Mahabharata: A Modern Retelling (30 page)

The time drew nearer when the Pandavas

would end their exile, and King Dhritarashtra

grew more and more disturbed. Through a brahmin

who had seen the Pandavas in the forest,

he had had news—he knew that Arjuna

now possessed many celestial weapons;

he knew about the brothers’ pilgrimage,

and from whom they had received advice.

The anxious king listened to all the gossip

that came his way, the scraps of information

from travelers passing through Hastinapura.

What he heard gave him no shred of comfort.

And what he did not hear, imagination

supplied in the most terrifying detail.

He thought about the bitter sense of grievance

the Pandavas must be nursing in their hearts

and groaned. “How could they possibly forgive

the insults lovely Draupadi endured

at my sons’ hands? There is no way for us

to escape their terrible revenge. Surely

we stand no chance against Bhima’s searing wrath.

Our forces will be wiped out by Arjuna!”

All this he was prone to say openly

in the hearing of the entire court,

and Duryodhana fumed, “The craven coward!

Why does my father not believe in me?

Why does he have no faith in all my planning,

the strength I’ve built up over all these years?”

For Duryodhana had not wasted time.

He had made sure his cronies occupied

the most strategic posts within the court,

so now he held the reins of royal power

in all but name. With the help of Karna,

he had built up a massive fighting force.

He had used wealth to ingratiate himself

with the citizens, and to win support

from neighboring kings, securing promises

that they would fight for him when the time came.

He was resolved: no argument on earth

would make him yield his cousin’s former kingdom.

But though he swaggered outwardly, in secret

he was afraid, increasingly oppressed

as the twelfth month of the twelfth year approached.

Karna consoled him, “My prince, you are greater

than anyone on earth. No one can crush you—

the Pandavas should recognize that fact.

Suppose we organize an expedition,

take a huge entourage into the forest

to the beautiful Lake Dvaitavana

near where the Pandavas live out their lives

in squalor and degradation? Let them see

the painful contrast between their pitiful

resources and your own magnificence.”

“A good plan!” said Duryodhana. At once,

using the pretext of an official tour

of the cattle stations owned by the king,

a large party set out for the forest—

Kaurava brothers, courtiers and friends,

provisioners, cooks and valets, maidservants,

carpenters; dozens of concubines and wives,

bejeweled and richly dressed; most accomplished

singers, musicians, acrobats, dancing girls,

carried in palanquins and carriages;

laden carts—flanked by a well-armed escort

of a thousand soldiers, their bronze helmets

glittering. Duryodhana inspected

the cattle stations, had the new calves branded,

discussed the breeding program with the herdsmen.

Then they settled, pitched their elaborate camp

a short distance from where the Pandavas

had their dwelling, making such a din

with bonfires, drumming and festivities

the exiles could not fail to notice them.

For many days, they enjoyed themselves—

playing games with the cowherds, chasing deer

and wild boar. One day, hot and tired from hunting,

the prince sent his men to the nearby lake

to prepare a place for him to bathe.

They found it fenced off, guarded by gandharvas.

The peaceful lake was reserved for their king

and his consorts. “Then they must make way,”

said the servants, “our great prince, Duryodhana,

wishes to bathe.” The gandharvas were amused.

“Your witless prince is dreaming if he thinks

that he, a mortal, can command celestials!”

Duryodhana approached with his entourage

and a battle followed. The gandharva king

was Chitrasena, Arjuna’s close friend

from the five years he had spent in Indra’s realm.

The gandharvas took to the air, wheeling,

swooping like birds of prey. Some Kaurava troops,

terrified, ran off in all directions,

but Karna stood his ground and, single-handed,

loosing his arrows with amazing skill,

cut down many hundreds of gandharvas—

who fell, but quickly sprang up once again

until the field was swarming with gandharvas

by the thousand. But the Kaurava princes

rallied and, led by Karna, strongly attacked

the gandharvas. Chitrasena, furious,

summoned up illusion. Courageous Karna

fought stubbornly, showering his attackers

with razor-sharp arrows, killing hundreds

until, his chariot shattered, he was forced

to quit the fight.

On seeing this, the troops

that still remained gave up, and ran in fear

toward the position where Yudhishthira,

having heard the tumult, was observing

all that took place. Duryodhana, though wounded,

did not give in, and fought on, single-handed,

until Chitrasena overpowered him

and captured him alive. He was tied up,

as were his wives and several of his brothers.

The abject troops, Duryodhana’s retainers

and the straggling, sobbing camp followers

begged for protection from the Pandavas.

Seeing his cousins captured, and their servants

begging for asylum, bull-like Bhima

crowed in triumph. “They’ve got what they deserve—

they hoped to see us living in misery;

now let the gandharvas finish them!”

“No vengeance for now,” said Yudhishthira.

“They are our kin, we’re honor bound to help

no matter what they’ve done to us. Revenge

will take another form than this, believe me.

To save the life of a humiliated

enemy will be pleasure enough for now.

Arjuna, the twins and you, Bhima,

must set our cousins free. Be mild at first,

but if the gandharvas will not give way

then you must use all necessary means

to release the captives.”

The Pandavas

strapped on their shining armor, and leapt onto

their well-made chariots. Fierce battle followed,

with all the gandharvas’ skill and wizardry

pitted against the mighty Pandavas.

Arrows and spears rained down. The celestials

tried to break the Pandavas’ chariots

as they had smashed those of the Kauravas.

But they were kept at bay successfully.

Arjuna deployed his celestial weapons

to such effect that thousands of gandharvas

fell dead upon the ground. Others attempted

to fly away, but Arjuna created

a net of arrows, so that they were trapped

like linnets in a cage. Then Chitrasena,

seeing his forces beaten and terrified,

joined the fray in disguise, grasping his mace,

and rushed at Arjuna, who parried the blows,

shattering the great club. And whatever

illusions the gandharva king employed

Arjuna penetrated and defused them.

Outmaneuvered, Chitrasena then

revealed himself as Arjuna’s old friend.

Arjuna laughed, astonished. “Chitrasena!

Why have you held our cousin and his brothers?”

“Indra instructed me,” said Chitrasena.

“He wants to punish that mean-spirited man

who came expressly to intimidate you.

I am to deliver him to Indra.”

“But he is our kinsman,” said Arjuna.

“Please let him go—Yudhishthira requests it.”

“That evildoer does not deserve freedom,”

grumbled Chitrasena. Nonetheless,

Duryodhana and his party were set free.

Yudhishthira thanked him, and Chitrasena,

whose dead gandharvas had been restored to life,

departed for the kingdom of the gods.

The Dharma King turned to Duryodhana

and addressed him in a soothing tone.

“Friend, spiteful gloating’s never a good idea,

nor is rash violence. Let me advise you

not to be so impulsive. Now, set off home

in safety and good heart.”

Duryodhana,

his head bowed, walked away in silence.

He was overwhelmed with shame and bitterness.

Karna, knowing nothing of what had happened,

greeted him with joy. “You have survived!

What a warrior you are, defeating

the massed gandharvas—and you have emerged

unscathed!” Duryodhana shed bitter tears.

“Karna, it was not like that, not at all.”

He told his friend of his humiliation,

of how the gandharvas had been persuaded

to release him through no skill of his.

“Witnessed by my brothers, by my women,

the very men whom I set out to harm

saved my life! I wish I had died in battle.

What warrior of spirit could bear to live

owing his life to his enemies,

mocked by all? Certainly not I!

I have brought this ignominy on myself;

now I have resolved to fast unto death.

Duhshasana can lead the Kauravas!”

Karna tried to imbue the prince with courage

and, failing, vowed that he would die himself

rather than walk the earth without his friend.

Shakuni rebuked Duryodhana,

“Come, this excessive grief is foolishness.

Think of the humiliation you inflicted

on the Pandavas in the gaming hall,

yet, as you see, they hold their heads high;

you don’t see
them
fasting unto death.

Your cousins acted well—they rescued you

and you should thank them, and magnanimously

restore their kingdom to them. That’s the way

to earn the respect of friends and enemies.”

But Duryodhana was unmoved. “I will die.

Life is joyless to me now, a desert

empty of all delight. Friends, I embrace you.

Leave me here; return to Hastinapura.”

The grim-faced prince stripped off his finery

and sat on the hard earth, composed and silent.

In the dank and gloomy underworld,

demons who had been defeated by the gods

heard with dismay of Duryodhana’s vow.

In the ongoing war of gods and demons

they had great hopes of him. With magic spells

they had him brought to appear before them

and, as in a dream, Duryodhana

found himself in a huge and crowded hall,

the smoking sconces bolted to the walls

shedding a lurid light.

Demons jostled him

on every side, “O mighty Kaurava,

why are you doing violence to yourself?

It is wrong to give way to despair.

You are no mere mortal, but divine,

as we are. Long ago, with Shiva’s blessing,

you were formed out of diamonds and flowers,

beautiful to women, invincible.

You will destroy your enemies. We demons

will take possession of the inner souls

of Bhishma, of Drona and of Kripa.

However much they love the Pandavas,

they will fight for you with complete ruthlessness,

and will defeat your cousins and their allies.

As for Arjuna—we have a plan.

The demon Naraka has entered into

Karna, whose mission is to fight and kill

the Left-handed Archer. Knowing this,

Krishna, wielder of the all-slaying discus,

has arranged for Karna to be robbed

of the gold earrings and protective armor

he was born with. But if it should happen

that Karna dies, then demons by the thousand

inhabiting the bodies of your allies,

and sworn to destroy the Left-handed Archer,

will slaughter Arjuna, no doubt about it.

Go now—direct your mind to victory!”

Duryodhana awoke from this encounter

no longer set on death. Immensely heartened,

keeping secret what he had been told,

triumphantly, he rode back to the city.

From that day forward he prepared for war

whole-heartedly, convinced he could not lose.

He set in train a lavish sacrifice

and invited guests from far and wide,

including the Pandavas. Yudhishthira

graciously declined the invitation—

the period of exile was not yet spent.

Karna was full of joy to see his friend

resolute again. “Greatest of kings,

I swear to you, I shall not wash my feet

until I have ground Arjuna in the dust!”