THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 1 (30 page)

FIFTY-TWO THE COUNCIL AT HASTINAPURA
 

Every seat in the sabha was taken. Bheeshma and Drona were there, waiting for the king, so were Kripa, Baahlika, Somadatta and Vidura and all the others whose opinions mattered in the kingdom, who wielded influence among the people.

Dhritarashtra needed no help to find his way to his throne. He walked in regally and took his place. The others sat after him, Duryodhana and Karna side by side. These men were mostly greybeards, though recently, at Duryodhana’s instance, some younger kshatriyas had been admitted into this elect council. Karna was one; most of the others were Duryodhana’s brothers.

The news had spread swiftly and all the men in that court knew what they had come to discuss. Among them were those who supported Duryodhana and others were delighted at the Pandavas’ resurrection; even if they dare not show their delight for fear of the blind king and his ruthless son.

Dhritarashtra said solemnly, “Pitama Bheeshma, you have heard the joyful news, I presume. Would you like to say what you feel? We must keep in mind that Pandu’s sons vanished mysteriously, leaving us to think they were dead; and their even stranger conduct in Kampilya.”

Bheeshma rose today, as he never had before. He did so to emphasize the gravity of this council. He began to speak and his tone was unemotional as always, but there was no doubt about what he said.

“The time has come for justice to be done, or fate will turn against this kingdom. We have been given a second chance by time, as few peoples ever are. God be praised the Pandavas and Kunti are alive. We must not seek a confrontation with them, for whatever reason, real or imaginary. They have given us no offence, no cause to make enemies of them, though they may not say the same of some of us.

Dhritarashtra, Pandu and you are both my nephews and I have always loved you equally. Death has taken Pandu, but his sons are with us. They are as dear to me as you are, Duryodhana. In my eyes, they have as much right to this kingdom as you. No, they have more right, because Yudhishtira is older than you are.”

He paused. A sigh quivered through his great frame and his eyes may have been moist. “But, alas, what has so far only happened in other kingdoms, to other princes, seems to have taken root among us Kurus as well. Perhaps we have been cursed for a forgotten sin of some ancestor; perhaps, for some sin of our own. One thing seems certain: Duryodhana and his brothers and Yudhishtira and his brothers will never be able to live together in peace, under the rule of the eldest of them.

So, this is what I say to you. Duryodhana, do not carry your hatred of your cousins any further. Give up half the kingdom to them. By God’s grace, there is enough for both of you and even He will condone such a division, knowing that bloodshed is the only other choice.

Hear me well, Duryodhana. You stand at a crossroads in your life and at one in history also. What you decide today will bring you either everlasting fame or eternal infamy. My son, in the end a man’s strength is his honor, his reputation: what other people know and say of him. Take the noble path of conciliation, you will not regret it. Otherwise…”

He paused and now his voice choked, “Otherwise, the doom I fear, the doom foretold for this kingdom and indeed for all the sacred land, will come to pass. Strife will rule us and the days of peace will vanish forever from Bharatavarsha. Listen to me, Duryodhana. I have lived many more years than you have and I love you. You are young and there is so much you do not understand. Yet, everything depends on what you do.

If you choose selfishly, evil will take us all. If you make the right choice, the choice of dharma, you will be remembered forever as a kshatriya who saved his kingdom in a time of crisis. We are all friends here; all of us wish the Kuru kingdom well. All of us know, Duryodhana, that your reputation is tainted after what happened at Varanasi; and your father, the king’s, as well.

A man dies not when his spirit leaves his body, but when his reputation perishes. You have been given a rare opportunity to redeem yourself; seize it with both hands. Fortunately for you, Purochana is dead and can tell no tales. If you give Yudhishtira half this kingdom, you will clear your name with our people. They will know you have returned to the way of justice. They will celebrate that now they have not one but two princes of dharma to rule them when your father’s days are over.”

The patriarch was overcome. Wiping his eyes, he said, again, “Duryodhana, only you can save us from the evil you have invited into this land of truth. Give the Pandavas half the kingdom, or there will be hell to pay on earth.”

Bheeshma sat down heavily, as if he already knew Duryodhana would ignore his warning. And that prince had avoided his grandsire’s gaze all the while he spoke, occasionally turning to whisper something to Karna, even to share a smile with his friend.

There was a brief silence in the sabha. Then, expressionless as ever, the king said, “Acharya Drona, what do you think?”

Drona rose like a dark flame. His voice was firm and there was no doubt in it when he spoke. “My lord, it is the sacred duty of anyone whose advice is sought on so solemn a matter that he speak only what he believes to be the truth. I agree with what Pitama Bheeshma has said. The Pandavas must have an equal share in the kingdom. It is dharma and if dharma is not observed, retribution will overtake us.

Let us have done with this hollow debate. We all know what the right thing to do is. Let a messenger go straightaway to Kampilya, bearing gifts for the Pandavas and their bride, for Drupada and his sons. Let him say how happy you are at their return and then let him ask them to return to Hastinapura. Welcome your nephews with open arms, Dhritarashtra and set Yudhishtira upon the throne of his fathers. It is not only I, but the people of the kingdom who want this.

It is your dharma, my lord, to care for your brother’s sons. Waste no more time on pointless discussion. Decide who you will send as your messenger and let him set out at once.”

Drona had hardly finished, when Karna jumped up and cried to the king, “I am amazed that you honor Bheeshma and Drona as your wisest counselors! I find it strange indeed that the counsel they give is against your own interests and those of your son, the yuvaraja Duryodhana. This is craven, hypocritical advice, my lord. These men seem more like enemies than friends.

Mine is the way you must choose: the straightforward path of battle and bloodshed and kingdom and glory won by arms!”

No one had ever dared speak against Bheeshma and Drona before in the Kuru sabha. Duryodhana’s pale eyes scanned the faces of all present, to determine who was with him, who against and who could be bought to his side. Karna went on fiercely, “My lord, you are wise enough to decide for yourself who speaks in your interest and whose advice is alloyed with cowardice.”

He sat down and exchanged a glance with Duryodhana. The die was cast. Drona said, “Young man, you speak from envy and you have a malicious tongue! You dare point your finger at the Pitama and me. You are so full of hatred, you hardly know what you are saying. If we don’t do as Bheeshma has said, ruin will come to the Kurus sooner than you imagine.”

Karna was ready to speak again, but Vidura was up before him. “Dhritarashtra, hear what I have to say also.”

The king turned his sightless face toward his brother’s voice. Vidura said, “You have no counsel sager than Bheeshma’s and Drona’s. In age and experience, wisdom and sincerity, there is no one in the kingdom to match them. How can these mere boys, Duryodhana and Karna, full of youth, full of pique and of little wisdom, hope to advise you better than Pitama or Acharya Drona? How can you take Karna’s hotheaded counsel seriously? He hardly understands how grave these deliberations are.”

Vidura’s eyes flashed. “What Karna advocates, the way of war, may seem more pleasant to a father’s heart. You must not be tempted again. I am your brother and I have no fear in telling you that your name and your honor are covered in shame after the palace in Varanasi burned. What the people say does not reach your ears, because you are the king. I have heard what they say and it does not augur well for the kingdom.

Fate has indeed decided to give you another chance, as she does so seldom. Grasp it with both hands, Dhritarashtra. Call the Pandavas back, set Yudhishtira on the Kuru throne and wash the taint of sin from yourself. This is a heavensent opportunity; do not squander it, as these impulsive, ignorant boys want you to. Let Pandu not look down from heaven and curse you, Dhritarashtra. Remember what a happy childhood the three of us spent together: let the love we shared as children guide you now.”

Dhritarashtra’s hands shook slightly; but his brother knew him better than anybody did and he noticed the sign at once. Sensing victory, Vidura pressed on.

“My lord, apart from being the way of dharma, what Bheeshma, Drona and I advise is also the most sensible course. The Pandavas are Kurus like us, we want no war with them.” He lowered his voice, “Moreover, the sons of Pandu are invincible. Was it Karna or Arjuna who brought down the spinning fish? Was it Shalya or Bheema who prevailed, Duryodhana or Yudhishtira?

Remember that Drupada, who once routed the Kauravas, is now with the Pandavas and his son Dhrishtadyumna, too. Balarama, Krishna and the Yadavas have allied themselves to their cousins. Dhritarashtra, you know who Krishna is. It would not only be evil, but foolhardy as well to challenge the Pandavas now.”

For some reason, as his brother spoke, the blind king’s mind was filled with a terrible vision of a certain night, many years ago, when his son Duryodhana was born. Once more Dhritarashtra heard the jackals and wolves baying in the streets of Hastinapura; he heard the wing-beats of a million bats, wheeling in black swarms over the palace. He remembered what Vidura said to him on that dreadful night, when the wind howled like a demon through the trees:

“Kill him before it is too late, Dhritarashtra. The omens all cry that your son will be the ruin of this holy land.”

But how could he kill his own son? Now he realized what Vidura had meant and a chill fell on his heart. For once, Dhritarashtra was happy his eyes were blind: that no one could read in them the terror he felt.

Vidura said, “Listen to the sagacity of Bheeshma and Drona; save us all from doom.” He sat down, amidst loud murmurs of approval from everyone in the sabha, except Karna and Duryodhana, who sat with their faces dark, sensing defeat.

The king did not show his panic, by a flicker. He was cornered, helpless but to do what the elders asked. And if truth were told, he was glad of being able to salve his own conscience. Dhritarashtra said, “I endorse whatever Bheeshma, Drona and Vidura have said. I know they speak with my welfare at heart and that of this kingdom. What they say is no less than the truth. We are thrice blessed that we have such counselors, who are the equals of Dasaratha’s son Rama.”

The king was frightened to hear what the people were saying about him: that he was involved in the attempt on the Pandavas’ lives at Varanavrata. He knew whatever he said today would be heard beyond the palace-walls and among the people. How foolish he had been even to think of following the insane counsel of Karna and Duryodhana. Dhritarashtra sensed a perfect chance to redeem himself and he was canny enough to seize it.

“The Pandavas are not just my dead brother’s children, they are like my own sons. They are ceratainly entitled to an equal share of this kingdom. I had already decided that before I called this sabha. I wanted to be certain the rest of you felt as I did. Vidura, there is no one better than you to go to Kampilya to bring our nephews home. Take gold, jewels and the finest silks with you, my brother. Make haste.”

The king rose and swept out of the council, leaving everyone more than a little surprised at the swift turn of events. Duryodhana and Karna left after him, burning with young men’s hot shame.

FIFTY-THREE VIDURA IN KAMPILYA
 

Vidura came to Kampilya and Krishna was already there, with Balarama and the Yadava army. When he saw Vidura came laden with gifts from the Kuru king, Drupada came out of his palace to welcome him. The Panchala king led the visitor into his sabha, where Vidura’s nephews waited for him like five young lions. With them was a Dark One whose presence filled the palace and Vidura’s heart as soon as he saw him.

Yudhishtira ran to his uncle and embraced him. The others followed. Vidura wept as he clasped them to him. He loved them like his own sons; he had missed them and been anxious for them. Talking all at once, in excitement, the Pandavas and their uncle, who had saved their lives, were re-united. Krishna stood by thoughtfully, watching them.

Vidura was introduced formally to Krishna, who bowed to him as an elder. The sage Kuru had the most inexplicable feeling that he knew the Dark One before him: that he had always known him, in dreams and lives gone by. He felt a mysterious surge of joy; Krishna’s black eyes shone at him and they were so knowing.

Vidura ordered the servants who had come with him to fetch the lavish gifts he had brought from Dhritarashtra. Yudhishtira received his quietly, as did Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna.

Vidura said, “I bring Dhritarashtra’s best wishes. My brother asks me to remember him fondly to you all. Bheeshma and Drona send their greetings and their blessings. They say it is our great fortune that you, O Drupada, have become our relative.”

He paused for just a moment, then said blandly, “The Kaurava princes send their greetings as well. Most of all, the people of Hastinapura are overjoyed the Pandavas are alive and married to the most beautiful young woman in the world! They are impatient to have the sons of Pandu return to their father’s kingdom, with their bride. The king is also delighted that you escaped death. He says he cannot wait to see his beloved nephews again and embrace them.”

It took all Vidura’s long experience in the Kuru sabha to keep a straight face as he said this. Krishna, who saw no need for such restraint, smiled broadly at the lie. Bheema’s face was a picture. Arjuna bit his lip and his eyes glittered. Yudhishtira was composed, but when he glanced at Krishna a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Balarama gave a short, cynical laugh, which the rest ignored. Drupada remained impassive, as he had to, being the host.

Vidura went on easily, his eyes also smiling, if not his lips. “The noble Kunti and her sons have been away from their home for many months. Hastinapura eagerly awaits their return. Persuade them to come home with me, my lord.”

Drupada bowed to Vidura. Formally, he said, “The alliance between our two kingdoms brings me also joy. However, dear Vidura, it is not for me to tell the Pandavas if they should return home with you or remain here with us, where they are more than welcome. I think the decision is for Yudhishtira to make. And his cousins, Krishna and Balarama, are here to advise him better than I can.”

Turning to Krishna, who had been silent until now, Drupada asked, “Krishna, what do you say?”

“I think they should go back to Hastinapura.”

The Pandavas were startled. Arjuna stared at Krishna; Yudhishtira seemed troubled. Krishna said, “That is my opinion. But let Drupada decide what you should do.”

Drupada said, “I agree with Krishna. You should return to Hastinapura and see what the future holds for you. Discover what Dhritarashtra truly intends. Besides, Krishna’s concern for the Pandavas is even greater than Yudhishtira’s!”

Krishna was still smiling. “My cousins fear for their safety. I will go with them to Hastinapura and guarantee their wellbeing.”

“If you come with us, we will return to Hastinapura,” said Yudhishtira at once.

Vidura went in to meet Kunti. She cried, “Ah, Vidura! We would have been dead but for you. I say a prayer for you every day.”

Vidura said, “Bheeshma and Drona want your sons back in Hastinapura. The people are ecstatic that the Pandavas are alive. Dhritarashtra has relented, at least since circumstances exposed him. Krishna and Drupada endorse the idea: you and your sons must come home.”

Kunti was grave with concern. “I am not sure it is the wise course. Dhritarashtra and his sons hate my princes. Won’t they try to kill them again?”

“They dare not; the people will rise up against them. They did not expect the people to speak out as they did after the house of lac burned down. They did not think fingers of blame would point at them as openly as they have. Dhritarashtra, at least, has learnt his lesson.

Now Drupada’s daughter is your sons’ wife and Krishna is with them. You must not be afraid. Your sons are princes of destiny; no harm will come to them. They shall soon be lords of the earth.”

And so the Pandavas set out from Kampilya, with Kunti, Krishna and Balarama and with two armies, one of Panchalas and the other of invincible Yadavas. With Draupadi and Vidura, they set out for Hastinapura.