Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (24 page)

When balladeers sing of war, they sing of glory. They do not sing of its stench.

From the very first charge, it is clear the fighting will be more intense. It is as if Drona has vowed to end the war today.

Once again, Yudhistira is the focus. Drona himself is absent from my brother’s sector, but I note a concentration of troops there.

Leaving Drishtadyumna, Satyaki and Arjuna to protect Yudhistira, I move across the front with a group, attacking the enemy flanks at will.

It is as I am returning to Yudhistira that Bhagadatta clashes with me. Seeing me unprotected in my chariot, he charges on Supratika.

Arrayed around him are six of Duryodhana’s brothers, three on each side. Visoka evades the charge, then drives wide to give me distance.

I begin from the left. First, the Kaurava brothers. Then Bhagadatta.

Durjaya, Durmukha and Durmarshana fall without much of a fight. I cross over to the right flank, at a respectful distance from Supratika.

It is just as my fifth cousin, Durmada, collapses that Arjuna approaches me. He insists I leave Bhagadatta to him and return to Yudhistira.

Arjuna had moved away to respond to an attack by Trigartha. But that was some time ago.

‘Drishtadyumna and Abhimanyu are with Yudhistira,’ Arjuna says. ‘But I have not seen Drona, which worries me. There must be some plan!’

Sensing danger, I rush back. I see Satyaki and his men fighting a pitched battle when I return. Drishtadyumna seems to have moved away.

I scan for Yudhistira’s flag, with the sign of a golden moon. I do not see it.

Swallowing my panic, I look around. I sigh when I notice his chariot in the distance, slowly making its way to the camp. Visoka follows.

Yudhistira is still sitting in his chariot when we arrive. He looks dazed. It is his charioteer who gives us the devastating news.

Abhimanyu is gone.

I feel as if trampled by Supratika. Abhimanyu dead! How?

The face Yudhistira raises is wet with tears. ‘Poor boy!’ he says, ‘I am responsible for his death!’

Impatiently, I turn to the charioteer for details. But it is only later, after Satyaki returns, that I begin to piece together what happened.

Drona had waited for Arjuna to leave, then emerged to attack Yudhistira’s flank himself to draw Drishtadyumna away.

As Drona and Drishtadyumna moved away, the Kauravas reorganized their troops into a circular formation, the Chakravyuha.

Faced with it in Arjuna’s absence, our troops floundered. It is not easy to breach the maze of concentric rings that make up the formation.

Fearing the formation would change to encircle them, Satyaki had ordered Yudhistira to the rear. It was then that Abhimanyu came forward.

He knew how to breach the circle. Arjuna had taught him.

Yudhistira hesitated, but gave in to the boy’s enthusiasm. Satyaki and Drupada with their men would support Abhimanyu, protect his flanks.

But as Abhimanyu entered the circle, Jayadratha had quickly sealed the breach, blocking off Satyaki and Drupada.

That was the last our troops saw of Abhimanyu—trapped in a maze behind enemy lines, with only a few soldiers to support him.

As the evening progresses, our spies bring news of Abhimanyu’s death in the maze. Even the Kaurava balladeers are singing about him.

Abhimanyu had pressed on into the circle. When the soldiers with him were killed, he fought alone.

In a battle that pitted youth against age and overwhelming numbers, Abhimanyu killed many. King Vrindaraka was the first to be slain.

Salya and his men then took over the attack. Abhimanyu killed Salya’s son and brother, and wounded Salya so badly that he fell unconscious.

Dushasana and Duryodhana were then seen challenging Abhimanyu. But both had pulled back very quickly into their protective circles.

Even Karna could not best him. Faced with Abhimanyu’s unerring arrows, the Kaurava hero had retreated bleeding.

By the time Drona disengaged from Drishtadyumna and returned to the circle, Abhimanyu had run out of arrows and lost his charioteer.

He had jumped to the ground and fought on with his sword. Brihadbala, the king of Khosala, tried to stop his charge and was slain.

Finally, when Abhimanyu fell exhausted, someone had smashed his head.

A bastion of elders against a sixteen-year-old. Righteous war indeed.

I look at Arjuna, slumped in a corner. Next to him sits an ashen-faced Krishna. When death strikes near, philosophy offers no protection.

Feeling my eyes on him, Yudhistira looks up. He has been quiet all evening.

‘I should not have allowed it,’ he says. ‘But when they challenged us with that formation… I— it was our duty to respond!’

I cannot contain myself. Duty! This was the same argument Yudhistira had used when he sat down at the accursed dice table with Shakuni.

Anguish fuelling my anger, I ask, ‘Where does it say in your rule book that if one person makes a circle, the other must breach it?

‘Duty is what you decide it to be! Who says we must sacrifice just to show valour?

‘War is not a game, not an act of honour! Only fools think so! Did you not lecture me, brother, that war is an act of failed statecraft?

‘With all of us absent, in all your wisdom, did it not occur to you to simply retreat?’

‘Stop, Bhima!’ Krishna says. ‘Wisdom in hindsight is pointless. It helps no one.’

Struggling to control his tone, he continues, ‘All who go to war must be prepared for loss. We must learn from it, not be consumed by it.’

In no mood for a philosophy lecture, I walk towards the exit. I hear Satyaki say as I leave, ‘If Jayadratha had not sealed off the breach…’

Visoka is waiting with meat and liquor at my tent. I swallow the food mechanically and have just begun to drink when Drishtadyumna arrives.

‘We must draw away the main warriors tomorrow,’ he says, accepting the skin of liquor I offer. ‘Arjuna will need all the help he can get!’

Seeing my uncomprehending look, he says, ‘I came to tell you about the senseless vow your brother has taken.’

Hearing it was Jayadratha who trapped Abhimanyu, Arjuna has sworn to kill the Sindhu king before sundown—or he will take his own life.

Drishtadyumna speaks angrily about Arjuna’s foolishness. How easy it is to hide a man in an army! Had we not done that with Yudhistira?

‘Besides, why blame Jayadratha? The man is a scoundrel, but cutting off an enemy’s retreat is what any sane warrior would do!’

Drishtadyumna sits for a long time without talking. Then he gets up to leave.

‘There is no place for recklessness in war,’ he says. ‘The sooner some of us learn that, the better!’

What did Krishna say about Arjuna’s vow, I ask.

‘Oh, he tried to stop him. Now he has called for the astrologers! Maybe they will tell him where Jayadratha will hide tomorrow!’

After he leaves, I go out into the dark. Slowly I make my way to the river, along the path Abhimanyu had walked with me on many nights.

I remember his youthful voice, his excited assessment of that day’s battle. I will not hear that again.

When Uttara had fallen, I had felt for Virata. But now I feel death closer, in a way I have never felt it before.

A noise from the bank breaks into my thoughts. Someone is sitting there, watching the Hiranvati flow in the dark. Ghatotkacha.

He gets up. We stand side by side, my son and I, lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Ghatotkacha stirs.

‘He called me brother,’ my son says. ‘The only one of your crowd to do so.’ I say nothing.

‘They surrounded him like jackals. Your elders and teachers, they think of us as animals, but they are worse than us!’

Ghatotkacha smiles mirthlessly.

‘I hear they are preparing for war at night? I cannot wait. There is no better protection for us than the dark.

‘Let the animals come! The night is our day. We will hunt.’

THE NEXT DAY

EPISODE 34

TWEETS 64

As the first rays of the sun break through the eastern sky, Arjuna surveys the battle formation Drona has arranged to protect Jayadratha.

Shakatavyuha. The cart phalanx. Somewhere in this solid, square box is his quarry.

My brother’s face is carved in stone, except for his bloodshot eyes that restlessly flit across the enemy line, assessing, calculating.

I look at Krishna. It is clear he too has not slept much.

Drishtadyumna had predicted the enemy would be arrayed in the cart formation. He had also asked Yudhistira to position himself securely.

‘The war will be over if Yudhistira is exposed,’ he said. ‘Drona will target him, especially now that our attention is focussed elsewhere.’

Today, Satyaki is guarding my elder brother. Drishtadyumna has asked me not to stray far either. The rest will support Arjuna.

As our men crash into the formidable wall Drona has erected, the Kauravas put up a strong defence. Jayadratha is nowhere to be seen.

Leaving Yudhistira and Satyaki in the second line, I surge ahead behind Arjuna.

My brother stands tall in his chariot, deft fingers distributing metal-tipped revenge from the Gandiva in a way I never thought possible.

When Arjuna unleashes the fire arrows, there is panic in the enemy ranks. Our ground troops use the confusion to batter their formation.

Leaping down from the chariot, I join in the mayhem. I spot one of the Kaurava brothers in the melee, engaging Arjuna but briefly.

For a short while I hear the mesmerizing song of Arjuna’s bowstring. Then, when I look up, he is gone. Drona’s first line lies in tatters.

With Nakula and Sahadeva, I fall upon the Kaurava troops, giving them no chance to regroup. Today, we slaughter to avenge Abhimanyu.

At one point I see Yudhistira rushing with unexpected fury at Salya. My elder brother matches the more experienced warrior arrow for arrow.

Realizing the danger of Yudhistira continuing on the frontline for too long, I persuade him to leave Salya to me.

Drishtadyumna has moved farther away by the time Salya retreats. I see his chariot through a cloud of dust, cutting deeper into enemy lines.

The sun climbs high, then begins its descent rapidly.

Yudhistira looks at me anxiously when I ride up to him. Through the day, messengers have kept him abreast of news from the various fronts.

‘Not much time left!’ he says. ‘The sun sets early today!’

When I look at him, he adds impatiently, ‘Dakshinayana. Today marks the end of summer solstice!’

I realize why Krishna had summoned the astrologers the night before. At least he has a more accurate idea of dusk fall than any of us.

Drona has created a formation within the formation, which Arjuna is trying to break into.

It is almost certain Jayadratha is inside the second formation. The Panchala princes Yuddhamanyu and Uttamaujas are with Arjuna.

Drishtadyumna too is nearby, engaging Drona’s division, though their battle seems to be taking him away from Arjuna’s forces.

Cautioning Yudhistira to position himself securely and not do anything foolish, I ride back, telling Visoka to find Drishtadyumna’s flag.

The light is beginning to fail when we sight Drishtadyumna’s men. Even as we approach, I sense something is wrong.

Cutting through a ring of ground troops, I come to a still chariot. On the deck lies a boy, his throat pierced by a single arrow.

Kshatradharma, Drishtadyumna’s son. Another sacrifice to the gods of war.

From the furious attack Drishtadyumna is launching on Drona, it is clear who is responsible for the death. I rush to assist the Panchala.

Two chariots cut across my path. My cousins. Perfect targets for my anger!

I leap out of the chariot. Wrenching the wheel of a destroyed vehicle, I send it spinning at the enemy on the left.

Catching it in his midriff, the Kaurava crumbles against his flagpole like a broken bamboo shoot. Roaring, I jump into the second chariot.

When I crush his neck with the metal of his own bow, my cousin lets out a gargling scream. Blood spurts with his last breath.