”

  When they reached Hastinapura, without wasting a moment, Sakuni spoke to King Dhritarashtra. He reported in detail on the rajasuya, and the distinguished guests, and the grandeur of the whole business. In conclusion he said, “Your son Duryodhana was received and treated well, but I suspect he is not happy. He has lost his colour, a pallor is coming over him, he has no taste for food, he is brooding, there is some deep disturbance in his mind. We must find out the cause of it.”

  Dhritarashtra was upset. Immediately he sent for his son Duryodhana and questioned him. “I learn that you have grown pale, and some worry is gnawing you inside. Tell me what it is. We will make you happy again.”

  Duryodhana described in detail the splendour and richness of all that he had seen in the Pandava country, and concluded, “They are our enemies: that you must understand in the first place.”

  “No, no,” said the old man. “I can make no distinction between you and the Pandavas.”

  “That may be, but I have a different philosophy. They are our enemies. I have read in the scripture that one who does not feel angered at the rise and prosperity of his enemies is like a mud effigy without any feeling. Jealousy is a normal, legitimate emotion. It is our duty to match their luxury and excel them, and impoverish them when the time comes.”

  Dhritarashtra, though he disputed his son’s view, ultimately weakened and agreed to do his bidding. When he heard of the Hall of Marbles at Indraprastha, he decided to build one for Duryodhana immediately. He summoned his minister and ordered, “Let a million men work on this, but I must have this hall of assembly built in the quickest time; it must rise as if by a conjurer’s spell. Let the hall be as wide and long as the Lake of Manasarovar, of which I have heard, so that a man standing at one end cannot be seen from the other end. Let there be a thousand marble pillars supporting the roof. Let the roof be set with countless gems and scintillate like a starry night. The Prince has described to me vividly all that he saw at Indraprastha. Gold and the nine kinds of precious stones must be embedded in every wall and pillar—not an inch of space must be left vacant. Let there be no delay. Put up a lotus pond so still that people may want to walk on it. Let the marble on the floor be shining bright so that people might tuck up their garments while stepping over it. Let a million men be engaged.”

  When the hall was ready, he dispatched Vidura to Indraprastha to invite the Pandavas to visit, as desired by Duryodhana.

  Yudhistira felt happy and puzzled when on a certain day Vidura arrived at Indraprastha. After the initial courtesies, Vidura explained, “King Dhritarashtra invites you to visit his new hall, which he has named the Crystal Palace. He is inviting all the princes known to him. He wants you to come without delay, and bring along your brothers, mother, and Panchali. He says that you should stay and enjoy, and also amuse yourself with a game of dice in that distinguished hall.” After delivering the message in the official manner, Vidura expressed his personal impressions and judgement. He explained the circumstances under which the hall had come into being. “Nothing that I said could have any effect on him. He is carried away by his son’s views and interests, ignoring all else. If you decide not to respond to this call, I can go back and say so. I am, after all, only a messenger.”

  Yudhistira thought over the invitation, remembering Vyasa’s warning. “Could it be pre-ordained?” He had uneasy feelings and said, “Gambling is immoral; it leads to bitterness and conflict. Why should we engage ourselves in such an evil game? We know fully where it will lead us.”

  Vidura remained silent. He merely repeated, “O King, do what seems to you the best under these circumstances.”

  Yudhistira said, “When Dhritarashtra commands, how can I refuse? It is against the kshatriyas’ code to refuse when invited to play a game. I will come.”

  Arriving at Hastinapura, the Pandavas went up to each one of their relations, starting with King Dhritarashtra, and greeted them. Then they were shown their chambers, where they were served food and drink, and were also provided with music to put them to sleep. They were awakened in the morning by bards singing and playing on their instruments. After exercise and repast, having bathed, donned new clothes, prayed, and anointed themselves with sandal paste and perfume, they set out to the assembly hall.

  7 Stakes Unmatched

  DHRITARASHTRA FELT an inordinate enthusiasm for the coming gambling match between his son and the Pandavas, and was proud of the hall he had built for this purpose. The hall was packed with visitors—rulers from the neighbouring countries and several distinguished guests. In the central portion of the hall, on one side sat Yudhistira, backed by his brothers; on the other, Duryodhana, Sakuni, and their supporters. The royal seats were occupied by Dhritarashtra, with Sanjaya as ever at his side, and Vidura, Karna, Bhishma, and the hundred brothers. When they were all settled and ready to play, Yudhistira said to his opponents, “Please play a fair game and do not try to win by unfair means. Gambling itself is not harmful, but it becomes a vice when deceit is employed.”

  Sakuni replied, “There can be no such thing as deceit in a game. One who knows how to handle the dice and how to throw them is gifted with a special knowledge and deserves success. He should not be called a cheat. One who knows his dice imparts life to them, and then they obey his commands. How can you call this deceit? There is no such thing. The real evil is the stake; one who stakes irresponsibly and blindly commits a sin. In every contest, whether of arms, wits, or learning, the competent one seeks to defeat the incompetent one; and there is nothing wrong in it. If you have your misgivings, let us not play. We are ready to withdraw.”

  Yudhistira replied, “Having accepted the challenge, I will not withdraw. Let us begin. With whom am I to play in this assembly? I have wealth, gems, and gold—an inexhaustible source. Whoever can match my stakes, let him begin.”

  At this point, Duryodhana said, “I am also pouring out my wealth and jewels on this occasion and Sakuni, my uncle, will play on my behalf….”

  Yudhistira said, “Playing by proxy is not permissible. But if you insist, let the game begin; here is my stake.”

  Beginning modestly with a handful of pearls, the stakes grew in size. Yudhistira slipped into a gambler’s frenzy, blind to consequences, his vision blurred to all but the ivory-white dice and the chequered board. He forgot who he was, where he was, who else was there, and what was right or wrong. All he knew was the clatter of the rolling dice, followed every few minutes by Sakuni’s raucous chant, “I win,” and the cheers that burst from Duryodhana’s party. Yudhistira was provoked to raise his stakes higher each time Sakuni’s voice was heard.

  “I have hundreds of women of ethereal beauty and capacity to serve and please…. I have a chariot drawn by eight horses before whose pace no mortal can survive; it has gold-inlaid wheels and bells that can ring across the earth….” At each stage he was hoping that the other side would give up, but they accepted the highest challenge calmly as they were in no doubt about Sakuni’s “I win.” Again and again it happened. The elders in the assembly hall were aghast at the trend of the events. Yudhistira endlessly described the enormous wealth that he possessed in elephants, armies, c
attle, and territory, and offered each item in the hope it would be unmatched. But within two minutes, an interval just sufficient to roll the dice, Sakuni would declare, “I win, I win.”

  Suddenly Sakuni was heard to say to Yudhistira, with a great deal of mock solicitude, “King, I notice that you have lost a great deal. I’ll give you time to recollect anything you may still have in your possession, and tell me… ”

  Yudhistira’s ego was roused. “Why do you ask for an estimate of my wealth? I have still enough in millions and trillions. You don’t have to concern yourself with my limits…. Here is…”

  “I win,” declared Sakuni.

  “Never mind, I still have cattle, horses, and sheep extending up to the banks of Sindhu. I will play with them, continue.”

  “I win.”

  “I have my city, the country, land and wealth, and all dwelling houses… ”

  “I have won.”

  “Now my wealth consists of my allies, princes. You see them decked in gold and royal ornaments… ”

  “I win.”

  Within a short time Yudhistira had lost all his dependent princes, soldiers, and attendants, and Sakuni asked with a leer, “Have you anyone left?”

  At this point, Vidura said to Dhritarashtra, “This has gone too far. Stop it, and if you are not obeyed, get that jackal in our midst, your son, destroyed. Otherwise, I see the complete destruction of your entire family, sooner or later. To save a family or a clan it is proper to sacrifice an individual. Even at birth, Duryodhana never cried like a baby, but let out a howl like a jackal which everyone understood as an evil sign. They advised you to destroy that monster forthwith, but you have allowed him to flourish in your family. You are partial to him and accept all his demands, and you have sanctioned this monstrous game, which is undermining the Pandava family. But remember that this setback to them is illusory; whatever they lose now, they will recover later with a vengeance. Before it is too late, stop it and order Dhananjaya*to kill Duryodhana here and now, and you will save the entire race….”