THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (88 page)

He sways on his feet and almost falls, except that Gandhari reaches out blindly and catches him. Yudhishtira takes Dhritarashtra in his arms and helps him sit down. “Look how weak you have grown. The king who crushed an iron statue in his arms can’t stand a moment’s argument.”

His uncle says, “It is four days since I ate, child. But your loving touch has refreshed me. You must let me go to the forest.”

“I will do anything you want, but you must eat something first.”

“I will eat only after you say you will let me go.”

Timely as ever, Vyasa arrives in the palace and knocks on Dhritarashtra’s door. He is told what has happened there and, after listening gravely to both Dhritarashtra and Yudhishtira, the rishi says, “Yudhishtira, you must allow your uncle to leave. His time for penance and prayer has arrived.”

Yudhishtira looks stricken. After a long moment, he assents numbly, “If you say so, my lord.”

Once the matter is decided, Yudhishtira himself brings food and Dhritarashtra eats a little. Later that evening, they sit together, uncle and nephew and the old man has some kindly words of advice for the Pandava. The most important counsel he has is: “Always surround yourself with wise men, who are good-hearted. And on all vital matters, be sure you consult them and heed what they say.”

That night, Gandhari asks, “When do we actually leave?”

Dhritarashtra replies, “Very soon. I must speak to the people first.”

Yudhishtira is told his uncle wants to address the people and arrangements are made for men from every walk of life, the citizen’s representatives, to gather in the palace yard.

Dhritarashtra says to them, “My friends, Gandhari and I have decided to leave for the forest to do tapasya. Yudhishtira and Muni Vyasa have agreed to let us go. I want to ask your permission, as well. I also wanted to tell you all that I have been happier during Yudhishtira’s rule than I was during Duryodhana’s. My nephew has looked after me as if I was his own father and I have enjoyed peace of mind as never before. But I am old and all my sons are dead. You must let me go away.”

His eyes are moist. “Friends, try to forgive me for whatever happened when I was your king. My sons were selfish and arrogant and I beg your forgiveness for them, too. I beg you, let me go in peace.”

A whispered discussion follows among the crowd and then a brahmana called Samba mounts the palace steps where Dhritarashtra stands. Samba says, “My lord, the people have chosen me to speak for them. We want to tell you that you have been like an older brother to us. It was not you or your sons that caused the great carnage, but irresistible fate. If you truly want to go into vanavasa, you have our leave. We will miss you, Dhritarashtra, you will always be in our hearts.”

Dhritarashtra’s blind eyes spill tears. One by one, the men in the crowd come up to him and they take his hands tenderly, some embrace him.

The next day, Vidura arrives in Yudhishtira’s presence with a message. “Dhritarashtra wants to leave on the day of the next full moon, in the month of Kartika. Before he goes, he wants to perform a sraddha for Bheeshma and Drona and his sons. He wants some gold for this.”

Yudhishtira and Arjuna say what a good idea it is, but Bheema jumps up and cries, “We shouldn’t give him a cowry! That hypocrite is responsible for everything we suffered and he dares ask for gold.”

Arjuna says gently, “Whatever happened, he is our uncle and he kept us for many years in Hastinapura. We all have weaknesses and make mistakes, Bheema. This is the last thing he wants from us. We must not refuse him.”

Bheema says hotly, “We will do whatever sraddha is needed for the dead. Dhritarashtra need have no part in it!”

Beside himself and guilty as well, since he knows the immediate cause for the old king’s leaving, Bheema begins a tirade against Dhritarashtra, listing everything he had done to them, or acquiesced in. Yudhishtira cuts him short, “That will do, Bheema! Be quiet now.”

From the look in his brother’s eye, Bheema knows Yudhishtira has guessed the truth. He falls silent, squirming. Yudhishtira tells Vidura, “Uncle, please tell Dhritarashtra he can have whatever he wants for the sraddha. No expense, no effort, shall be spared.”

Dhritarashtra undertakes an elaborate ten-day ritual, as an offering to all those who had lost their lives in the war. By Yudhishtira’s command, untold wealth is distributed on Dhritarashtra’s behalf. He that was to receive a hundred gets a thousand, while the one who was to be given a thousand receives ten times as much. On the last day of the sraddha, Yudhishtira learns Kunti means to go to the forest with Dhritarashtra and Gandhari. He is shaken. All the Pandavas, Draupadi, Subhadra, Uttaraa and Parikshita beg her to change her mind. But she is adamant.

Yudhishtira clasps her feet and cries, “Mother, you asked us to fight the war and win back the kingdom. How can you even think of leaving us and going away? All this is for you, don’t abandon us now.”

“Whatever I did was for my sons’ sake. I have lived long enough to enjoy my great-grandchild for fifteen years. My place is not here, any more, but with Gandhari and Dhritarashtra. Our time in the world is over, let me go in peace.”

The next day, when Yudhishtira actually sees Dhritarashtra, Gandhari and Kunti emerge from the palace, wearing deerskin and tree-bark, he flings his arms around his uncle and cries, “Don’t leave He will not let them pass, until Arjuna draws him aside firmly, saying, “Calm yourself, my lord. This is not how you must send them on their way.”

There is another shock in store for the Kuru king. Two more figures, clad in valkala, emerge shyly from the palace. They have not had the courage to tell Yudhishtira that they, too, mean to go away. When he sees them, he begins to sob more loudly: Vidura and Sanjaya mean to follow Dhritarashtra into the forest.

The Pandavas walk through the thronging streets behind the renunciates, with Panchali, Sub-hadra, Uttaraa, Chitrangadaa and other women of the city, brahmana, kshatriya, vaisya and sudra, wailing like a swarm of bereaved birds. All the people have turned out to bid farewell to the elders. At last, at the city-gates, with many an embrace, they part. On Vidura’s arm, Dhritarashtra walks away into the open spaces of Aryavarta and Kunti leads Gandhari by her hand. They are heading first for the Ganga and Vyasa’s asrama on her banks, where Dhritarashtra receives his first initiation into san-nyasa. Then they go to the forest asrama of the Rishi Satayupa, who, at Vyasa’s behest, instructs Dhritarashtra further.

The munis of the wilds welcome Dhritarashtra and his companions and they begin living an ascetic life in the forest. Vyasa’s eldest son proves an eager tapasvin and in a few months little remains of the Kuru king of measureless power. Instead, an austere rishi takes his place. Dhritarashtra mortifies himself and spends his days and nights in ceaseless prayer. Soon he has reduced himself to maci-lence and his body takes on a fine luster. Slowly, the blind king’s sins are burned from him.

A year passes and in Hastinapura not a day goes by without Yudhishtira and his brothers thinking of their mother Kunti and missing her more than they can bear. They never speak of her, for that would make them unbearably sad. One day, when all five Pandavas sit together with Draupadi, Yudhishtira says, “I wonder how our uncles fare in the forest.”

Sahadeva, who has been waiting a year for this, cries, “And our mother! Yudhishtira, can’t we visit them just once, to see how they are?”

Draupadi puts in, “I long to see mother. The women of the palace can’t wait to go and meet Gandhari and Kunti again!”

Yudhishtira looks at the others and sees the eagerness on every face. He calls the captain of his guard. “We will leave for the forest tomorrow to visit our uncle. Make preparations and let it be announced in the streets that anyone who wants to go with us shall be welcome.”

Sahadeva can hardly contain his excitement. Early next morning, a royal party, with elephants, chariots, horses and palanquins for the women of the palace, sets out from Hastinapura; with them, go a hundred mules, laden with provisions. Yuyutsu and Dhaumya are left in charge of the kingdom. Yudhishtira waits five days outside the city, for anyone that cares to join his party. Then, after a day’s journey, the company arrives on the fringes of the forest where Dhritarashtra has taken sannyasa.

Yudhishtira orders camp made at the edge of the vana, for they must not disturb the tapasvin rishis within. The Pandavas enter the forest on foot. Asking directions from the hermits they meet, they make their way to the asrama where Dhritarashtra, Kunti and Gandhari live. An aged muni in the asrama tells them, “You will find him at the river. He has gone to bathe and to gather flowers for his worship. Gandhari and Kunti are with him.”

The Pandavas set out toward the Yamuna and coming toward them from a distance, they see their uncle, aunt and mother. Sahadeva gives a cry, runs to Kunti and flings himself at her feet. She raises him up and hugs him: kissing him, sobbing to see her favorite child again. The others come up and Dhritarashtra weeps for joy to see his nephews. At last, he has truly become the loving uncle he would have always been, except for his overpowering attachment for Duryodhana.

Sanjaya is there, faithful to the last, serving Dhritarashtra as he has always done. Later, when they sit together in the asrama and the people greet their old king, Dhritarashtra says, “Having you all here makes me feel I am back in the palace at Hastinapura.”

Yudhishtira asks, “But where is Vidura? Doesn’t he live with you?”

One of the rishis says, “He has gone beyond us all. He lives by himself in the deepest jungle. He does not eat, but mortifies his body. Only rarely he comes to visit us and then he never says a word.”

At that moment, another muni gives a shout, “There he is! It is Vidura.”

They catch a fleeting glimpse of a wild-looking figure at the edge of the hermitage, darting away into the trees. Dhritarashtra says, “He is shy of men now. He will not come where there are even two or three people.”

Another muni says to Yudhishtira, “If you want to see him, we will show you the way to where he sits in dhyana. But you must go alone, or you won’t find him.”

Yudhishtira gets up and follows the rishis into the deeper forest. Soon, the others point him ahead and say he should go on by himself. As he walks on, the trees grow closer together and the awning of branches overhead is so thick hardly any sunlight penetrates it. The silence here is a reverberant presence, as if God is very near.

Slowly, Yudhishtira goes forward, until suddenly he senses he is not alone any more. He pauses to let his eyes grow accustomed to the gloom. Nothing stirs and the Pandava walks on again. He hears a low cough to his left and spins around. He can hardly recognize the emaciated hermit leaning against a tree. The bizarre and naked figure is covered in mud, leaves and the pollen of many flowers, as if the jungle has claimed him entirely. He is hardly more than a skeleton, for there is so little flesh on him and his skin hangs loose. But Vidura’s body is luminous in the forest’s dimness; his eyes glow like torches.

Yudhishtira calls softly, “Uncle, Vidura, it is I, Yudhishtira.”

Vidura makes no reply, only the burning eyes seize Yudhishtira’s in an irresistible gaze. The Pan-dava realizes Vidura is past being able to speak, but those eyes hold him in their brilliant trance. They are surely mad, but in the most sublime way: with having seen God. Yudhishtira stands rooted by that gaze; and then the strangest thing happens to the Kuru king. Uncannily, he begins to feel older and wiser, as if another, sager, being was entering his very body, limb by limb, breath by breath. The Pandava trembles at the subtle possession. He feels his mind being immeasurably enriched, with an intelligence and wisdom far beyond his own.

Then, Vidura’s glowing eyes flicker and burn no more; they are lamps put out. Yudhishtira approaches the attenuated form, which still leans against the tree. He reaches out and touches Vidura’s face, but life has left the skeletal body. Yet, within himself, the Pandava can clearly feel his uncle’s gentle presence. He stands for a moment, astonished and a little uncertain. He thinks he must carry Vidura’s body back to the asrama to be cremated.

An asariri speaks to him: “Vidura was an incarnation of dharma, just as you are, Yudhishtira. He is with you forever now. You must not burn his body, nor remove it from this place. Your uncle was a sannyasin when he died and now he is part of you. Let the forest absorb his mortal remains.”

Yudhishtira turns back to the asrama and recounts his experience to the others. He and his brothers light a fire and spend the night under the trees. The people of Hastinapura return to the city in a day or two, but the sons of Pandu stay a month in the forest with their mother and their uncle and, also, visiting other asramas.

During this time, the Pandavas notice that, for all his tapasya, Dhritarashtra is not yet at peace with himself. Some nights, they see him come out of his hut and stand staring at the dark jungle; often, a spasm of grief convulses him and he shakes with sobs. Then, one day, when the Pandavas themselves are away in another asrama, Vyasa arrives in the asrama. When they sit together, speaking of many things, Dhritarashtra bursts into tears.

He prostrates himself before Vyasa and cries, “Father, I cannot bear this sorrow any more! Where are my sons now, in which world? Are they in some terrible hell, paying for their sins?”

Draupadi, Subhadra and Uttaraa also begin to sob. Panchali asks, “Where are my sons, Muni? I hardly knew them, before death snatched them from me.”