THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 1 (29 page)

Dhrishtadyumna strode in to his father’s presence. That king sat tense and alone, crying from time to time. His son was smiling as he came in. He embraced Drupada and cried, “They are not brahmanas! They are five and there is a regal woman with them who is surely Kunti Devi. Draupadi is so happy that the dark-skinned one who won her can only be Arjuna. The one who uprooted the tree is Bheema and Yudhishtira broke Duryodhana’s bow. The other two are so alike they have to be Nakula and Sahadeva.

Father, they spoke of ayudhas and astras all the time; they must be the Pandavas. The prophecy is not belied, my lord. Arjuna won your daughter’s hand!”

Drupada’s face lit up. Yet, he hardly dared believe his son; he thought this was too good to be true. The next morning, he sent his palace purohits to the carpenter’s house, with costly gifts. He sent this message to the ‘brahmanas’:

‘We must discuss the arrangements for Draupadi’s wedding. It would be best if you came to the palace.’

The Panchala king was faint with hope; but could he believe that the rishis’ prophecy was so wonderfully fulfilled? Torn between faith and anxiety, Drupada waited in his palace.

FIFTY THE UNUSUAL WEDDING
 

Noon, the next day and the Pandavas, Kunti and Draupadi arrived at the palace in the chariots Drupada sent them. Drupada rose from his throne in excitement. When the formal greetings were over, Draupadi led Kunti in to the women’s apartments. Drupada noted how at ease the brahmana woman and her five sons were in a palace.

A meal was announced. Drupada had arranged for the young men to sit on silken chairs and to be served in plates of gold and silver. Seeing how naturally they accepted this courtly hospitality, the Panchala king grew more certain they were kshatriya princes. The food itself, brought on shining salvers, was no vegetarian fare as brahmanas have, exclusively. There were rich and exotic meat preparations, mutton, fish, pheasant and venison and Drupada watched the young men enjoy all these. One of them ate enough for five.

After the meal, the king shrewdly led them past the armory and their eyes lit up to see his weapons. He took them to a private room, where, finally, Dhrishtadyumna and he were alone with the brothers.

When they were comfortably seated, Drupada said, “Who are you, Brahmanas? We have seen how brave you are, but beyond that we know nothing about you.”

Yudhishtira knew the time had come to declare themselves. “My lord, we are not brahmanas at all, but kshatriyas. We are brothers and we are the sons of Pandu of Hastinapura. I am the oldest, Yudhishtira. This is Bheema and my brother who won your daughter’s hand is Arjuna. These twins are Nakula and Sahadeva, Madri’s sons.”

Dhrishtadyumna, who had been staring hard at the ash-masked brahmanas, gave a cry, rushed to Bheema and hugged him. Drupada could not speak for a while. He took Yudhishtira’s hand and tears stood in his eyes. Finally, composing himself, he said, “My cup of joy is full today. Tell me how you escaped from the lacquer palace. And where have you been all these months?”

When Yudhishtira told him, in some detail, Drupada cried, “You mustn’t fear your cousins any more. My kingdom is yours and my army.”

They spoke about Dhritarashtra’s betrayal and Duryodhana’s conspiracy; then, Drupada said, “We must make the arrangements for the wedding, without delay.”

Yudhishtira replied, “I am Pandu’s oldest son. I must marry first.”

Without hesitation, Drupada agreed, “My daughter will not find a nobler husband than you.”

But Yudhishtira smiled, “My lord, I mean no disrespect, but five of us will marry your daughter. She will be the wife of all the Pandavas.”

Shock leapt in Drupada’s eyes. “But that is impossible! A man may surely take more than one wife. But who has heard of a woman having more than one husband? It is immoral, against the dharma the ancients have laid down for us. I cannot imagine how you even think of it. No good will come of this, Pandava, it is a sin.”

“We five have always shared everything, so nothing ever divides us.” Drupada began to interrupt, but Yudhishtira said, “Hear me out, my lord. My mother has never spoken a falsehood in her life. When we arrived at the carpenter’s house with Draupadi, Kunti said, ‘In the name of God, share the bhiksha you have brought equally among yourselves and enjoy it.’ Draupadi was the only bhiksha we had brought and to us our mother’s word is more sacred than the Vedas.

I have heard of more than one instance when the great rishis shared the same woman. The muni Jatila’s daughter had seven husbands; and there have been many others, none of them sinners, but holy men.”

There was a knock at the door and Vyasa appeared there, timely as ever. Drupada rose to welcome him. Yudhishtira and his brothers were somber, because Drupada’s reaction to their proposal had been one of such dismay. As Vyasa settled among them, all eyes turned to the muni. He said nothing, only sat quietly, waiting for his host to open the conversation.

“My lord, your arrival couldn’t have been more opportune,” said Drupada.

Vyasa murmured, “Perhaps that is why fate has brought me here.”

Sighing anxiously and certain the sage would never countenance what the Pandavas wanted, Drupada told Vyasa what Yudhishtira had said. The king ended, “You are an embodiment of dharma, Muni. You tell me, how can I allow this and still preserve my daughter’s honor?”

Vyasa was quiet for a moment. Then, he said, “Drupada, as you say, recent custom does not allow a chaste woman to marry more than one husband.”

Drupada smiled: Vyasa was his ally. But the rishi continued, “Yet, if you ask those who know about ancient times—times far more righteous than these—it was not exceptional for a woman to take more than one husband. Indeed, it was the rule rather than the exception in the nobler ages, when the earth was peopled by fewer men and women. And remember, only the truest man can even think of sharing his wife with another, be it not his own brother.”

Drupada was full of anxiety again. Vyasa went on imperturbably, “The five brothers may marry your daughter and the Gods will bless them. Drupada, the marriage of your fire-born child to these Devaputras was ordained long ago. Let me tell you part of an old story.

Once, in the elder days, a muni had a beautiful daughter. Some karma from another life cast a shadow over her and she could not find a husband. In desperation, she fashioned an earthen Sivalinga and sat before it in tapasya to remove the curse from her life and win a man. Dark was the karma that lay over her and she sat in penance for many years. One day, when she had all but given up hope, the Lord came to her in glory.

Siva said, ‘Tell me what boon you want.’

Her heart full of longing, the young woman cried, ‘Grant me a husband, merciful Siva, give me a husband! Give a husband, a husband is what I want, a husband and nothing else.’

Siva said, ‘I take your sin from you and you shall have five husbands.’

She gasped, ‘Lord, one husband is all I want!’

Illustrious Rudra said, ‘You asked me five times for a husband. Five husbands you shall have,’ and he vanished.

Your daughter Draupadi is the young woman before whom the Lord appeared. You will in no way break dharma by this unusual wedding. It is blessed by Siva and no sin will come from it.”1

Drupada inclined his head, bowing to fate and to God’s will. “So be it then, Muni. If Siva himself has willed it, who am I to flout his will? All five of you shall marry Draupadi and with honor.”

On an auspicious day, when the moon was in the nakshatra Rohini, where he is exalted, the strange wedding of one peerless princess to five matchless princes got underway in Drupada’s palace in Kampilya. That king had made the most elaborate arrangements. All his relations and ministers, the rishis and the common people of the Panchala kingdom were invited. It was made known that the omniscient Lord Siva had blessed the extraordinary wedding.

Their brahmana disguises abandoned, the Pandavas arrived in royal finery, with Kunti and Dhaumya. When the sabha sat, Dhaumya lit the sacred fire. He sanctified it with libations to Agni Deva, who conveys the offerings made in this world to the other Gods. Dhaumya sanctified the occasion by chanting the mantras meant for just such a wedding.

1. Vyasa also tells the story of how the five Pandavas are five Indras of previous kalpas, who were petrified by the Lord Siva for their arrogance. King Drupada sees a vision of them as such, illustrious.

The auspicious muhurta was announced and Dhrishtadyumna brought in his sister, so breathtaking today, destiny plain on her perfect face. Yudhishtira took her hand and led her round the fire seven times and they were man and wife. Later, after the first day’s feast, the Pandavas retired to an apartment in the palace where they were now living.

The next day, again at an auspicious hour, the people all gathered in the kalyana mantapa and today the mighty Bheema and the lovely Draupadi were married. Again, the princes returned to their apartment.

On the third day, Indra’s son Arjuna, greatest of archers, married Drupada’s daughter. On the fourth day, Nakula took her hand; and on the fifth, his twin Sahadeva, Pandu’s youngest son married the beautiful Panchali.

With Agni as his witness and tears of joy in his eyes, Drupada blessed his daughter’s husbands and gave them each a hundred chariots, five hundred horses, a hundred elephants, a hundred sakhis, garments of rare silk and gold and ornaments to fill a treasury. Secure in Kampilya, since Drupada, Dhrishtadyumna, Krishna and his Yadavas were with them, the Pandavas lived among the Panchalas for a time with Panchali.

It is told that, on the five nights she first spent with a different Pandava prince, the princess was a virgin for each of her husbands. The love of those six was more fervid for their being five men and one woman. Draupadi was the happiest woman on earth and her husbands the most contented of men; though, as always, the malicious and the envious gossiped and the imaginations of the wretched were full of obscene visions.

Borne on the tongues of gossip, word of the reappearance of the Pandavas and their marriage to Draupadi flew to Hastinapura and pierced their enemies’ ears like poison.

FIFTY-ONE ANXIETY IN HASTINAPURA
 

Vidura was overjoyed when he heard the news. He went straight to Dhritarashtra. Either he could never really believe his brother was party to what had happened in Varanasi, or he wanted to rub a little salt in the guilty king’s wounds. Vidura walked into the chamber of private audience and said, “My lord, I bring the most wonderful news!”

Dhritarashtra knew Duryodhana had gone to Kampilya to vie for the hand of the princess whose dark beauty was a legend throughout Bharatavarsha. His heart blazing up in hope, he cried, “Tell me the news, Vidura!”

“Twice blessed is the House of Kuru.”

“Ah!”

“Call for a celebration. Drupada’s daughter has become part of our family.”

“Well done, Duryodhana!”

“Duryodhana, my lord?”

“Yes, surely he won Draupadi’s hand?”

Vidura laughed. “Perhaps I heard the good news before you. Haven’t our spies told you yet?”

Instantly, the king’s face was a mask; not even his brother could see through him when he was like this. A smile flickered on his lips, though this was a very different smile, if one could read it: one to hide the doubt that gripped him. Dhritarashtra said slowly, “No spies from Kampilya have come to

me yet. Tell me, Vidura, you are dithering.”

Vidura took his brother’s limp hand.

“Kunti and her sons are not dead. Arjuna won the lovely Panchali’s hand. And all five of them have taken her for their wife, as in the old days.”

Not a twitch of his palm betrayed anything of what Dhritarashtra felt. The bland smile still played on his face, though it took all his guile to keep it there. He said mildly, “Good fortune indeed! Let our goldsmiths make the finest ornaments for the princess. Let those ornaments be set with the most precious jewels in my treasury. The sons of Pandu are as dear to me as they were to my dead brother. No, truly, they are dearer to me than to him: for I have watched them grow here in Hastinapura. Drupada is a formidable ally to have. He is a more powerful king than ever and his kinsmen are strong, especially his sons.”

He paused for a moment, then, asked very softly, “But tell me Vidura, how did they escape that terrible fire? And where have they been since?”

“The people are saying they died in the fire and were reborn miraculously in a far country. And for a while they roamed the earth as brahmanas, not knowing who they were.”

“Is that what they are saying?” mused the king.

Suddenly, the passage outside rang with footfalls, as two grim warriors strode along it and into the king’s presence. Riding hard, they had just arrived from Kampilya, where they had been humiliated by some brahmanas. Duryodhana and Karna entered the king’s chamber.

Dhritarashtra was saying to Vidura, “Ah, today is the happiest day of my life. Not only have my brother’s sons returned to me alive, they come bringing a beautiful bride and the alliance of her great father and brother. Which king in Bharatavarsha would not be proud to have Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna for his kinsmen?”

Duryodhana and Karna stood stunned. Vidura nodded to them briefly, triumphantly. He said to the king, “May such wisdom always dwell in your heart, my lord. Now your son has come to see you and I will leave you together. I must visit the jewelers for Draupadi’s trousseau.” He turned and left the royal presence.

Dhritarashtra ordered his guards to leave them. When they had gone, he held out his hand to his son. At first, Duryodhana did not take it.

Dhritarashtra said softly, “You misunderstand me again, my child. Karna, explain to him that what a king says is not always what he feels in his heart. My son is too hotheaded. He becomes angry without considering why I spoke to Vidura as I did.”

“Why did you, father?” cried his son.

“Why should I let Vidura, who loves the Pandavas, know how I truly feel? Least of all, I will make him privy to my feelings. Let him think that I, too, am a kindly old fool. So when I strike, he will be taken unawares. But what do you intend now, that the enemy has escaped your fire?”

Duryodhana knelt before his father. He took the king’s hand and kissed it. He said, “I misunderstood you, my lord. Forgive me, I am upset. That bungling fool Purochana let us down. My cousins are back among the living and more powerful than ever by marrying Drupada’s daughter.”

“You cannot recall what is past; think what you will do next. Have you a plan? The Pandavas know we are their enemies, they are dangerous now.”

Duryodhana was bristling with plots; he listed them excitedly. “Let us drive a wedge of envy between the sons of Kunti and Madri’s twins: have our agents poison Nakula and Sahadeva’s minds. We can bribe Drupada, Dhrishtadyumna and their ministers in Kampilya. Buy them with whatever wealth it takes.”

Neither Dhritarashtra nor Karna said anything, so he plunged on to his next plan.

“We will send our subtlest spies to Kampilya and they shall befriend the Pandavas. Our men will win their confidence and fill their minds with how dangerous it will be for them to return to Hastinapura, since we, their enemies, are so well prepared. They must be convinced the Panchala kingdom is the safest place for them to remain.”

Still, Karna and the king said nothing. Duryodhana had not exhausted his plots to be rid of his cousins. He had thought of nothing else, since he heard they were still alive.

“What if we have them seduced by the most beautiful women we can find in our kingdom and turn Draupadi against them? Discord sown within the home is best of all. Break their hearts first, then finish them off!”

No reaction came from his father or his friend. Duryodhana said, “But the finest plan and the one nearest my heart, is to kill Bheema. Snare him with friends, wine and treachery and cut his throat. The Pandavas are nothing without their beast.

Even Arjuna’s assurance is three parts because Bheema stands behind him and just one because of his own skill. Arjuna by himself is not a fourth the archer our Karna is. With Bheema at his side, he feels invincible. I say kill Bheema and victory is ours.”

His voice was tremulous when he thought of killing Vayu’s son. Dhritarashtra was quiet and Karna shook his head doubtfully. Duryodhana cried, “You are shaking your head, Karna! Have you a better idea?”

“These devious plans won’t rid you of the Pandavas. You forget that now they are bound not only by Kunti, but by dark Panchali as well. You will never divide them. As for seducing them with women, you saw Draupadi: what man who sleeps in her bed would even look at another woman?

As for Pnchali herself, she chose them when they were poor; she will not abandon them. Besides, a woman always likes have more than one husband and now she has five.

Buying Drupada and Dhrishtadyumna with wealth you can forget. Drupada is known for his frugality and so is Dhrishtadyumna. They are not men you can buy.

As for killing Bheema, I am certain that after Varanasi the Pandavas are on their guard against treachery. No, my friend, none of these schemes will work. Besides, they are worthier of your uncle Shakuni than a kshatriya like you. There is only one sure way for us: the way of the warrior. Let the future not say Duryodhana was a coward.

I hear Krishna of Dwaraka may come to Kampilya with his Yadava army, to help Yudhishtira take Hastinapura. I am told the Yadavas are hardly mortal and that any of them, especially Krishna’s own blood among them, could easily have shot the matsya yantra; but Krishna forbade them to compete. We must arrive in Kampilya before the Yadava legions do.

Duryodhana, the direct way is the best one. We have such great kshatriyas in our army. Why should we resort to women’s methods? Aren’t you with us and I and your hundred brothers? You yourself say Arjuna is not my equal. Let us kill them in open battle and then rule the world without remorse.”

Karna also trembled with what his fiery nature yearned for: battle, savage and honorable. But now, Dhritarashtra said, “Karna, you speak as every warrior should. Yet, I am not certain yours is the best course. We have to contend with the people of Hastinapura; by now, they have heard the Pandavas are alive. We have to take Bheeshma, Drona and Vidura with us on this matter. We cannot act alone.”

Surprisingly, Duryodhana agreed, “So be it. But let us not waste time.”

Duryodhana and Karna had already anticipated that, after Varanasi, Dhritarashtra would insist on having the elders of Hastina with him. If there was to be a confrontation, the two friends were prepared for it. Between them, they had agreed it would be politic for Karna to espouse the cause of war in the court. It would keep Duryodhana in the background and, at this stage, that was wise.

The king said, “If you are ready, I will call the sabha.”

“We are ready,” said Duryodhana and Karna together.

Dhritarashtra sent a guard to summon an immediate council of elders and ministers in the king’s court. Duryodhana and Karna retired to a corner to confer in whispers, of which Dhritarashtra missed not a word with his acute hearing. In half an hour, the guard returned to say the sabha was sitting and awaited the king.

“Come,” said Dhritarashtra, “let us go. Only, remember I cannot show open support for your cause yet. But the day will come, I feel sure it will.”

He did not speak with any enthusiasm. Their young blood alight for swift action, they followed him through the lofty passages of the palace to the hallowed sabha of the Kurus.