THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (14 page)

Already, there is no kingdom to rival this one. For Bheeshma protects it, Drona and Kripa, Karna, Vivimsati, Aswatthama, Jayadratha, Somadatta and Duryodhana. But just think what the glory of the House of Kuru would be if you added the names of the Pandavas and their sons to those: as it has never been before! If you can bring the Pandavas and the Kauravas together, your fame will be sung in heaven as well as the earth.

Yet, it seems you prefer to court shame and ruin, rather than glory. Tell me, Dhritarashtra, what will this war bring you except the death of your sons?” Now his voice was stern. “And the death of some millions of fighting men and of all these kshatriyas gathered here to perpetrate the madness your son has planned. You have everything to lose by this war and nothing to gain. Look at this court of dharma, defiled by this council met to plot a war between brother and brother, while its elders sit here and do nothing to stop the enormous sin. Never since the Kuru kingdom was founded, in time out of mind, has this sabha seen such shame. This is no sabha anymore, my lord, but a den of vice.

Do not take what I say lightly, because I speak with love. I say to you, return what is his to Yudhishtira. Bring back dharma to your kingdom, which yearns for it. If you don’t make the just choice, this land will be ruined past redemption and with it the world.”

He spoke so gravely that no one dared interrupt him. His words struck all of them deeply and what he said frightened them. At last, Dhritarashtra broke the silence, “Krishna, don’t you realize how helpless I am? I do not rule this land and what I say is of little consequence. My sons are the masters here and they have no regard for my wishes any more. If you can persuade Duryodhana and his brothers and Karna and Shakuni, who wield more power than I do, I will be grateful to you forever.

But I fear your task is hopeless. We have all tried to reason with Duryodhana, to no avail. Bheeshma has tried, Vidura and even Gandhari; and I have, too. He is stubborn and determined to sacrifice us all. Still, if you can succeed where the rest of us failed, no one will be more in your debt than I.”

Duryodhana sat sullen and fierce. Krishna turned to him kindly, “Listen to me, Duryodhana. You are a son of the noblest house in all Bharatavarsha. Why do you behave as if you were born in the streets? Why has your mind turned to such pettiness? What you mean to do will not cover you in honor, as you imagine; it will fetch you eternal infamy. Turn away from this folly, Kshatriya; resume your true nature. Forsake the hatred that consumes you from within. Be the good Duryodhana again, whom the world loves! Perhaps you think it is too late for you to turn back. No man ever falls so low that he is past redemption and least of all a prince with as generous a heart as you have.

This is the hour of an historic decision, Duryodhana. Do you want to be remembered as the man who destroyed the world, or the one who had the courage to save it? For it will take more courage to turn your face away from sin, than it will for you to be obstinate. Choose wisely, Duryodhana and be the bravest kshatriya of the Kuru line. Make your father and your grandfather happy, your gurus and your mother proud. Change the course of destiny; you still can.”

Duryodhana had grown pale and he sat stiller than ever. Krishna went on, his power deeply upon the sabha. “There are three kinds of men in this world, Duryodhana. There are the selfless ones, who seldom leave the path of dharma. Then there are those who seek their own benefit in whatever they do. Even if that is your nature, you should think wisely, of what will profit you. Death surely will not.

If you want to be king in Hastinapura, won’t it be better if you have the Pandavas’ support, rather than their enmity? If you make peace with him, Yudhishtira will crown you yuvaraja of this city; and after your father’s time, you will be king of the Kurus. The Pandavas will be content with Indraprastha and never be a threat to you. And with your cousins on your side, who else will dare challenge you?

Duryodhana’s face twitched in contempt; he exchanged a scornful smile with Karna. Krishna paused, then, his voice softer, said, “There is also the third kind of man. He lives to sin, because nothing else pleases him; his unnatural thirst is satisfied only with blood. Duryodhana, you are not that kind of man, are you? Cast off your old life as a snake does his skin. Emerge anew as a king of truth and make this age the brightest one in history. You hold the future of the world in your palm; only you can save it.”

Bheeshma cried, “Listen to him, Duryodhana, make a new beginning. I beg you! Do it in your mother’s name, for her sake.”

Drona urged, “Krishna speaks the truth, Duryodhana, this can be your moment of greatness. You can do this, my prince; your heart is big enough. Only the first step is hard, the rest will come easily.”

Vidura said, “If you don’t listen to wisdom, it is not yourself you will hurt most, but your mother and father. I pity them, that they will have to survive their eldest son and most likely, all their sons. Who will look after them in their dotage?”

Bheeshma begged him again and Drona as well. Duryodhana had not spoken a word, but only listened grimly to their united entreaty. Vidura said, “Duryodhana, the choice is so simple: between death and life. Why do you hesitate?”

FOURTEEN
DURYODHANA AND KRISHNA 

Though his eyes were restless, Duryodhana had listened patiently to everything Krishna said. Now he rose and addressed Krishna quietly, reasonably. “You spoke eloquently, Krishna and all that you said was for me: all the blame. My father and my grandfather, also, point their fingers at me, as do my Acharyas and my uncle Vidura. I have tried to see your point of view; but I am afraid I cannot, because this is not nearly as simple as you make it out to be.

Let me tell you my version of whatever has happened so far. We asked Yudhishtira to play dice and he agreed readily enough. He enjoys the game, more than I do anyway. We did not force him to play and it was not as if he did not know, from the start, that he was to play against Shakuni.

Yudhishtira lost his kingdom at dice. How do you blame me for that? I did not decide what the stakes would be. I did not sit in my cousin’s place and play rashly for him. It is easy to accuse me; but if you think about it, how am I responsible? Yudhishtira was foolhardy and he was unlucky. How is Duryodhana to blame for that?

This court knows I returned everything he lost to me. But you say it was my fault he came back to play a second time and lost it all once more. How am I responsible for his stupidity that he thought he could play an acknowledged master of dice like Shakuni? And does my cousin wager some thousand gold coins as other kings do? No. He wagers his entire treasury, then his army, then his kingdom and finally, his brothers, himself and his queen! Wasn’t this an emperor’s arrogance? How am I to blame for it? Didn’t I return his brothers and his wife to him? Didn’t I set him free, though he had lost himself to me? Yet, I am to blame.”

Krishna sat smiling faintly, none of the others spoke. The Kaurava continued, “And not only all of you, but my cousins, also, have decided that I am to blame for their misfortunes. Do I control the motions of the planets that I decide what happens to every man on this earth?

They have joined forces with the Panchala king, whom these same Pandavas once attacked for Acharya Drona’s revenge. Now they mean to fight us together. For what? For something they imagine I did to them. I did nothing. Their troubles were of their own making and I am not afraid of Pandu’s sons.” His voice rose, “As long as my conscience is clear, I will never fear them, or anyone else. Why, I would not fear Indra himself. We will not bow to their threats. We have Bheeshma and Drona with us; Kripa, Karna and Aswatthama are with me. No power on earth can stand against these men. And, as for me, when I accept the Pandavas’ challenge I only honor the way of the ksha-triya. My dharma is to fight.

If I must, I will die fighting. Otherwise, I will make a bed of arrows for my enemies to sleep on forever. Isn’t that kshatriya dharma? To fight and either die or be killed. The warrior that dies without bowing his head to his enemy goes straight to heaven. Then why do you ask me to humiliate myself so I can save my life? What will my miserable life be worth if I save it like that? I prefer to die without having submitted in spirit, than to live as less than a king. This is the law every kshatriya is born into and it is the only dharma I acknowledge. I mean to live or die by it, as fate decides.”

He paused and looked around him. Silence still greeted his bold words and the smile still played on Krishna’s lips. Duryodhana drew a breath and resumed, “As for Indraprastha, I know my father gave it to the sons of Pandu, when the Kuru kingdom was divided. I was against what he did then, but I could not say anything. Today, I rule an undivided kingdom; Indraprastha and Hastinapura are mine. And as long as there is life in this body, I will not part with any of my lands.”

Now Duryodhana loomed over the sabha, dominating it darkly. He looked straight at Krishna and said, “Mark my words, Krishna, lodge them in your heart: I will not give the Pandavas a mote of my kingdom, not even what would cover the point of a needle!”

Duryodhana remained staring defiantly at Krishna after he had spoken and it was as if a shadow fell over them all. Then Krishna laughed. It was a terrible laugh, as none of them had heard from him before: at once, a mocking laugh, a sad and wrathful laugh and the Kurus trembled to hear it. Krishna rose, still smiling, but now his eyes were crimson. Somehow, Duryodhana faced the Avatara as he was then. It seemed primeval forces of darkness and light tested each other, as the Yadava and the Kaurava stood with gazes locked across that sabha.

Calmly, Krishna said, “If you really want a bed on a battlefield to lie on forever, you shall have one. You have always got whatever you wanted, haven’t you Duryodhana? So be it then; as you say, let fate take her course. Be strong, O prince, be firm. For in just some days, there will be such a slaughter that you cannot dream of it. And in its bloody midst, you will meet the death you long for. You and all those that are with you.”

Krishna had not raised his voice. He spoke almost sadly, or at least, only with anger born of grief. “You dare tell me you have caused the Pandavas no suffering, that you are not to blame at all for what they endured these thirteen years. You dare. And in this sabha of wise men, who know you since your infancy, who know every sin you have ever committed. Well, let them decide whether any guilt attaches to you or not. I knew how fiercely you would argue today, Duryodhana, how glibly. That is why I came here and not because I had any real hope of convincing you to return to dharma. I am sure all these wise men have heard your clever arguments often enough. Now let them hear another point of view and decide which one is true.

You were consumed by envy when Yudhishtira performed the Rajasuya yagna. Already, you had tried to kill your cousins more than once, because you hated them from the moment they came home out of the wilds. When you saw the wealth of Indraprastha and the splendor of the Mayaa sabha, you could not bear your envy any longer. I am not sure whether it was you or your uncle Shakuni who decided to conquer the Pandavas at a game of dice. Probably Shakuni thought of it; it sounds like what he would prefer, a battle he could not lose. You would have gone to war if the choice were yours, that is more your nature.

Even if the plan was Shakuni’s at first, you embraced it readily enough. You did not protest that it was a perfidious way to quench your envy of the sons of Pandu: to humiliate them, to destroy them if you could. The plan worked well. Yudhishtira accepted your challenge, poor, high-minded king. Exactly as you had calculated, he lost his reason at this game that did not suit him at all. Don’t tell me, Duryodhana, that you believed Yudhishtira stood a chance of winning at dice against Shakuni. Don’t tell me the game was played in friendly spirit with no harm intended. You could have stopped the game, any time you chose; but it was not to stop that you had begun. You did not stop until Yudhishtira had lost everything and his very honor, that day. And you say you are guilty of no crime? Do you take everyone in this sabha for a fool?

As if the game of dice was not enough, you had your brother haul Panchali into this court. He dragged her in by her hair and all these great men heard what you said to her then, your cousins’ wife, how you called her to sit in your lap. And then, your brother, this grinning Dusasana, tried to strip that queen naked in this hallowed sabha.” Krishna’s voice was almost a whisper now, what he said was reverberant. “And you tell me no blame attaches to you and you are an innocent man? Well, I have come here to learn how such a paragon of dharma like you, Duryodhana, chooses to fight a war in which millions shall die, brutally, when Yudhishtira still offers you peace.”

Krishna’s eyes blazed again, “You are no innocent, Duryodhana. You are the most evil man that draws breath in this world. Why do you try to deceive us, or is it yourself you need to deceive? Or do your sins weigh on you so heavily that you no longer know what dharma is? That you no longer see right from wrong, good from evil, darkness from light?”

They all shifted uneasily in their places to hear him; no conscience in that sabha, save Vidura’s, was clear. Krishna said, “Duryodhana, you are beneath contempt,” and fell silent.

Dusasana sprang up and cried angrily, “Duryodhana, you will be forced to make cowardly peace with Yudhishtira. It is clear that Bheeshma, Drona and our own father mean to bind us hand and foot, you, Karna and me and deliver us into this wily Krishna’s hands. Why should you tolerate their speaking to you like this in your own court? Who is Krishna that we must listen to his lofty judgements here? The world knows he is partial to the sons of Kunti. After all, they are his blood and not we!