Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (20 page)

I am with Satyaki, watching the ironmongers at work, when Nakula comes looking for me. Yudhistira wants to see me.

My elder brother is alone in the audience chamber, lost in thought. He looks up and motions for me to sit.

‘Dritarashtra is right,’ he says. ‘A war will only bring destruction to our clan. We must try our best to avoid that path.’

I remain silent. Yudhistira continues, ‘We must try to negotiate a treaty by which we get Indraprastha. If not, at least five villages—’

‘Five villages?’ I cannot control myself. ‘After all we have been through, who says five villages are acceptable?’

‘I do. I am your king. If you question that, then the war must begin now!’

There is fire in my elder brother’s eyes. With effort, I choke back my response and walk away.

I do not speak about Yudhistira’s proposal when Drishtadyumna seeks me out later. The spy he had sent to Hastinapur has returned.

Arguments had broken out after our messenger left. Dritarashtra and Uncle Vidura have been engaged in acrimonious talks for weeks now.

Bhishma and Aunt Gandhari had argued our case, trying to persuade Dritarashtra to overrule Duryodhana. But now they have withdrawn.

‘And the son of the charioteer? What did he say?’

‘Karna overstepped,’ Drishtadyumna says. ‘He made the mistake of challenging Bhishma in open court. He was torn apart.

‘Bhishma said it was beneath him to engage with an upstart king who won the crown by mere association with a gullible prince.

‘Karna has since kept to his chambers in Duryodhana’s palace. He refuses to attend assembly.’

Drishtadyumna cannot stop smiling. It is hardly the time to tell him his sister might well live in a mud house in some village.

‘The blind man cannot sleep at night, fearing for the safety of his sons,’ he continues. ‘Can you guess whom he fears the most?’

It is not difficult to guess. The thought of Arjuna, with his newly acquired weapons, would deprive any enemy of sleep.

‘No,’ Drishtadyumna says, smiling. ‘It is you, the mighty Bhimasena! Servants say the king has nightmares of you killing all his sons!’

I grow quiet. Here is the enemy fearing us, believing in the might of the Pandavas—might that our king seems to have little faith in!

A servant arrives at that moment, summoning us both to the court hall.

When we walk in, my younger brothers are already seated in front of Yudhistira. Satyaki and Krishna are also present.

‘We must make one last bid for peace,’ Yudhistira announces. ‘A prominent person must go as envoy this time. Krishna has agreed.’

From the look on Krishna’s face, it is clear this is not his idea.

Yudhistira continues, ‘I have called you to know your thoughts on the situation. This is an important decision.’

The decision, I want to scream, has already been made. What Yudhistira wants now is for us to agree with it!

When he looks at me, I say emotionlessly, ‘You are the king. If your decision is that we must avoid war at all costs, so be it.

‘I will be Duryodhana’s slave if needed.’

Krishna, who was expecting me to contest Yudhistira, looks up in surprise.

‘What do mean?’ he asks sharply. ‘Has the mighty Bhimasena lost courage as war approaches?’

‘What more did you expect from the son of the impotent Pandu?’ I bite back.

Drishtadyumna looks at me in shock. Grasping that there is more to this than he knows, Krishna calms down.

Arjuna speaks next, hesitantly. ‘The Kauravas have heaped terrible wrongs on us. But our teachers are all lined up on their side.

‘The thought of taking up arms against them bothers me no end. For that reason, it would be better if a solution can be found.’

When Yudhistira looks at the twins, Nakula says, ‘If Arjuna and Bhima are in favour of another effort—’

Sahadeva stands up quickly. He is shaking.

‘Bhima and Arjuna are great warriors and have expressed their opinion. So has Nakula. But hear what I think!

‘For thirteen long years I have waited for war. I have waited to kill the men who dragged Draupadi into an open court.

‘Have you forgotten how they tried to disrobe her? Have you forgotten how we stood, silently enduring that sight?

‘I will be at peace only after this war! Only after I kill that wretched Sakuni with my own hands!’ Sahadeva stops, almost sobbing.

Yudhistira’s voice betrays anger. ‘You have all spoken, and I have listened,’ he says. ‘Krishna can now leave for Hastinapur as our envoy.’

A movement from behind the curtains. Soft footsteps. ‘Stop!’ Draupadi says. ‘One word before you leave.’

Ignoring the rest of us, she walks to Krishna. She says, ‘The king has not asked my opinion—just as he did not when he pawned me.’

Yudhistira says impatiently, ‘We are discussing matters of state. This is not the place—’

‘Kuru women must either be blind or dumb to survive such matters of state. I am neither!’

The anger on Draupadi’s face silences Yudhistira. Collecting herself with effort, she turns back to Krishna.

‘Five villages! Is that the price of my honour, Krishna?

‘And is it you, the same Krishna who promised me the destruction of the Kauravas, who goes begging for peace now?

‘See this before you go!’ Draupadi says, pushing her unbound hair over her shoulder.

‘This is the hair by which Dushasana dragged me.

‘I have not tied this for thirteen years. Tell me if I should tie it now and weep for my husbands who are not men!’

Her anger spent, Draupadi covers her face. She weeps.

Holding her, Krishna says gently, ‘I must carry Yudhistira’s words to Hastinapur. But remember this: the messenger is the message.

‘Do not cry. I still see you reigning as queen after your husbands destroy your enemies.’

Then, turning to Yudhistira, Krishna says coldly, ‘As per your request, I leave for Hastinapur now.’

I sit in the hall for a long time, silent. The shock on Drishtadyumna’s face, the scorn in Draupadi’s words! Bhima, the big coward!

Later, Draupadi and Drishtadyumna find me outside. They fall in line, walking on either side. I do not say anything.

Draupadi breaks the silence. ‘It is a good thing you did not challenge your brother today. A rift among the Pandavas must not happen.’

Draupadi smiles at me. The rage within me subsides.

She says, ‘Krishna may deliver Yudhistira’s message to Hastinapur, but he will not allow an unjust settlement.’

The next week is agonizing. Everything comes to a standstill. Enthusiasm among the soldiers wanes. All are waiting for word from Krishna.

When he finally returns from Hastinapur, we assemble in the court hall. Drupada, Virata and his son Uttara are present. So is Drishtadyumna.

I am surprised to see Draupadi there. Krishna must have demanded her presence.

Satyaki and three of his army commanders are the last to arrive. Once they are seated, Krishna begins without preliminaries.

‘Duryodhana is not prepared to part with anything,’ he says. ‘Not half the kingdom. Not five villages.

‘As you wanted, Yudhistira, I then asked him for five houses. The answer was no. Do you want to hear his precise words?

‘He said the Pandavas will get nothing from him. Not even a needlepoint of land—let alone Indraprastha!’

Across the hall, I look at Draupadi. Her face is content.

‘Did you meet Mother?’ Yudhistira asks.

‘Yes,’ Krishna says. ‘She has a message for all of you. These are her words:

‘“The loss of wealth and prestige matters but little to me. What matters is what my daughter-in-law suffered at the hands of the Kauravas.

‘“I cannot forget how she stood like an orphan in the royal hall. If my sons have forgotten that, tell them I have forgotten them.’’’

Krishna pauses. When no one says anything, he looks at Arjuna and me.

‘This was Kunti’s message for you: “You must make your brother king of Hastinapur. No matter whom you have to fight, you have my blessings.”’

We wait to hear what Mother had to say to Yudhistira. Krishna turns to him.

‘To you her words were, “To protect yours sometimes you have to destroy others. Kings who do not understand that are not fit to rule.”’

Yudhistira falls silent. Arjuna is still, lost in his own thoughts. Satyaki and Drishtadyumna hold a hushed conversation in the corner.

After a few moments, Krishna cuts into the silence, ‘What would you have us do, Yudhistira? What is your decision?’

Yudhistira sighs. ‘Prepare,’ he says reluctantly. ‘The decision has been made for us.’

KURUKSHETRA

EPISODE 29

TWEETS 78

A week after Abhimanyu’s wedding, the first group of soldiers begin to march out, tasked with clearing out land for a crematorium.

The crematorium is to be on the banks of Hiranvati, close to the battleground in Kurukshetra, but not too close to the tents of our soldiers.

Across the river is Matsya territory. Virata has ordered the construction of wooden lodges there for the womenfolk to stay.

Slowly, dwellings begin to come up in Kurukshetra. Those for priests are constructed first. Then, the facilities for sacrificial rites.

The palace tent comes up next. And finally, the hundreds of shelters to house the thousands who have come to our aid under different banners.

Fighting for us are troops from seven kingdoms: Kashi, Kekaya, Matsya, Panchala, Chedi, Pandya and Magadha.

The Kaurava army is much larger. Against our seven divisions, they have eleven.

But clever Krishna! He ensures our forces arrive early. By the time the enemy starts out, we have set up camps in strategic positions.

Several weeks after our arrival at Kurukshetra, Drishtadyumna and I watch the Kaurava contingent approach. It seems to go on forever.

Among the marching soldiers are thousands of carts carrying provisions and weaponry drawn by bullocks.

The chariots follow. Chariots with two, four and six horses, chariots with distinct markings and individual flags for the famous warriors.

Then comes their cavalry, many times the size of ours. Grimly I watch hundreds and hundreds of magnificent warhorses walk past.

The elephants bring up the rear, fodder hanging from their sides, the mahouts seated atop swaying to the ponderous rhythm of their march.

‘A huge army!’ Drishtadyumna says. ‘We have the banks of the river. They will have trouble setting up water supply!’

An emissary comes from Bhishma a few days later, suggesting a meeting to agree on battle rules.

Armies of this scale have never clashed before. So it is all the more important, Bhishma said, that clear engagement rules are drawn up.

While my brothers and Krishna hear out the emissary, I busy myself settling down our elephant contingent. Later Drishtadyumna finds me.

‘Battle will commence at sunrise, end at sunset,’ he says. ‘We spent a day in discussions, reiterating rules that every soldier knows!’

Unarmed warriors must not be attacked. No impaired warrior must be killed. Surrendered must be protected. Corpses must not be mutilated…

I wonder how many of the rules will be followed once the bloodshed begins.

The question foremost on my mind, though, is: who will lead our army? The Kauravas have Bhishma. Who will be our commander-in-chief?

Sahadeva suggests King Virata. Nakula, after prolonged thought, puts forward Drupada, arguing he has the needed wisdom and experience.

All eyes turn to me when I say that Virata and Drupada, while our elders and valued well-wishers, would not be ideal for the role.

‘Whom do you propose?’ Yudhistira asks.

‘Shikhandi,’ I say.

I had heard of the exploits of this elder brother of Drishtadyumna and Draupadi. And he had impressed me from the first time I met him.

At Abhimanyu’s wedding, swayed by the thought of the impending war, our revelry had been wild. But Sikhandi stood aside, unaffected.

The tall, lean warrior has an ascetic quality about him, the ability to detach himself, the discipline to remain unemotional.