THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (67 page)

The chariots face each other. A stirring breeze has sprung up on Kurukshetra and like death’s herald, strokes Karna and Arjuna. For a long time, they stand still in their rathas, not a muscle moving, staring at each other in a contention of wills. The two warriors are relieved that at last this moment has arrived. Not both of them would survive the duel to come and the one who did would never fight another like it.

Queerly light-headed, Karna says to Shalya, “My lord, I think I shall win today. But if I don’t, O king, what will you do?”

Shalya turns his head and Karna is startled to see his eyes moist. Shalya says, “Karna, you are the best archer on earth. I am sure you will win. But if fate runs against you and you should lose, why, I will kill Arjuna and Krishna to avenge you.”

Thus, solemnly, speaks Shalya, who had practically been Karna’s enemy before this day. In Shalya’s change of heart, Karna feels he has some redress for all the years he was slighted by the kshatriyas of the world.

Across from them, in the other chariot, Arjuna says to Krishna, “I hope I can kill Karna, my lord. But if I am killed instead, what will you do?”

Krishna turns back to look at his archer and his eyes are as deep as midnight. A smile touches the dark sarathy’s lips, he says quietly, “The sun may fall out of the sky, but you will not fail today. Fire may turn cold, but Arjuna will prevail.” He pauses and then, softer than ever, adds, “And if somehow Karna kills you, then be certain the end of this world has come. Karna and Shalya shall die, I will tear them apart with my hands. Why, Arjuna, I will burn up this earth.” Arjuna shivers to hear him; he has no doubt Krishna will do as he says. His charioteer smiles again, “But it won’t come to that, Arjuna. I know it.”

Some way off, Aswatthama sees Karna and Arjuna tensed for battle. He hears silence fallen on Kurukshetra, every other contention stopped. A wave of pity, for all the men come here to kill and die, overwhelms him. At his side, in the same chariot, Duryodhana still sobs for Dusasana. Aswat-thama takes the Kaurava’s hand and says fervently, “Stop the war now, Duryodhana! Make peace, it is still not too late. My father died for this war, Bheeshma has fallen for it. Dusasana died and so many of your brothers. Stop it, before Karna is also killed.

The Pandavas are men of dharma; they are your cousins. I will go to Arjuna and say that you want peace. Krishna will be delighted. The truth is they cannot kill me and they cannot kill Kripa. But you can still lose the war and then everything will be as ashes. Enough blood has been spilt. Let Arjuna and Karna live as friends, both jewels of the Kuru Empire.

Yudhishtira won’t refuse an offer of peace. He hates this slaughter, anyway and the others will listen to him. Save your life, Duryodhana; save so many lives. Why, save your soul! You know I love you, my friend; why, I love you more than I do anyone else in the world. Now I am afraid for you. Karna will die if he fights Arjuna. It cannot be otherwise, as long as Krishna is Arjuna’s sarathy. How much grief weighs already upon your spirit; you will not be able to bear it if Karna is killed. I beg you, send me to the Pandavas now! Offer them an honorable peace.”

Duryodhana smiles grimly at his boyhood friend. “Everything you say is true, Aswatthama and I am grateful to you. But it is too late and has been for some time. Look where Dusasana lies, his heart torn out by the beast. How can I offer peace to that monster and his brothers? Aswatthama, my friend, it is not we who decide these things, but fate. We are her playthings, her means to achieve inscrutable ends. Karna always says that we have no armor to protect us against fate and he is right. I thank you for your love, but we have come too far to turn back. This war will be fought until the last man on one side is dead.”

Duryodhana tells his charioteer to take them to where Arjuna and Karna face each other. All the Kaurava legions have gathered behind Karna and the Pandava army behind Arjuna. Solemnly Karna raises the Vijaya above his head. Arjuna, too, lifts the Gandiva aloft. Both armies blow conches and shout their warrior’s names, until earth and sky resound with ‘Arjuna! Arjuna! Jaya! Jaya!’ and ‘Karna! Karna! Jaya! Jaya!’

In a moment, the duel begins
¹
. At first, they fight with common arrows and lances, unhurriedly, each one settling into the battle, feeling his adversary out. Yet, already, their archery is breathtaking! Those who watch see their bodies become lustrous and their weapons shine. It is not that no other kshatriya on Kurukshetra can match what Karna and Arjuna do; but surely none with such ease and grace. Many soldiers wish this duel would go on forever. It is like great music.

With no warning, Arjuna summons an agneyastra and shoots it at Karna. Sheets of white flames blow at Karna’s chariot. Quicker than seeing, Karna summons a varunastra and a hundred showers douse the flames. Thick smoke billows there and darkness falls. Arjuna invokes a vayavyastra to blow the smoke away with a scented breeze.

With a growl, Arjuna chants the mantra for a more powerful weapon: the aindrastra. It drifts up from his bow and hangs in the air. From it, thousands of arrows whistle down at Karna and the Kau-rava army behind him. A thousand Kaurava soldiers fall each moment and it seems Duryodhana’s army will be razed.

The thunder of Karna’s bowstring rocks Kurukshetra. He looses a silver shaft charged with the bhargavastra. That weapon flashes up into the sky and puts out the aindrastra, so it falls away spent. The bhargavastra hangs fire in the sky and banks of arrows scream down from it, killing thousands of Pandava soldiers.

A cheer goes up from Duryodhana’s legions, Karna’s name rings across Kurukshetra. Above the deafening noise, Arjuna hears Bheema’s angry voice. “The enemy laughs at you, Arjuna. Tell me if you can’t fight this man and I will kill him with a blow of my mace!”

Krishna echoes Bheema, “It seems we will never break out of the mantle Karna wraps us in. What is the matter with you, Arjuna? Why do you hesitate?”

Now, the strangest thing happens in the Pandava’s chariot enveloped in Karna’s shroud. Krishna speaks to Arjuna as Narayana to Nara.

“Have you forgotten who you are? Don’t you remember how you killed the Asura Dambodhbhava once? Here he is again, he has returned as Karna. Don’t stay your hand, Kshatriya; this enemy is more ancient and powerful than you understand. He has come across ten lives to have revenge. Use the brahmastra, Arjuna, or you will die. Rouse your slumbering self, kill Karna!”

Fantastic vision is upon Arjuna! He sees another life and the deep reasons why Karna confronts him on Kurukshetra today. Shaking off the stupor of the bhargavastra, he invokes the brahmastra. A molten arrow flies up and unfurls in ten thousand golden shafts. Still, the bhargavastra resists the brahmastra.

The veil of arrows that covered Arjuna’s chariot falls away. No more shafts fly down at the Pan-dava army, as, gradually, the brahmastra absorbs the bhargavastra. No soldier can look up into the sky where the two missiles are locked.

Meanwhile, Arjuna and Karna shoot at each other again, a hundred common arrows every moment. The astras above extinguish one another and an emboldened Arjuna covers Karna’s chariot in a blaze of silver shafts. A gasp goes up from the Kaurava legions, they are certain Karna is slain. Then, like the sun rising after night’s final yaama, the resplendent Suryaputra stands forth again and Arjuna’s darkness of arrows falls away around him.

Karna looses another astra at Arjuna, who knows the weapon with which to quiet it. Kurukshetra is full of spirit presences, of the lords of the astras. In his tent, Yudhishtira hears that Karna and Arjuna are dueling. Despite the agony in his body where Karna struck him, he drives out to watch the fateful encounter.

The Devas gather above Kurkshetra in invisible vimanas. Indra and Surya almost fight over the battle between their sons. Karna dominates the field of dharma. He not only holds Arjuna off, but sends an occasional teasing shaft at Bheema who stands watching, breathlessly, his eyes bulging. Beyond the two warring kshatriyas, their thermal arrows immolate columns of soldiers. Yet not a man stirs from his place; they will rather die than miss this duel.

Silence rules Kurukshetra, except for the thunder of the strings of the Gandiva and the Vijaya and the whistling of a hundred incredible shafts that fly from them, each impossible moment. Now and again, when one of them surpasses himself for a breathless instant, a cheer goes up from this army or the other.

Suddenly, Karna severs Arjuna’s bowstring. Quick as a thought, Arjuna replaces it and is about to raise the Gandiva again, when, with uncanny aim, Karna breaks the Pandava’s bowstring yet again. Quick as light, Arjuna strings the Gandiva afresh and raises his bow once more. Yet again, Karna snaps his string with an unerring shaft. This happens no less than eleven times! Karna feels a surge of love for this implacable brother of his. The twelfth time, Karna does not sever Arjuna’s bowstring, but shoots five scorching narachas at Krishna. In a split second, Arjuna strings his bow and slices those five serpentine shafts along their lengths.

The duel nears its crescendo; each moment of it is like an hour of any other. The brothers fight at the very ends of their skill and endurance, at death’s threshold.

NINE
THE MIRED WHEEL 

Once he sloughs off his first hesitation, Arjuna fights exceptionally. Faced with the only real rival—Karna, who even Krishna said was better than him—Arjuna’s archery becomes a mystic thing. So absorbed is the Pandava, he is hardly aware of what he does. The Gandiva is like part of his body, his very soul. Together, bow and bowman are one being: godlike!

All the Kaurava warriors who stood around Karna, guarding his flanks and rear, flee. Many are killed by Arjuna’s luminous volleys. Duryodhana roars at the deserters, but nothing can persuade them to go back.

Karna is hard-pressed to keep the Pandava from burying him in a night of arrows from which he will never emerge. He cuts down as many shafts as he can; they flow at him endlessly, many finding their mark on either Shalya or himself. Karna has no inexhaustible quivers like his antagonist. There comes a time when the Kaurava soldiers can no longer see their Senapati, or anything around him. He is hidden in a perfect darkness of arrows: Arjuna hides the face of the sun.

Fighting for his life now, Karna knows the moment has arrived when he must either kill Arjuna or die. At darkness’ heart, Karna briefly longs for Indra’s Shakti; but the Shakti had returned to the Deva, after it killed Ghatotkacha. His death drawn so near he can reach out and touch it, Karna summons the last weapon he has left with which he can still win this duel. From its scented case, Karna draws the nagastra. Chanting its mantra, which perhaps five warriors on earth know, he fixes the glimmering missile to his bowstring. Already, it seethes and hisses like a cobra disturbed in its nest. Emerald scales cover that weapon; fangs yawn at its snake’s-head, below lidless eyes that gaze plainly at Kurukshetra. Karna aims at Arjuna’s throat, he means to cut his head from his body.

Karna is plunged in the night of arrows and Arjuna cannot see what he is doing. He does not see the nagastra in Karna’s hands; he doesn’t see him fit it to his bowstring. Shalya says to his warrior, “Don’t aim at his throat, you might miss. At least, send another shaft at his heart.”

Karna replies, “A warrior never changes his aim. A real archer never doubts himself, that he must shoot a second arrow. Karna never misses his mark.”

He draws the Vijaya’s string to his ear and, blinded, Arjuna shades his eyes. Karna cries to his inveterate enemy, “Take a good look at the world, Arjuna, this is the last moment of your life!”

A bolt of lightning, the nagastra streaks across Kurukshetra, spitting green fire. A cry goes up from the Pandava soldiers, they are sure Arjuna will die. Karna is certain his aim is true. Shalya, watching, thinks Arjuna is a dead man. Arjuna himself sees the macabre weapon flash at him out of the darkness with which he has covered Karna and he can do nothing against the astra. For that moment, Arjuna also thinks he will die.

They have all reckoned without a blue charioteer. Krishna sees the nagastra; he sees it presciently even before Karna shoots it. As soon as the green thing flares at his kshatriya’s throat, Krishna jerks on his reins. He forces his gandharva steeds down on their knees! In a moment’s core, those horses kneel and the chariot tilts forward a hand’s length. The nagastra flashes true to its mark, but Arjuna’s throat is a hand’s length lower than it had been. The emerald arrow whisks the jeweled crown that Indra gave him from his head and leaves a deep scratch; otherwise, it does not harm the Pandava.

Arjuna feels as if he has died and been reborn. Wild cheering breaks out among the Pandava foot-soldiers. The howl on Bheema’s lips is stanched and a yell of joy issues from him instead. Color flushes back into Yudhishtira’s face, which had gone pale as death in that awful moment. A sigh like a serpent’s comes from Karna: that moment, despite the odds of dharma, victory might have been his. Now, all is lost. He has no other weapon like the nagastra, none that can kill Arjuna. The Suryaputra also knows the Pandava would have been dead except for his sarathy. Then, he had always known that, no matter what, Krishna was always with Arjuna: so, he, Karna, could never win this duel.

Yudhishtira’s heart had stopped beating for that life long moment. Flushed himself, Arjuna darts a grateful smile at Krishna, who is as unruffled as ever, just his eyes a shade brighter. The Pandava ties up his long hair and the scratch on his scalp with a white scarf and he has recovered enough to resume battle.