Read THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 Online
Authors: Ramesh Menon
To console Yudhishtira, Arjuna said, “There is no sin in fighting those who have decided to kill us anyway. Our Pitama, Drona and Kripa know the goodness of your heart and that yours is the way of dharma, but they have cast their lot with Duryodhana. Couldn’t they have joined us instead? We must not falter now. Once the river flows down the mountain where it springs, it must run on into the sea. The river does not turn back and neither can we. Don’t grieve any more, my noble brother, but sleep now. Tomorrow is a momentous day and you must be strong for all our sakes.”
Krishna’s heart was full of thoughts too deep to plumb. As always, he was alone with them.
AUM, I bow down to Narayana, the most exalted Nara and to the Devi Saraswathi and say
Jaya\
To the west of the field of Kurukshetra was the Pandava army, facing east, where the sun rose, facing the sea-like Kaurava legions. On the banks of the Saraswati and the lake called Samantapanchaka, Yudhishtira’s soldiers swarmed. When the sun rose on the momentous morning, it lit a shining white parasol at the heart of the Kaurava force and coursed a thrill through the Pandava legions. It was Duryodhana’s sovereign parasol. Even as a lover’s blood quickens to see his beloved, the kshatriyas quickened at the fierce spectacle of their enemies and at the imminence of war. What other excitement was there on earth to compare with this one? Arjuna and Krishna saw the white parasol unfurled and raised their conches and blew on them: dawn thunder! The Kauravas replied at once with blasts of their own, loud cheering and ferocious shouts and Kurukshetra reverberated with the aggression of ten million kshatriyas.
The air was electric, when a formal meeting of some commanders of the two armies was called on neutral ground to lay down honorable conditions before the fighting began; so the war would be a righteous one, a dharma yuddha. They agreed that only peers should fight: archers would fight archers, warriors in chariots would fight other rathikas, mace-fighters would battle mace-fighters, swordsmen other swordsmen and so on. If any warrior withdrew during battle, or fled, he would be allowed to go unharmed and not pursued or shot in the back. If an attack was with words, so, too, would the reply be and not with arrows. No one who was unprepared or afraid would be attacked.
Flag-bearers, conch-blowers, drummers and their chariots, horses and elephants would never be harmed. There were other codes of honor, agreed upon and declared, which must be adhered to without exception. War might be a brutal contention, but it was a sacred thing as well. Once they agreed upon the laws for a dharma yuddha, the various commanders of the two forces withdrew to their camps.
At dead of dark, the previous night, Vyasa came to his son Dhritarashtra. That king sat alone and forlorn, faced with the inexorable conclusion of his long folly. He leapt up in alarm when Vyasa entered.
“Hah! Who is it at this hour?”
“It is I, your father.”
Vyasa sat down beside his son and took his hand in compassion. Sighing, he said, “Don’t blame yourself too much, it is the nature of the times. Savage days are upon us and there will be a massacre such as the earth has not yet seen; finally, dharma will prevail
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. There is nothing you can do now to save your sons. They will all perish and the vain kshatriyas who have allied themselves to Duryodhana.” He felt Dhritarashtra’s hand tremble. Kindly, he asked, “Would you witness this war, Dhritarashtra? If you want, I can give your eyes vision.”
Dhritarashtra shivered at the thought. He whispered, “My lord, I have been blind all these years and I would not have my sight restored just to see the deaths of my sons. All my life my ears have been like my eyes. I will be satisfied if someone describes the war to me.”
There was a knock on the door and, as if by fate, Sanjaya entered his king’s chambers. Vyasa said, “Sanjaya will describe the war to you. I bless him with vision that only great rishis have. He will see the battle miraculously, every sword-stroke, every arrow loosed, every slaying and each death. More, he will know the warriors’ very thoughts; and be it day or night, he will see everything that happens on Kurukshetra.
Each morning, he will travel subtly to the battle’s edge and from there have use of his occult vision. No weapon will touch him, or tiredness lay its hand upon him. Every night, he will return to you and describe all that transpired. Sanjaya, you will never know tiredness and your memory will be like a God’s.” Vyasa sighed. “But you will seldom bring news to your king to gladden his heart. You will see all his sons killed, as the omens of the earth and the air cry out. You will bring Dhritarashtra word of how the Pandavas raze the army of Hastinapura and the torment of each day’s news shall be expiation for your king’s sins.”
The muni said more gently, “And in your time of anguish, remember that dawn comes after the night’s darkest yaama. The worst sinner finds redemption and the hour of retribution is the time when his Salvation begins. You, too, will find your peace, though you must first pass through fire to be purified. Remember that, when grief threatens to break your heart.”
Vyasa embraced his blind son. He passed his hands over Sanjaya’s eyes, blessed the sarathy as well and left. The next morning, Sanjaya stood on the field of Kurukshetra in a spirit body, light as air and with magic vision flooding his eyes, he saw all the happenings of the first day of the war. That day, Soma approached the realm of the manes
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. The seven large planets blazed as if they were on fire. The face of the Sun seemed to be bisected.
From now, it is from Sanjaya, the witness, that we hear about the Mahabharata yuddha, the war at the end of an age
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.
Sanjaya said to his king, Dhritarashtra:
‘Your son Duryodhana formed his legions into a fighting vyuha. He called his brother Dusasana and said, “Our first task is to protect Pitama Bheeshma’s chariot. He, by himself, will bring us victory. Let him be guarded by our best kshatriyas. There is only one enemy that our grandfather needs fear: Drupada’s son Shikhandi. Let our warriors kill Shikhandi as quickly as they can. And then who will stand before Bheeshma? I hear Arjuna watches over Shikhandi. Drupada’s sons Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas ride beside Arjuna. We must be careful of that force. Go my brother; take our boldest men, protect Bheeshma with your life!”
The day’s sun was still young and crimson on the horizon, when ten aksauhinis of the Kaurava force, six million men, were marshaled into an awesome vyuha of war, with ten commanders to lead them. The eleventh legion was deployed ahead of these ten and Bheeshma himself had charge of it. Yoked to a silver chariot, Bheeshma’s horses were as white as wave-froth. His banner bore a golden palm-tree with five stars above it. His hair was blemishlessly white, he wore white silk upon his body; and to look at him in his chariot, it seemed a full moon had risen upon the earth. The Pandava soldiers gazed at Bheeshma and were afraid.
The Kuru patriarch stood up in his chariot and spoke to his army; his voice was like the sea at night. “The gates of heaven have yawned open to welcome those who die in battle! I say to all of you, fight with no thought for tomorrow. Let your courage rule you, for glory is in store for every man here. A warrior does not wish for a peaceful death in his bed, of old age, or illness. He longs to die in battle! Know, then, mighty warriors, that for you there is no defeat on the field of war. For either dying nobly, you will find Devaloka, or victorious, you will inherit the earth! There is no defeat for those who fight; but only heaven or victory. So tell me, my friends, are you prepared to die?”
Like an ocean, they roared back, “We are!”
Only Karna did not answer Bheeshma. He had sworn he would not fight as long as the Kuru patriarch did. The aksauhini Bheeshma had chosen to be at the van of his army was Aswatthama’s. Bhoo-risravas and Shalya were part of that legion and seven exceptional kshatriyas formed a ring around Bheeshma to protect him against Shikhandi.
Duryodhana set his chariot at the heart of his army. His banner fluttered in the early breeze, with its black serpent embroidered on golden cloth.
Seeing the Kaurava legions in battle array, Yudhishtira turned to Arjuna. “Duryodhana has eleven aksauhinis to our seven and only now I realize how much bigger than ours his army is. Arjuna, my brother, the enemy is formidable. How do you mean to deploy our men against Bheeshma?”
Arjuna replied serenely, “We will form our men into a Vajra, a diamond phalanx. Indra uses this vyuha; it is both a fluid and an impregnable formation, which maneuvers more quickly than any other.”
The Pandava army, of four millions, moved forward to face the Kaurava legions. Dhrishtadyumna was at the head of that force and Bheema was at his side. Yudhishtira rode at the heart of the diamond and Satyaki patrolled its right flank. A murmur went up from the Kaurava soldiers when they saw Arjuna ride out to take his place at Shikhandi’s side. The banner of Hanuman flew above Arjuna’s chariot. To keep his promise to Bheema, the legendary vanara had come to animate his image on the silken cloth: the form on the banner was alive; its eyes moved and saw everything!
Arjuna’s pale horses, given him by Chitraratha the gandharva, shimmered in the early light. But none of these was the most lustrous feature of Arjuna’s ratha, not even the kshatriya himself with the Gandiva in his hand like an arc of the moon. No, the sight of his sarathy drew a gasp from the Kau-rava legions. With the reins in his left hand and a whip in his right, Krishna was like a dark sun risen on that field of fate.
Seeing Krishna and Arjuna
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in their chariot, Drona and Kripa knew this was no less than a vision of Nara Narayana they saw before them. In their hearts, they worshipped the vision.
Krishna brought Varuna’s chariot to the front of the Pandava army. Softly he said, “Be strong now, Arjuna. Bheeshma is the lion we must face first. It is him we must hunt, he is the one you must kill.”
When the two forces were face to face, a hush fell on them: a moment of stillness. All eighteen aksauhinis were like armies in a painting. Then, at the heart of that numinous silence, a strange thing happened. Yudhishtira peeled off his armor and put down his bow. He removed his sandals, climbed down from his chariot with the white banner and walked barefoot toward the enemy!
For a moment, no one moved. Then Bheema, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva all laid down their weapons and followed their brother. Krishna, who wore no armor and carried no weapon today, went with Arjuna.
When he caught up with Yudhishtira, Arjuna said anxiously, “What are you doing?”
Bheema asked hoarsely, “Where are you going, Yudhishtira, without your weapons?”
Nakula said, “You are making me afraid, my brother!”
And Sahadeva, “You are exposing yourself to the enemy!”
Yudhishtira did not look at his brothers. He strode on toward the Kaurava army. Krishna said quietly, “A kshatriya who seeks his elders’ blessings before he goes out to fight is certain to win his war. Your brother wants to get Bheeshma, Drona, Kripa and Shalya’s blessings, before he fights them.”
The Kaurava soldiers began to jeer when they saw Yudhishtira coming.
“He is coming to beg his Pitama to stop the war.”
“He has lost his nerve, seeing our army.”
“The coward.”
Yudhishtira walked on toward Bheeshma’s chariot. The ring of warriors around Bheeshma parted to let the Pandavas through. Bheeshma waited for Yudhishtira with a smile. The Pandava emperor, Dharma’s son, noblest of men, came up to his grandsire and, with tears in his eyes, prostrated himself on the earth at the patriarch’s feet; and so did his brothers. His old eyes teary, as well, Bheeshma laid his hands on their heads, then, raised them up and embraced them.
Yudhishtira said, “Pitama, we have not been able to prevent the war. I have come for your blessing, so my brothers and I will win.”
Bheeshma said, “My son, victory already belongs to you. Krishna is on your side and where he is so is dharma. Alas, men are slaves to wealth and I must fight against you today. The throne I renounced a life ago has supported me all these years. My duty is to fight for the king who has kept me; but Yudhishtira, my love and my blessings are with you, because yours is the cause of dharma in this war. Jaya vijayi bhava! Fight and be victorious, noble child.”
Yudhishtira went to Drona and Kripa, his gurus and to his uncle Shalya. He prostrated himself before each of them and asked for their blessing and their permission for him to fight them. They gave both to the Pandava, warmly. To Drona, Yudhishtira said, “My lord, besides your blessing, I seek your advice. How can I win this war?”
Drona said, “King of dharma, victory is already yours. I hate to fight against you, but I, too, owe my livelihood to the Kuru throne. I cannot betray the king who has kept me these long years. Yet I do have some advice for you.” He called Yudhishtira nearer. In a low voice, he said, “I myself can only be killed when I lay down my weapons; it is a boon I have from my guru. Remember that when my time to die arrives, as it must during this war.”