THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (37 page)

They see he is crying in relief. Chastened by his tears, they kneel at his feet for his blessing. He lifts them up, one by one, embraces them, kisses them repeatedly, all of them sobbing.

Bheeshma says, “You cry in sorrow and I for joy. Dry your eyes and go back to your camp. Sleep in calm tonight, knowing tomorrow will be the dawn of your victory. Say nothing more; go now, leave me with this joy.”

Heads bent, they leave his tent. As they go, they see him enveloped in light. All his cares seem to have fallen away from him; an unearthly smile is on his lips and his eyes shine. He sits there like a God who visited this world briefly and is now ready to return to his true and timeless home. Krishna is the last one out. He turns at the tent-flap, “Be joyful for ever more. You will never be born again into this world of sorrow. And you will be remembered as the greatest Kuru ever.”

The Dark One raises his hand in a blessing and Bheeshma feels a tide of grace surge in his heart. He cries, “My Lord!” but Krishna has gone.

Still later, in the final yaama of the night, Arjuna comes to Krishna’s tent. He sits beside him and takes his hand. Krishna sees he is crying. Arjuna says in a strangled voice, “He is my Pitama, who has always loved me. The man I am meant to kill tomorrow is my grandfather. How can I do this, Krishna?”

He sobs like the boy who once sat in his grandfather’s lap. Krishna holds Arjuna against him. Gently, but with complete firmness, he says, “You have to, Arjuna. You are a kshatriya. It is your dharma to win this war for your brothers, for yourself, for Draupadi and your sons. Bheeshma’s death is written at your hands and no power on earth can change that. Long ago, before you were born, why, before he was born, it was written that Bheeshma would die by his Arjuna’s arrows. However you torment yourself with guilt tonight, tomorrow you will kill him. What is fated will happen; not you, not I, can change that.

Arjuna, you are not killing him from hatred. You are not killing your Pitama, but the enemy’s Senapati. You are killing him because if you do not you will lose this war and evil will rule the earth. Evil will sit upon your ancestors’ throne and enslave all the generations to come. Be certain of that: either Yudhishtira or Duryodhana will inherit the throne of this world, not both of them. Bheeshma stands in the way of Yudhishtira ruling the earth in peace and dharma. If you do not kill him—and remember he longs to die—Duryodhana will win this war. Then, the coming age will be plunged in a sinister night, the rule of hell. There is more at stake here than your love for your grandfather. You must act without attachment; it is your dharma. The future of the world is in Arjuna’s hands. He cannot sacrifice it, not for love of his Pitama.”

By the power of the Avatara, Arjuna has a glimpse of what is truly at stake on Kurukshetra, field of dharma. It shatters his pity in a moment, with terror. Trembling with the fleeting vision, Arjuna kneels before Krishna in the dark. His throat parched, his hair standing on end, he breathes, “My Lord! I will do it. I swear I will kill Bheeshma.”

TWENTY
THE TENTH MORNING 

On the tenth morning of the war, for the first time in years Bheeshma wakes after a restful night. It seems to him that tranquillity suffuses the world and the rising sun is more brilliant, more resonant, today. The very air seems full of deep enchantment. Bheeshma worships the saffron star and is enfolded in peace. The earth wells with grace. Outside, the birds sing just for him; the trees speak to him, heart to heart. He knows they have always been full of this ecstatic speech: only, he had never heard it before. The golden Saraswati flows songs of fire, psalms of heaven. The earth is transformed around him and Bheeshma knows Krishna has blessed him. There are secret worlds hidden in the morning, calling him irresistibly. Intangible, holy waters oflife purify him for the ceremony ofhis last day on earth: the ritual of his death.

His heart soaring as never before, Bheeshma deploys his legions on Kurukshetra. Across the field of fate, Arjuna has come out, with Krishna beside him. A vast sense of destiny fills the Pandava also. There is no doubt left in Arjuna’s mind what he must do. Sorrow sits on his heart like sacrament, freeing him from fear.

Arjuna says to Krishna, “I will set Shikhandi at the head of our army and shield him from the arrows of the enemy. Let what is written in the stars be fulfilled.”

Just then, another slight figure appears beside them. Arjuna starts at Shikhandi’s appearance this morning. That prince wears armor and carries his bow in his hand. But his body and his face have changed; soft curves swell beneath the mail, at breast and hip. Most of all, his black eyes have changed. It is hardly a man who stands there, but a strange and lovely woman, her every limb quivering in anticipation of what she will do today. The expression on Shikhandi’s face is so disturbing that Arjuna cannot look at him. Tensely, the Panchala prince stands beside them.

They set him at the head of the Pandava army. Yudhishtira forms his legions into the most sacred vyuha of all: the Deva vyuha, the phalanx of the Gods. Just behind Shikhandi, at his chariot-wheels, are Arjuna and Bheema. Directly behind him are Abhimanyu and Draupadi’s sons. Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna flank the Pandavaputras; behind them, are Yudhishtira, Nakula and Sahadeva. These kshatriyas form the heart of the vyuha. They will ride just against Bheeshma and those that guard him. Virata and Drupada lead the rest of the Pandava forces, with the Kekayas, Ghatotkacha and Dhrishtaketu.

Across the field, the Kauravas form their legions in the ancient Asura vyuha. Bheeshma leads the army. Drona is at his side, with Duryodhana and his brothers. Seeing the finest Pandava warriors all concentrated at the core of their legions, seeing Shikhandi before all the rest, Aswatthama, Bhagadatta, Kritavarman and Kripa also ring Bheeshma round today, knowing the Pandavas mean to attack the patriarch. Around them are Shakuni, the Kambhoja king and Susharma’s Trigartas. Bheeshma is radiant on the field of Kurukshetra; he is like an immortal.

The conches announce the battle and yet again, the armies run at each other, shaking the sky with their roaring. This morning, Bheeshma is more terrible and fluent, than he was on the ninth day even. Duryodhana exults: victory will be his. For the Pandavas, Nakula fights resplendently today and Satyaki and Sahadeva beside him. Duryodhana wonders that his Pitama has the appearance of a youth of twenty this morning! How bright he seems, how quicksilver is his archery. All the lines of care seem to have vanished from his face, as he cuts the enemy down as he likes. Duryodhana thinks his grandfather is excited because he also scents victory.

Then, Shikhandi rides at Bheeshma and brings him up with an effulgent volley. In a ringing woman’s voice, that turns the other Kauravas’ heads, Drupada’s strange son cries, “Fight me now, Devavrata! I have waited two lives for this day.”

Bheeshma snorts at him, “You may have a man’s body today, but I know who you are. I will not fight a woman!”

He begins to ride away. Shrilly, Shikhandi cries, “They say you are the greatest kshatriya of all! I know you fought your guru Bhargava to spurn Amba’s love. But her love has come to Kurukshetra to bring death to you. Fight me, Bheeshma! I will kill you today.”

He strikes Bheeshma with five thought-like arrows, sharp and sweet as Kamadeva’s flower shafts of love. Bheeshma growls in pain like a lion; but he will not raise his bow to fight back. Swift as Shikhandi’s arrows, the other Kauravas are at the patriarch’s side and in front of him. Arjuna cries to Shikhandi, “Ride him down, Shikhandi, we are all with you!”

Abhimanyu, Dhrishtadyumna, Yudhishtira, Bheema, Nakula, Sahadeva, Satyaki, Ghatotkacha and the Kekayas ring Shikhandi round and answer the Kaurava fire on him, ferociously. Duryodhana says to Dusasana, “They are all after the Pitama. We must keep him safe from Shikhandi at any cost. Let that be the only mission of all our kshatriyas.”

He rides to Bheeshma’s side and cries, “Look how Arjuna and Abhimanyu, Bheema, Nakula and Sahadeva cut our men down without mercy. I beg you, kill the Pandavas today and let this ghastly war end. Kill them, Pitama and save a million lives!”

Bheeshma gives him a look that is beyond contempt. He roars, “I will not kill the Pandavas! Even if I wanted to, I could not kill them. Arjuna can kill me, but not I, him. Can’t you see, blind child, who Arjuna’s sarathy is? Can anyone on earth, in heaven or hell, kill him, when Krishna drives his chariot? I swore to you that I would kill ten thousand men every day I fought. I reckon, Duryodhana, I have killed twice that number and today I will discharge what remains of my debt to your father. Then, perhaps, I will be free to die.”

Fear starts in Duryodhana’s eyes. Before he can speak, Bheeshma whirls away at the Pandava army again. He kills a hundred men; then Dhrishtadyumna and Abhimanyu attack him and, soon, Nakula, Sahadeva, Yudhishtira and Kuntibhoja. Aswatthama, Drona, Kripa and some of Duryodhana’s brothers ride between the patriarch and the Pandava heroes. Bhoorisravas sets himself stubbornly between Bheema and Bheeshma. Chitrasena fights Chekitana, Kritavarman covers Dhrishtadyumna with a rash of silver arrows. Vikarna faces Nakula; Aswatthama attacks Drupada and Virata, at once. Drona fights Yudhishtira; Arjuna and Dusasana duel. And all around these warriors, their armies battle like two seas trying to drown each other in blood.

Rishyasringa’s son Alambusa faces the brilliant Satyaki. The rakshasa uses maya, so Satyaki must summon astras against him, which light up the demon’s body when he makes himself invisible. Invoking the devastras drains Satyaki and slows his fabulous archery. Still, he begins to prevail over the tiring rakshasa. Seeing Alambusa in danger, Duryodhana sends Bhagadatta to help him, “Satyaki fights like a hundred men. Kill him today and victory shall be ours!”

Bhagadatta comes on the looming Supritika and the Pandava soldiers run from him. Trampling a hundred men, the elephant charges Satyaki. From the beast’s white back, its demon warrior, his fangs gleaming, covers the Yadava in a cloud of arrows and javelins that glow like strips of the sun and the moon. Satyaki is quick as thoughts, powerful as a Deva and he fights back resolutely. Yet, being at a height, Bhagadatta has the advantage; Satyaki has to shoot up at the asura, often with the sun in his eyes.

Eagle-eyed Duryodhana misses nothing on the field. He sees Bhagadatta gaining over Satyaki and sensing a chance to kill one great Pandava warrior, he roars at the crack legion that always surrounds him, “Ride at Satyaki! He is tired and alone, he can be killed.”

The arrival of those kshatriyas does not cow the young Yadava. Rather, their arrows, some of which find their marks, make him fight more radiantly than ever. Shining with courage, Satyaki beats them all back. He puts Bhagadatta to flight.

Another duel rages between Arjuna and Dusasana
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and soldiers around them stop to stare; some die as they stand absorbed. Abhimanyu and the Kambhoja king fight like two great winds trying to still each other. But one of the most enthralling contentions of the day is the one between Sahadeva and his old master, Kripa. Today, slowly, his sage pupil forces his Acharya back.

Aswatthama and Drona fight side by side. Above all the roaring and screaming around them, the father says to his son, “Do you see the omens of earth and sky? They all cry out that some calamity stalks our army. Look how Arjuna maneuvers Shikhandi, to inveigle Drupada’s prince between himself and Bheeshma. My mouth is parched and my body shivers. The kali yuga enters the world through the portal of this field! Bheema lurks near Shikhandi and Arjuna and I fear for Bheeshma’s life.”

He sees another Pandava cut his way toward Bheeshma and then another. Drona draws a sharp breath. “Fly to the Pitama! Go like the wind, Aswatthama. Don’t think of your own life, Bheeshma must be guarded at any cost. Look! They form a ring around him and hem him in from every side. Satyaki, Abhimanyu, Dhrishtadyumna, Bheema, Sahadeva and Nakula, too. Fly Aswatthama! Or they will kill him.”

Aswatthama streaks forward in his chariot at his father’s word.

TWENTY-ONE
THE BED OF ARROWS 

Some final resistance to death in Bheeshma gives way. It is as if he has cleared the last shred of debt he owes Duryodhana and his blind father in Hastinapura. He feels a pure spring of peace gush within him again. There is light everywhere. The war seems like a child’s distant, comical game. He feels blissful eternity brush his cheek. A beatific smile lights Bheeshma’s face, with the miracle beginning in his spirit. He sees Krishna at Arjuna’s chariot-head, smiling back at him in fathomless mystery and tenderness. For an interminable moment, the Blue One is all he sees.

Around him, the Kaurava warriors swarm, Aswatthama and a hundred others, determined to guard him with their lives. Sublime laughter fills Bheeshma: how amusing it is that they are so desperate to save his life, when he is as eager to die. Once more, he feels the nearness of other worlds, calling him inevitably. Bheeshma cries to Yudhishtira, “I am ready to go, my child. Come, free me!”

In the sweetest dream, he raises his bow and fights again. Thus he would spend his final moments; thus, he would die. Astonished Kaurava soldiers think they had imagined what he said to Yudhishtira. For here he is, fighting like before.

Yudhishtira cries grimly to Arjuna, “Let Shikhandi ride at Bheeshma!”

Aswatthama, Susharma and his brothers, Shalya, Dhritarashtra’s sons, Drona and Kripa and a score of other Kaurava warriors set themselves between Bheeshma and the Pandavas. Arjuna rides at them, his arrows a river in the air. Hearing Yudhishtira’s call, Bheema flies at Bheeshma from another side; so do Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna and Abhimanyu. The Kaurava warriors are beaten back. Bheeshma stands his ground and the Pandavas ride at him.