The Mahabharata (8 page)

Drona was even more emphatic. “I know what Arjuna can accomplish. I know Drupada and his growing might. His son is no ordinary warrior. I have seen him. I know him. They are building up an invincible camp. Many others will also be joining them soon. Krishna from Dwaraka was also seen there with them. He will bring in the Yadavas and many others to their side. Krishna by himself will be their chief support soon—you will see it. Krishna is no ordinary mortal, remember…. Don't let your past error continue and take you down the path of annihilation.”

His forthright talk was not to the Kauravas' taste. Later Karna said, “Don't listen to Drona, though he is our master. What does he know of statecraft? He is concerned only with the art of war and nothing else. Bhishma and Vidura, you know, are the Pandava agents in our midst. The wisest course for us would be to take an army and destroy Drupada, and with him also the Pandavas. No other course is open to us. It is said in all our shastras that quick action and force alone can eliminate a threat. Before Drupada grows even stronger, we must act.”

In these conflicting counsels Dhritarashtra was bewildered. After much wavering, he called Vidura and said finally, “You must go to Panchala and convey my greetings
to Drupada. Invite Yudhistira and his brothers to return home with their bride, and we will settle the question of their future so that the cousins may live in peace with each other.”

Vidura went to Panchala carrying presents to the King and his family. He was received cordially and seated in a place of honour. He formally conveyed the greetings from Dhritarashtra and his sons, and invited the Pandavas to return to Hastinapura. As he listened, Yudhistira looked at his brothers, but they waited for him to decide. Yudhistira's mind was filled with misgivings. How could they again trust their uncle at Hastinapura, whose weakness for his sons was notorious? Vidura was perhaps being used, in his innocence, to lure them back to a deathtrap. He just said, “Now, we are living in the hospitality of our father-in-law. We cannot leave without his sanction. We shall abide by his decision.”

At this, Drupada said, “How can I ever say that you should go? You are not merely our guests but our sons-in-law. We consider it a privilege to have you in our midst. But at the same time, your uncle has a claim on you too….”

Vidura added, “My brother Dhritarashtra would have himself come to invite you, but for his physical condition. He, however, counts on your good will to be able to receive and bless the bride and the bridegrooms.”

Yudhistira once again looked about for guidance. Only a god, who could take in at a glance the past, present, and future, could guide him at this crucial moment.

Krishna happened to be at the court on a visit. He knew that the destiny of the Pandavas was soon to be in his hands. When they turned to him for advice, he said, “I feel that you should all go to Hastinapura, and I will go with you.”

On their arrival at Hastinapura, Dhritarashtra received his nephews with every show of affection. Several days later, he told Yudhistira, “I am dividing this kingdom, and your
half will be Khandavaprastha. I would like you to settle down there with your brothers, wife, and mother. Your cousins will rule here; and you may each live happily in your own territory.”

The Pandavas set out, led by Krishna, for Khandavaprastha, which proved to be nothing more than a desert—but they were happy to have found a place which was their own. They measured out the land and, after purificatory ceremonies, began to build fort walls, moats, and encampments. With Krishna's blessings, and with the services of the architects he had brought from Dwaraka—since they could no longer trust any builder from Hastinapura—in due course, a brilliant city came into being. It contained a palace with every luxury; mansions; broad roads and highways, shaded with trees; fountains and squares; and shops filled with rare merchandise. Many citizens and traders from Hastinapura came to reside there, attracted by its beauty and convenience. The name of the city was changed to Indraprastha, since it matched the splendour of the City of God.

When they were settled, Yudhistira had a visit from Sage Narada.
*
Narada wished to see for himself how well the Pandavas had settled at Indraprastha. He spoke at length to Yudhistira on the duties of a king, and then passed on to the problems that were likely to arise among brothers possessing a common wife. He advised that at the time she was possessed by one, the others must not only avoid all thoughts of her, but take care never to intrude into the privacy of the couple. The penalty for such a lapse was also decreed—exile
for twelve years. To illustrate his warnings, Narada narrated the story of Sunda and Upasunda, two invincible brothers, demons who ruled the world and were deeply attached to each other until they abducted Tilottama, a celestial beauty. In due course they fell out and destroyed each other.

In spite of the restrictions laid down by Narada, one day Arjuna had perforce to intrude when Yudhistira was in Draupadi's company, seeking his guidance on an urgent matter of the state. Exiled for twelve years, he spent his time bathing in holy rivers. In the course of his wanderings, Arjuna also married Ulupi, a princess of the serpent world, and then Subadhra, sister of Krishna.

T
O COMMEMORATE
their successful rehabilitation, Yudhistira performed a grand rajasuya sacrifice. Thousands were invited to be present in Indraprastha, Krishna being the most distinguished among them all. The guests were overwhelmed with the hospitality and general grandeur of the new Pandava capital with its mansions, parks, and broad roads. The prosperity of the Pandavas was admired by some and envied by others. Among those in whom envy was stirred was Duryodhana, who along with his uncle, Sakuni, had been a special guest and was given a palace and looked after with extreme concern.

After the sacrificial ceremonies were over, all the visitors left, loaded with presents and honours. Duryodhana felt so comfortable that he extended his stay at Indraprastha as long as he could. Finally, one day he took leave of the Pandavas and left with his uncle Sakuni for Hastinapura. While riding
back in his chariot, Duryodhana said with a sigh, “See how well the Pandavas live! And how much they have managed to create—out of that desert land to which they were condemned!”

“They have the grace of gods,” said Sakuni, “and they have also laboured hard to achieve prosperity….”

Duryodhana received the remark in silence, and then said, “Did you notice how well every one of the thousands spoke of them and what rare gifts were exchanged?”

“Yes, yes, one could not help noticing all that,” replied Sakuni.

“We are doomed,” said Duryodhana, “while they are coming up with so many as their allies and friends….”

“After all, they have developed only their portion of land. It need not concern you.”

“You do not understand,” insisted Duryodhana. “I feel tormented, and unless they are degraded in some way, I shall know no peace. My soul burns at the thought of those worthless cousins sitting up and preening themselves!”

Sakuni laughed at this and said, “Why don't you leave them alone? No use challenging them to a war. In addition to their allies, Arjuna is now armed with his great bow, Gandiva, and with the gift of an inexhaustible quiver.”

“Yes, I heard about that shameful thing—how he got it!”

“Nothing so shameful; it was a gift of Agni. He is favoured by the gods….”.

“How? Go deeper into it.”

“To please Agni, he set the Khandava Forest on fire with his astra. He and his ally Krishna, who professes to be an incarnation, rounded up all the poor beasts and birds, sealed off the exits, and drove them back into the forest. Fledglings and birds and cubs and their parents—all alike were roasted and cooked—because the God of Fire needed to consume animal fat for his own well-being. Arjuna was only too ready to provide it and was rewarded with the Gandiva! Whatever you may say of it, Gandiva has made Arjuna invincible. It
is an inescapable fact. We cannot fight with them yet. You made attempts to end their lives, and all your plans failed. Now they are strong and prosperous—leave them alone, I say. Don't go near them; they live in their territory and you in yours. I don't see why you should think of them at all.”

“You don't understand, you don't realise the agony I suffer. Do you know how they flaunt their prowess and prosperity and laugh at me? Actually laugh! They stand in a row and laugh at me. They let their servants laugh at me.”

“Well, we were treated as honoured guests all along—I cannot imagine they would have laughed at you.”

“I tell you, they did openly to my face.”

“How? When was it?”

“At their new hall of assembly….”

“What a grand, marvellous building, none to equal it anywhere,” said Sakuni. “Again, it is a gift from that divine architect Maya, who was saved from the fire of Khandava Forest….”

“Everything for them seems to have come out of that fire!” said Duryodhana. “
We
should have had an assembly hall of that kind, not they. They don't deserve such a grand structure—after all, Hastinapura is more ancient than Indraprastha. How cunningly built, what polish!” He was lost in the vision of that great structure. Soon he recovered his mood of indignation and said, “There was what looked like a pool with lotus blooms on it, all in a passage. While stepping into it, I tucked up my cloak—it was only a polished marble floor, and they laughed at me for this little mistake. A few yards off was another place which looked like that, and I fell into it and drenched my clothes. I had to change, and they seemed to have watched for it. All of them laughed and joked, especially that wild bull, Bhima. Oh!”

“Oh, forget it, it was not really designed to upset you, as you know….”

“And then there was an open door I tried to pass through, which was actually only a wall. And at an open door I
hesitated, taking it to be only a wall. I saw a lovely rose I couldn't pluck since it was only a painting. They were spying on me all the time; they stood about and guffawed at my predicament, including Draupadi… that awful woman. Someday it will be my turn to laugh at her, be sure of that… ”

After much talk on the same lines, Sakuni said, “Give up the idea of challenging them to a war. Some other way must be found to humiliate them… ” He thought over it and said, “Challenge them to a game of dice. Well, I'll help you; we will finesh them through it. I know Yudhistira's mind. He can never decline an invitation to a game, though he is a worthless player, the weakest player one could imagine!”

The idea appealed to Duryodhana and he said, “You must help me. First speak to the King and persuade him to invite Yudhistira…. I cannot talk to the old man about it.”

At Indraprastha, Yudhistira had a visit from Sage Vyasa. Vyasa had come ostensibly to bless him after the rajasuya, but before leaving he uttered a prophecy which made Yudhistira uneasy. “I read the signs and portents. The next thirteen years are going to prove difficult for you. Actions and reactions will be difficult to arrest, and will produce grave consequences. At the end of thirteen years, the entire race of kshatriyas will be wiped out, and you will be the instrument of such a destruction.”

After Vyasa left, Yudhistira remained gloomy and reflected, “How can we ward off what is destined to happen? I make this vow: for thirteen years, I will not utter a harsh word to anyone, whatever may happen, whether it be a king, brother, or commoner; I shall not utter any word that may create differences among persons. Harsh words and arguments are at the root of every conflict in the world. I shall avoid them; perhaps in this way I can blunt the edge of fate.”

When they reached Hastinapura, without wasting a moment, Sakuni spoke to King Dhritarashtra. He reported in detail on the rajasuya, and the distinguished guests, and the grandeur of the whole business. In conclusion he said, “Your son Duryodhana was received and treated well, but I suspect he is not happy. He has lost his colour, a pallor is coming over him, he has no taste for food, he is brooding, there is some deep disturbance in his mind. We must find out the cause of it.”

Dhritarashtra was upset. Immediately he sent for his son Duryodhana and questioned him. “I learn that you have grown pale, and some worry is gnawing you inside. Tell me what it is. We will make you happy again.”

Duryodhana described in detail the splendour and richness of all that he had seen in the Pandava country, and concluded, “They are our enemies: that you must understand in the first place.”

“No, no,” said the old man. “I can make no distinction between you and the Pandavas.”

“That may be, but I have a different philosophy. They are our enemies. I have read in the scripture that one who does not feel angered at the rise and prosperity of his enemies is like a mud effigy without any feeling. Jealousy is a normal, legitimate emotion. It is our duty to match their luxury and excel them, and impoverish them when the time comes.”