Pradip Bhattacharya

Indologist, Mahabharata scholar

Archives for October 2017

The Mahabharata as a Whole

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RECONSIDERING THE MAHABHARATA

Vishwa Adluri (ed.): Ways and Reasons for thinking about the Mahabharata as a Whole, Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, Pune, 2013, pp. xxv+201, Rs.500/-

One of the signal achievements in Indology that Indian scholars can be proud of is the publication by the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, Pune, of the Critical Edition (CE) of the Mahabharata (MB) and the Harivansha (HV) in 22 volumes, along with a Pratika Index and a Cultural Index. However, scholars the world over have turned this into another instance of “Others abide our question; thou art free!” It was the French scholar Madeline Biardeau who, in the 1990s, stated her preference for the Vulgate text, free of the CE’s excisions and for treating the MB as a whole instead of as a hotchpotch of materials. Actually, way back in 1901-2 Aurobindo Ghose, had done this in his Notes on the Mahabharata” which scholars are unaware of. A case for taking a second look at the CE was made out by Alf Hiltebeitel, the American scholar and the most prolific writer on the MB. Wendy Doniger and David Shulman “have also expressed reservations about the CE.” A justification for revising the CE was advanced by me in a national conference held by the National Mission for Manuscripts in 2007. Papers relating to this trend of thought, which is gathering momentum, have been compiled in this important publication edited by Vishwa Adluri of Hunter College, New York, with an elaborate Introduction and a 16 page Bibliography. Two essays bring out the thematic unity of the epic while others explore historico-textual issues and the question of Greek influence.

In a thought-provoking lengthy Introduction, Adluri critiques the tradition of “higher criticism” (a philological term denoting matters influencing the text) and prefers the “hermeneutic method” which focuses on the CE text to interpret it. This approach takes the epic as a whole, discounting the theory of “layers” and the search for the “Ur text” exemplified by Hopkins and German scholars who were importing Biblical research methodology on the Old Testament into the MB.

The first essay is a riveting study of the Uttanka story at the beginning of the MB, recurring in the Book of Horse-Sacrifice, which apparently has nothing to do with what follows, bringing out its symbolism as an “education in becoming” and its relevance in the epic. All on a sudden, why should Sarama, the hound of heaven, curse Janamejaya that his sacrifice will face a serious impediment? Here Adluri painstakingly lays out the narrative structure of the Adi Parva, the Book of Beginnings, showing how Vyasa’s epic has two sacrifices (Shaunaka’s and Janamejaya’s) in two tales, one embedded within the other. There are other sacrifices he overlooks: Parashara’s to annihilate rakshasas, Drupada’s two rites birthing Shikhandi, Dhrishtadyumna and Draupadi leading to the Kurukshetra war, repeatedly referred to in terms of a holocaust. And it all has its origins in yet another yajna: the sacrificial ritual the gods hold in Naimisha forest with Yama as the butcher-priest. Adluri highlights the multiple levels of the text: Vaishamapayana’s narrative; the allegorical sacrificial rites and, thirdly, Uttanka’s interpretative tale, the last providing the key to how the story is to be read. Besides this, however, the Uttanka tale also contains Vedic symbols related to a spiritual journey, which Adluri does not touch upon. Vyasa states he has retold the secrets of the Veda in the MB, an aspect explored utilizing nirukti (etymology) in my Secret of the Mahabharata (1984).

Hiltebeitel’s fascinating paper investigates the possibilities of the MB as history, itihasa, as it calls itself 8 times (which the Ramayana never does, always referring to itself as kavya). From 2001 onwards, several Western scholars besides himself, like Biardeau, Fitzgerald and Sutton, have agreed that the MB is a post-Ashokan composition. He argues that references to Cinas suggest a date post 221 BC of China’s first emperor. It is curious that he does not cite the reference to denarius, which would also date the MB to early Roman times in the 3rd century BC. Hiltebeitel shows why the MB predates Ashvaghosha’s Buddhacharita (1st-2nd century AD), suggesting that it was composed between 150 BC and 100 AD.

Hiltebeitel accepts T.P. Mahadevan’s thesis that the MB was composed by Purvashikha Brahmins (wearing tufts on the front of their heads) of the Kuru-Panchala area, taking historical data from the Vedas, between 300 and 100 BC. The Yuga Purana dated around 60-25 BC has 12 slokas on the MB, refers to Greek-Panchala-Mathura forces sacking Pataliputra (the end of the Mauryas c. 190 BC), to Shaka invasions and to safe havens in the south where the Purvashika Brahmins migrated during the Tamil Sangam culture, carrying the MB. From this, written on bark or palm-leaf in Brahmi script, the elaborate Southern recension was created, drawing upon the HV, in Grantha script in the Tanjavur area. A subsequent migration from eastern Haryana and Malva, fleeing the Huna raids c. 6th century AD, occurred in the 7th century AD by Aparashikha Brahmins (wearing tufts on the back of their heads) carrying the Northern Recension of the MB text in a northern variety of Brahmi that influenced Tamil script. under the Pallavas who produced the inflated version in Telegu Grantha script. Meanwhile, in the 5th century AD, in the context of the Kalabhra Interregnum, a chaotic period in Tamil history, some Purvashikha Brahmins (the future Nambudiris) moved to Malabar region carrying the MB where it is found in the Aryaeluttu script. Here an entire section, the Sheshadharmaprakaranam, was added to the Harivansha (available thanks to Purshothaman Avaroth at http://www.dvaipayana.net). One branch of the Purvashikhas remained under the Cholas creating the Krishnaism of the MB borrowing from the HV. Mahadevan analyses as a case in point the presentation of argha to Krishna in the Sabha Parva (2.35.6-29). He shows that around 300 CE three texts exist simultaneously in the Sangam Tamil region: a Sharada text (the foundation of the Critical Edition) with an additional Krishna-bhakti portion called “A-21”, a similar section in P.P.S.Sastri’s Southern Recension in the process of construction drawing upon the Harivansha’s sections 38, 41 and 42 in response to the Alvar bhakti movement. The killing of Madhu and Kaitabha is the main part of this insertion.  Mahadevan draws attention to an untraced complete text of the MB lying in the Bharat Itihasa Sanshodhaka Mandal of Pune referred to by Edgerton, editor of the Sabha Parva of the CE. It is a great loss that the National Mission for Manuscripts has not pursued this. An exciting development is mention of a joint project by Hiltebeitel and Mahadevan to compare the Sastri southern recension with the CE to reveal how the text took shape.

Taking off from an earlier paper by Adluri on Ruru and Orpheus using etymology (nirukti) to plumb the symbolism, Joydeep Bagchee shows that the myth of Ruru is part of the epic’s response to the philosophical problem of time and eternity. The introduction itself states that one who knows the etymology of the MB is liberated from all sin, niruktam asya yo veda sarvapapaih pramucyate (1.209). Salvation inheres in turning to self-knowledge. The entire Bhrigu cycle (Pauloma and Astika Parvas) is about a fall from being into becoming. It is the snakes who form the interpretative apparatus for comprehending the action of time amongst humankind.

Simon Brodbeck analyses the analytic and the synthetic approaches to the MB suggesting that with the CE it is the latter that is appropriate. The former seeks to outline the historical process by which the MB came to be built, varying from a thousand years (400 BC to 400 AD) to a couple of generations (150 BC to 100 AD). The focus is on the “original” form of the MB. He critiques Tokunaga’s paper on Bhishma’s advice to Yudhishthira to expose weaknesses in the analytic approach, such as Yudhishthira being enthroned twice, which does not occur. The search for historical clues within the text blinds the analyst to narrative subtleties within it. Brodbeck points out the basic flaw in the assumption of the CE, viz. that scribes only add to and do not subtract from texts they copy. There is a case for re-examining the decisions of the CE’s editors about including and leaving out passages.

The book ends with F.W. Alonso’s paper arguing that the MB drew upon a vast quantity of Greek materials, particularly the Homeric cycle and the myths about Heracles. He finds as many as seven parallels between the former and the design of the MB. There are numerous commonalities between Achilles and Bhishma, Helen and Draupadi, Alcmaeon and Parashurama, the lament of Yudhishthira over Karna and of Menelaus over Agamemnon, Arjuna and Rama with Odysseus in the contest for Draupadi/Sita/Penelope. Alonso finds as many as 11 themes common to the tenth book, the Sauptika Parva, and the tenth book of the Iliad. He claims there are 8 clear borrowings from the account of the fall of Troy. But why can it not be the other way around? From this evidence, Alonso suggests that the epic was written after Alexander’s invasion which provides the historical basis for relationships with Greek and early Roman culture. During the same time (1st century BC), writing pervades Roman culture and the Aeneid is composed with Greek materials.

This is truly a very important book, which every Indologist dealing with the epics ought to study. Unfortunately, for such a significant collection, BORI has produced a disappointingly shoddy publication. There is not a word about the editor and any of the six contributors, nor any index; the cardboard covers are of the poorest quality; the typeface used is shabby; some articles are followed by a blank page, others by none, suggesting that each article was printed separately and the lot stitched together without regard to consistency in composition and printing. For an institution that will be a hundred years old in 2017, this is a lamentable display indeed.

 

 

 

 

Origin of Kali Worship

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Kali in Lalgola Rajbari, Murshidabad, with shackled hands that inspired Anand Math’s description by Bankimchandra

That Bengal is the core area of the cult of Kali the dark devi is well-known. But was the goddess always offered puja in the form prevalent today? Actually, up till the 17th century CE she was worshipped in the symbolic form of a pot. How that changed is the stuff of fascinating legend.

Mahamahopadhyay Krishnananda Vagisha Bhattacharya, the author of Tantrasara, (Tantra Omnibus) lived in Nabadwip in the district of Nadia (West Bengal). Popularly known as “Agam-vagish” (expert in scriptures) he was a devotee of the devi, possibly in the late 16th century CE, worshipping her as symbolized in a gha?a (pot). Once an intense desire arose in him to give bodily form to the goddess. The Tantras described her as four-armed, but not which hand held what and in which mudra. She was stepping on Shiva, but with which foot? So what was he to do? Finally, one night in a dream he heard an unseen voice directing him, “Tomorrow at dawn in the one on whom your eyes first fall will you find my form. Making me in that shape, worship me!”

Thrilled with delight and anticipation, Krishnananda set out as the first streaks of dawn lit up the eastern horizon. Outside a village hut he saw the newly wedded bride of a cowherd starting to smear cowdung on its walls. Her right foot was extended, the left bent back (in Bharatanatyam this is the alidha pose). The left hand held a ball of cowdung and the right hand was raised up and inclined forward, holding a small pat of cowdung to plaster the wall. Her hair, undone, spread all over her back. In haste, wanting to finish the work quickly before the household awoke, her forehead glimmered with perspiration. While wiping it off with the back of her hand (as it was full of cowdung) the spot of sindoor on her forehead had got smeared, reddening her eyebrows. Krishnananda did namaskar to her. Finding that a stranger had seen her face, the bride bit her elongated tongue in shame. Krishnananda had found the exact form for his icon. Returning home, he gave that shape to it in which she is worshipped still in Nabadwip as Agameshvari Kali Ma. This form is also called Dakshina Kali, the benevolent form of the devi as distinct from the form worshipped in crematoria.

Krishnananda’s brother Sahasraksha was a staunch Vaishnava. Once, in Krishnananda’s absence, his brother offered the bananas he had kept aside to offer the goddess to his deity, Gopala (Krishna as the cowherd). After a heated argument, both sat down and began invoking their deities. At midnight both had a vision of Kali feeding bananas to Gopala cradled in her lap. They realised that the two were one. The worship of this dual form is recorded in the Gopala-Kalika Kalpa.

The Mahabhagavata and the Devi Puranas relate that once Shiva, wonder-struck by Parvati’s beauty, wished to experience femininity. He told her that he would like to assume female form and she should be male and be the husband. She agreed and said that her thundercloud complexioned form of Bhadra Kali (benevolent Kali) would descend to earth as Krishna. Shiva descended in nine forms as Radha and eight others like Rukmini and Satyabhama, the wives of Krishna. The devi took birth from Devaki as a son and from Yashoda as a daughter. To assuage Devaki’s fears, the son showed his true form as the terrifying four-armed Kali with three eyes, terrifying mien, astride a corpse, with hair free flowing, a crown, and a garland of skulls. When the Pandavas prayed to the devi at Kamakhya, Bhagavati appeared and assured Yudhishthira of victory, saying that to support him she had taken male birth from Devaki.

At the end, Brahma approached Krishna in Dvaraka and told him that at Shambhu’s request and for relieving earth’s burden the Devi had taken birth as a mortal. As the task had been completed, she should now return. Krishna then smiled and asked Drupada’s daughter, born of his portion, whether she would stay back or follow him. Draupadi said, “I am your portion. You are the original Kalika. Like a bubble merging into water, I will merge into you.” At the seashore, Krishna became Kali and sped to Kailasa on a lion-drawn chariot. Draupadi, touching the sea waters, merged into her. Thus, Krishna and Kali are one.

Devi Kali and Krishna

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WHEN DEVI KALI BECAME KRISHNA

The Mahabhagavata Purana gives extremely interesting variations on the MBH story. The Purana is recounted by Vyasa to his pupil Jaimini. As in the case of the Bhagavata Purana, the account states that dissatisfied with the MBH and the Puranas he had composed, Vyasa desired the ultimate knowledge and went to the realm of Brahma who advised him to listen to the glory of the Supreme Creatrix who had created the trinity and everything else. With great reluctance, after being much praised by Narada and requested by Vishnu, Mahadeva agrees to recount who it is that the trinity worship. Chapters 49-58 contain the MBH story following the story of Rama (including the worship of Durga for Ravana’s destruction which Valmiki does not mention, but is found in the Bengali Ramayana of Krittibas).

Once Shiva told Parvati that he would like to assume female form and she should be male and be the husband. She agreed and said that her thundercloud complexioned form of Bhadrakali would descend to earth as Krishna, while her attendants Vijaya and Jaya would become Krishna’s friends Sridam and Vasudam. Shiva said he would descend in nine forms as Radha, daughter of Vrishabhanu and also as eight others like Rukmini and Satyabhama. When earth had approached Brahma to lessen the burden of the daityas who had been reborn as wicked kshatriyas, he had requested Jagaddhatri to intervene. She said that as her female form was worshipped by kshatriyas, she would not fight them. But her Bhadrakali form would be born displaying Vishnu’s signs to Devaki-Vasudeva and destroy them. Vishnu himself would be born as Pandava Arjuna. A portion of the Devi would be born as the wife of the Pandavas, KrishnA whom wicked Duryodhana would insult in the assembly hall, having deceitfully defeated Yudhishthira in a game of dice. In the war that would follow, the goddess would delude all warriors to kill one another and at its end the earth would be bereft of kshatriyas, with only the old and children alive besides the five brothers devoted to her. She directs Brahma to convey all this to Vishnu who took birth in two portions: as Vasudeva’s son Rama and as Pandu’s son Dhananjaya via the mediation of Indra.

Kashyapa and Aditi had pleased the Creatrix with severe ascesis and begged her to be born to them. She agreed to be born male with the complexion of newly risen rain clouds, her garland of skulls being turned into one of wild flowers, her appearance attractive, displaying Vishnu’s signs though with two arms and two eyes.

Finding that Kamsa had killed six newborn sons of Devaki, Brahma anxiously approached the Devi who bade him ask Vishnu to be born to Devaki as the Devi’s elder brother. She herself would split into two and be born from Rohini and Yashoda and as Devaki’s eighth son. In the fifth month, from Rohini’s womb she would enter Devaki’s, while Vishnu would migrate from Devaki’s womb to Rohini’s. Kamsa would not be aware of the eighth birth. Vasudeva would bring Yashoda’s daughter—a portion of Devi—who would slip from Kamsa’s hand when he tried to dash her against a stone and rise to the heaven in the ten-armed, lion-riding form announcing that his killer was growing in Nanda’s home. All this would have to be done until Kamsa’s prowess got exhausted. Thus, Vishnu first enters Devaki’s womb, and the Devi enters Rohini and Yashoda’s wombs. In the 5th month Devi shifts from Rohini’s womb to Devaki’s, while Vishnu moves from Devaki’s womb to Rohini’s who has been shifted to Nanda’s home in Gokul and gives birth to the fair Rama, an incarnation of Vishnu. At midnight of ashtami under the Rohini asterism and Vrisha lagna the Devi is born from Devaki as a son. At the same time she is born to Yashoda as a daughter. To assuage Devaki’s fears, the son shows his true form as the terrifying four-armed Kali with three eyes, terrifying mien, astride a corpse, with hair free flowing and a crown, a skull-garland. At Vasudeva’s request, she changes to the pleasing ten-armed form.

After recounting Krishna’s childhood exploits including the rasalila with Radha (Shiva) and the killing of Kamsa, the narrative shifts to Hastinapura in chapter 55 stating that Vishnu took birth through Purandara from Kunti’s womb as Arjuna who was supreme in archery and all other disciplines, while his four brothers were also of great prowess. Wicked Dhritarashtra, Karna, Shakuni and Duryodhana plotted against them despite the advice of Ugrasena conveyed through Akrura, who informed Krishna of Dhritarashtra’s perversity. Krishna determined that this hatred would surely lead to the death of Dhritarashtra’s son and wicked Shakuni. Krishna shifted to Dvaraka with the Yadavas at this point. Then he abducted the daughter of Bishmaka king of Vidarbha, Rukmini (Shiva’s portion along with 7 other wives of Krishna).

Having got married, the Pandavas wished to perform a sacrifice and summoned Krishna who, in order to aggravate the hatred of the Kauravas and destroy kings, advised performance of the Rajasuya (this yajna has invariably been followed by destructive conflicts, enumerated in the Devi Bhagavata Purana by Vyasa). Krishna sent out Bhima to conquer all directions and by deceit got Bhima to kill the king of Magadha. During the yajna when Shishupala insulted Yudhishthira, Krishna and the yajna itself, enraged with the honors offered to Krishna, he was decapitated in that assembly of kings by Krishna. Aggrieved with the splendor of the yajna, wicked Duryodhana, cruel Karna plotted with wicked Shakuni to invite the Pandavas to a game of dice in which Yudhishthira was cheated and lost twice over and had to go into exile. Duryodhana insulted Draupadi in the assembly hall and was regarded by Bhishma and other kshatriyas as the thorn of kshatriyadom. They consoled Draupadi and restored her to the Pandavas, criticizing the Dhartarashtras. Krishna considered all this as the chief cause leading to removing earth’s burden, and returned to Dvaraka (this implies that from the Rajasuya yajna till the exile he was present in Hastinapura).

During the exile the Pandavas came to Kamakhya to beg the death of sinful Kauravas in battle and restoration of their kingdom. Bhagavati appeared and assured Dharma’s son of this and said to support him she had taken male birth from Devaki in the home of Vasudeva being prayed to relieve the earth of burden. She told him that at her bidding, for the same reason, Vishnu had taken birth as Arjuna. She would ensure the destruction of Bhishma, Drona etc. through Arjuna and Bhima. A long paean to the Devi follows by Yudhishthira in which she is repeatedly addressed as “Kameshvari” and “Kamarupa vasini”.

Bhagavati then asks him to beg another boon. He begs for her protection during the incognito period of exile. She tells them to live in the city of the king of Matsya. So they went to the city of Virata, keeping their dresses, weapons on a Shami tree. Carrying golden dice, dressed as a Brahmin, Yudhishthira came to the king of Matsya giving his name as Kanka. Similarly, Bhima was engaged in the kitchen, Arjuna—disguised as a woman—to teach dance and Draupadi as Queen Sudeshna’s Sairandhri.

By the grace of the goddess, none was recognized in the 13th year. When just a month was left for the year to end, Sudeshna’s brother, mighty Kichaka saw Sairandhri. He insisted on Sudeshna to let him have her on pain of suicide. Sudeshna told him Sairandhri had assured her that no man could approach her because of her five Gandharva husbands, when the queen was apprehensive that the king would leave her on seeing Sairandhri. Kichaka was not bothered and insisted. When Sudeshna asked her to visit Kichaka, Sairandhri refused saying he would die if he approached her. Sudeshna informed her brother of this who was enraged and determined to violate her by force. Afraid, the daughter of Drupada prayed to the Devi Jagaddhatri (invoked as Katyayani, Jagadambikey and symbol of chastity). Durga durgatinashini assures her that any lustful person who desires her will die.

For some special work she went to Kichaka’s apartments at night. He seized her hand. Draupadi pushed him away hard and fled, followed by furious Kichaka. Draupadi rushed into the Matsya king’s hall where the old king was dicing with Dharma’s son. Here Kichaka grabbed her hair and kicked her. Drupada’s daughter lamented and criticized the Matsya king, glaring with red eyes at Bhima and depressed king of dharma. Then, wiping her tears, she left, biding her time. Bhima determined to kill Kichaka and advised Sairandhri to invite him at night to the dancing hall where he would kill him, and she should then announce that the sinner had been destroyed by the Gandharavas. Draupadi did so and the citizens said the Gandharvas had destroyed Kichaka. Hearing this the Upakichakas came and lamenting took his body for cremation. Outside the hall they decided to burn Sairandhri with it and abducted her. Draupadi cried aloud, hearing which Bhima leapt over the walls and destroying the Upakichakas freed Sairandhri. The citizens said that the Gandharvas had destroyed the Upakichakas. Then the fearful king told Sairandhri to depart from his town. She assured him she would do so in a few days.

A few days later 13 years were over. So far Duryodhana’s spies had failed to spot them. Now, hearing of the death of Kichaka and his followers he decided that the Pandavas must be living there and consulting Bhishma, Drona etc. arrived with his army at the Matsya kingdom. There they fought Partha at the cattle stables and were defeated. Then, recognizing the Pandavas, humbly king Virata honored them and married his daughter Uttara to Arjuna’s son Abhimanyu. Then the Panchalas and the king of Kashi and other kings arrived to help the Pandavas, who assembled for war at Kurukshetra.

To relieve earth of her burden, Devi KrishnA in the form of Krishna arrived to help Yudhishthira with his soldiers and Satyaki. Bhishma, Vyasa and others failed to dissuade Duryodhana from war. Depending on Karna’s views, he was determined on war. Both sides assembled at Kurukshetra. Yudhishthira approached the elders individually and touched their feet and obtained their permission to engage in war. Then the Pandavas descended from their chariots and prayed to Jagadambika for victory, recalling that by her grace Rama had destroyed the Rakshasas. Devi granted them the boon of winning back the kingdom and told them that for this she had taken the form of Vasudeva on Arjuna’s chariot.

Bhishma led the Dhartarashtras, Karna stepping aside out of hatred of Bhishma, while Bhima led the Pandava army. Bhishma destroyed an arvuda of soldiers in 10 days. On the 10th evening Shikhandi, with Arjuna’s help, felled Bhishma who awaited Uttarayan on a bed of arrows surrounded by a moat. Karna and others chose Drona as general and he fought for 5 days during which Subhadra’s son was slain in unjust battle. Arjuna took a vow and in the evening killed Jayadratha. On the 5th day Drona was killed by the son of Panchala. Karna fought for 2 days, killing rakshasa Ghatotkacha. Arjuna of the monkey banner slew Karna. King Yudhishthira, waxing angry, slew Shalya and Bhima killed Duryodhana in a terrible mace duel having killed the other Dhartarashtras earlier. At night, Bharadwaja’s son slew sleeping Dhrishtadyumna and Draupadi’s five sons. Arjuna drove immortal Ashvatthama and Kripa with his arrows from the field. Thus in 18 days of battle 18 akshauhinis were destroyed. On the 8th day of the white fortnight of Magha Bhishma died. By the grace of Mahadevi the Parthas enjoyed their kingdom.

As earth’s burden had been removed, Brahma approached Krishna in Dvaraka and told him that at Shambhu’s request and for relieving earth, Devi had taken birth as a mortal. As the task had been completed, she should now return. Jagadishvari, in the lovely Shyama form, agreed to return. Calling the counselors he said that by the curse of Ashtavakra muni most Yadavas were already dead and only some aged were alive and he no longer wished to remain on earth.

Yudhishthira be summoned forthwith with his brothers. They arrived with Draupadi and other women determined to follow Krishna. Krishna asked Yudhishthira and Bhima to protect his citizens after his departure. All the Pandvas said that they had no wish to remain alive if he left. Krishna then smiled and asked Drupada’s daughter, born of his portion, whether she would stay back or follow him. Draupadi said, “I am your portion. You are the original Kalika. Like a bubble merging into water, I will merge into you.” Balarama asked Krishna to take all Vrishnis along. Krishna wore yellow garments and donating wealth to Brahmins left the city followed by all Vrishnis and Pandavas along with servants, mothers, women and reached the seashore. Nandi arrived in the sky with a jewel encrusted lion chariot, and Brahma with thousands of chariots. Flowers were rained by the gods. Suddenly Krishna became Kali and sped to Kailasa on that lion-chariot. Draupadi, touching the sea waters, merged into her before the eyes of all. Then Yudhishthira rose to svarga on a wonderful chariot. Balarama and Arjuna touched the sea waters and left their bodies and assuming dark complexioned, four-armed bodies, rode on Garuda to Vaikuntha. Bhima and other Vrishnis left their bodies. Rukmini and the 8 chief queens assuming Shambhu’s form left their bodies. The other women of Krishna re-assumed the form of Bhairavas. Sridam and Sudama became Jaya and Vijaya again.

The Bhishma and Drona Parvas–the P. Lal Transcreation

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A Zero-Sum Game:
Where Ignorant Armies Clash by Night

The publication of the P. Lal transcreation of the first two of the five battle-books is an important event. After K.M. Ganguli’s prose translation in the late 1890s, followed by M.N. Dutt’s replication, the world has not had access to an English version of these in their entirety. J.A.B. van Buitenen passed away without touching them and his successors have, so far, published part of the Shanti Parva. The Clay Sanskrit Library’s diglot edition has brought out half of the Drona Parva. The Lal transcreation stands apart from all others particularly because of none of them dare to set the translations to poetic rhythm, something that comes so naturally to Prof. Lal, who brings to the work a unique Indian flavour by working into the transcreation many Sanskrit words. The great Ganguli had a P.C. Ray to take care of the manifold problems of publishing such a gargantuan work; van Buitenen had the University of Chicago Press; the Clay series has the New York University Press’all well established institutions with trained manpower. Here is another Abhimanyu taking on the awesome challenge of transcreating-and-publishing Vyasa’s hundred thousand verses, working through the epic-of-epics steadily, relentlessly.

Reading the first two battle-books together is rewarding because of the varied insights such an approach provides. In the first place, the second book, despite covering half of the duration of the first, is longer by half because the battle is far more sanguinary and varied. Both the Kaurava commanders-in-chief’appointed by Duryodhana reluctantly because of Karna’s refusal’are Vyasa’s expose of deeply flawed elders and their narrow dharma. We have here a patriarch who signally fails to provide protection to his foster brother’s wife and sons from murderous attacks in childhood and youth. Later, he and the two gurus of the grandnephews remain silent onlookers to the spectacle of a granddaughter-in-law being molested publicly by their employer, the heir-apparent. It is supremely ironic that the prince who earned the sobriquet of ‘Bhishma’ and came to be renowned as the greatest of renouncers should be so hopelessly bound to his father’s throne as not only to preside over the suicide of the dynasty, but to actually participate in it on the side he knows to be in the wrong! Indeed, Devavrata-Gangadatta-Bhishma is another Prometheus, bound in adamantine chains to the icy Caucasian peaks of the Hastinapura throne, wracked in immortal agony as the Dhartarashtra-Pandava fratricidal strife eats into his vitals endlessly. For, perversely, he cannot, or will not, die till liberation comes in the form of mortal arrows showered by a grandchild who loves him. And the person whom the Indian government holds up as the model of a guru is one who unhesitatingly indulges in sharp practice to ensure that his son gets exclusive tuition and his favourite pupil is not outdone by a talented tribal; who abandons his calling as a non-violent Brahmin to take up arms to acquire power and pelf for his son’no different from the blind king of Hastinapura in his paternal obsession.

It is in the first war book that both patriarch and guru acknowledge, ‘I am tied to the Kauravas by need.’ Bearing out Gandhari’s warning to her son in the Udyoga Parva, Bhishma and Drona fight for Duryodhana, but not with their hearts, announcing that they will not kill any of the five Pandavas. Duryodhana is caught in a zero-sum game: he has no option but to appoint them as the commanders-in-chief. His best bet, Karna, sulks Achilles-like in his tents, determined not fight so long as the patriarch is in command. Yet, this same Karna rushes to the fallen Bhishma begging his permission and blessings to fight against his brothers’what a marvellous vignette Vyasa presents us with! Even thereafter, aware that everyone is unlikely to accept his overlordship and for once letting his discrimination prevail over his egotism, he advises that Drona be made supreme commander. Fifteen days pass and every other day Duryodhana’s desperation mounts and he berates first Bhishma, then Drona for not killing the Pandavas’all to no avail. He directly indicts the guru (VII.94.14) in gravely insulting terms:

‘We ensure your livelihood
Yet you harm us.

I did not know
You are a honey coated razor.’

Drona’s flawed character is exposed as Sanjaya tells Dhritrashtra that in order to impress Duryodhana (VII.94.40) Drona encased him in golden armour made impervious mantrically. In the duel that follows, Arjuna, unable to pierce this armour, displays his unique bowcraft by wounding Duryodhana’s palms and underneath his finger-nails, forcing him to retreat (VII.103.31-32). However, this incident of encasing in magical armour seems to be an interpolation because in sections 116 and 120 Satyaki and in section 124 even Yudhishthira have no problem in wounding his chest so grievously that he is forced to flee the field.

Dhritarashtra’s perplexity over the failure of his army provides the reader with interesting information about how it was administered (VII.114): ‘We treat our soldiers well’Only after passing extensive tests’has their pay been determined, Not because of family connections, personal favour or nepotism. None is conscripted, none is unpaid’we spoke to them sweetly. Not one’has been unfairly treated. Each, according to his ability, gets paid and receives rations’we give presents, we honour them with the best of seats. Even these veteran warriors face defeat.’

In the duels with Dhrishtadyumna we are treated to martial acrobatics of a special type as he jumps on to the guru’s chariot and rapidly shifts position, foiling all Drona’s attacks (VII.97.26-28). Bhima’s duel with the guru is also memorable as he overturns Drona’s chariot repeatedly’as much as eight times! If he is defeated and spared by Karna (VII.139), he also succeeds in forcing the latter to retreat twice (VII.131, 145) and after Drona’s death Karna flees the battlefield out of fear (VII.193.10). The battle for Jayadratha reaches a high point with Arjuna single-handedly holding back the entire army while Krishna refreshes the horses in a hall-of-arrows. Sanjaya exclaims (VII.100.12, 21):

‘O Bharata! Krishna, smiling,
stood gracefully in the arrow-hall
created by Arjuna,
as if he was in the midst of women’
In a single chariot, clad in armour,
facing the Kshatriyas,
the two played with our warriors
like children with toys.’

As we wade through rivers of blood and gore these 15 days, we notice a gradual breaking down of codes of conduct as the stress mounts steeply. Chariot, cavalry and elephant divisions no longer refrain from attacking infantry and even unarmed charioteers and fleeing soldiers or from killing the charioteer to perplex the chariot-rider. After Bhishma’s fall, the battle even carries beyond midnight first by torchlight, then by moonlight, with warriors killing their comrades in the confusion:

‘And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.’

As in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, fathers slay sons, maternal uncles kill nephews and vice-versa. Warriors intervene in duels, attack from behind, many encircle a lone fighter: ‘Dignity was lost/In that crazed clash’ (VII.169.50).

The Udyoga Parva had closed with Yudhishthira taking a measure of his strength after hearing from his spies that Bhishma and Drona had announced that each could wipe out the Pandava army in a month, Kripa in two months, Ashvatthama in ten days, Karna in five. He puts the question specifically to Arjuna who claims that using Shiva’s weapon he can annihilate all opposition in a flash, but adds that its use is improper against humans. He avoids declaring how many days of normal warfare he would take to defeat the opponents. It is Arjuna’s initial assurance that constitutes the backbone of Yudhishthira’s morale because he knows full well that Arjuna’s fulsome estimate of Virata and Drupada equaling Bhishma and Drona is nothing but bombast. The former was cowed down by Kichaka and routed by the Trigartas, as was the latter by the teenaged Pandavas. Sanjaya exclaims to Dhritarashtra:

O raja! Then erupted the battle
Between the Kauravas and Pandavas
Whose origin was the dice-game,
Whose end was all-embracing doom. ‘VI.103.44

Planning for a war is one thing; coming face-to-face with the imperative of killing a beloved patriarch and a revered guru is quite another. It is this existential angst that pierces through Arjuna’s moral armour, effectively unmanning him and becoming the occasion for the recital of Krishna’s Gita transcreated by Prof. Lal in 1947 in rhymed verse, in 1952 in prose, in free verse in 1965, revised in 1968. Intrigued by Arjuna’s uncharacteristic collapse and not finding answers in theGita, he embarked upon the epic journey of transcreating the entirety of Vyasa’s composition verse-by-verse. I will skirt this much-commented-upon text and deal with the rest of the parva. Both in VI.51.6 and in the Gita (1.10) there is a verse that remains intriguing. Duryodhana tells Drona that his forces led by Bhishma are ‘aparyapta’, inadequate, while the Pandava army led by Bhima is ‘paryapta’. This has been transcreated as ‘vast’ and ‘limited’, which is to twist the natural meaning of the word. If Duryodhana feels his army is innumerable, why should it be necessary for Bhishma to revive his spirit in the very next verse?

Prof. Lal’s Preface to the first war-book deals only with the Gita, seeing it as the core of the Bhishma Parva. Reading it is a gripping experience as the reader follows a sensitive and incisive modern mind grappling with Krishna’s recital to extract meaning, savours the delight of the memorably retold parable of the Kalpataru and is surprised by joy to come across gems of insight through a spectrum spanning Vyasa, Dante, T.S. Eliot and Ramprasad Sen. The Preface to the Drona Parva is another scintillating piece teasing out the many shades of the guru-chela relationship: neither will harm the other, yet ‘both must face each other, courtesy of Mahakala’. Against the ideal of the guru-shishya bond given in the Bhagavata Purana, here Vyasa shows us the ground reality of excruciating dilemmas: Drona trying to balance Arjuna-Ekalavya-Ashvatthama; Bhishma caught between Duryodhana-Karna-Pandavas-Krishna. And was Vyasa himself not the greatest victim of this, asks Prof. Lal, when his son almost drove him to suicide by not following his wishes?

Section 1, verse 7’describing the vast empty field of battle’is virtually identical to verse 25. The critical edition overlooks this duplication. Historically, Vyasa’s reference to icons of gods in 2.26 is of interest, as prior to the epic such references are almost absent.

For making sense of the divya drishti gifted by Vyasa to Sanjaya we need not conjure up theories of India having television cameras recording the war. The secret of the supranormal vision is revealed in Vyasa’s announcement at the very beginning that none will harm Sanjaya and his access to everything and everyone will be unfettered. In sections 4-12, Sanjaya gives the king a cosmography that theVishnu Purana copies. There is a detailed description of 7 continents (dvipa, i.e. land with seas on two sides) with their mountains, the countries (varsha) in-between the mountains, 6 oceans. Man is associated with Bharatavarsha, which has 7 ranges, 161 rivers and 228 peoples among whom there is an intriguing reference in 9.56 to Romanah people in the northern region. In 6.14-15 we find a mini-myth of Garuda leaving Meru because all birds there are golden plumaged like him. 8.10 mentions Shandili living at Shringavat, winging us back to Garuda’s traumatic meeting with her in the Udyoga Parva. However, in 8.16 the reference to Hari’s golden chariot of eight wheels has no puranic correspondence. There is a moving reference in 9.5-8 introducing Bharata as a land loved by Indra and 16 famous kings, ‘all these kings and other powerful Kshatriyas/Have deeply loved the territory of Bharata.’ Astronomical data provided in these parvas are hopelessly garbled and have led to a wide variety of dates being fixed by scholars keen to pin down the date of the war, each claiming to have interpreted the dubious references correctly. Deliberate changes appear to have been made in the data around the time of Devabodha’s commentary (mid-18th century CE), each statement conflicting with the others.

Section 13 is virtually a new beginning of the Bhishma Parva as though the lesson on geography had not occurred at all. Reverting to the original narrative pattern of the epic, we find Vaishampayana stating that Sanjaya rushed back to the king to announce that Bhishma ‘lies dead, sprawled on a bed of arrows’. This is repeated in section 1 of the Drona Parva. In both cases, as well as in Dhritarashtra’s extended laments, the references are quite plainly to death and not to awaiting death. Therefore, it is in later times that the concept of Bhishma waiting for the auspicious stellar conjunctions for giving up life was added along with the elaborateShanti and Anushasana Parvas. From Day 1 to Day 10, from the 11th day till the death Abhimanyu, then till the 15th evening and from Day 16 till the end of the 17th day, Dhritarashtra had no news till Sanjaya rushed back to report that Abhimanyu, Drona, Karna and Shalya had fallen. Sanjaya’s narration begins from VI.15 stating that ‘this long-distance hearing and vision, this insight into people’s mind and into past and future, this power of flaying in space, this immunity to war-weapons’ are his by Vyasa’s grace. His presence on the battlefield is testified to in VI.94.46 where he says, ‘though I and Devavrata kept shouting’ at the soldiers not to flee from Ghatotkacha’s illusions, they paid no heed. In section 30 of the Drona Parva he mentions hearing the twang of the Gandiva to his right and speaks of joining Drona’s division as the Kauravas are beaten back, of facing Chekitana in the field and in section 200 of witnessing Bhima’s incredible tackling of Ashvatthama’s attack. He is one of the five (the others being Arjuna, Kripa, Krishna and Yudhishthira) who alone saw the ascent of Drona’s soul to Brahma’s abode (VII.192.57-58). An intriguing bit of information contained in theDrona Parva is usually overlooked amid the welter of action: the blind king was not closeted in Hastinapura but was at least sometimes in Kurukshetra. After Abhimanyu’s death Dhritarashtra’s enquires of Sanjaya why he cannot hear any joyous sounds of dancers, bards and minstrels from the Kaurava camp as he used to while sitting in Somadatta’s camp.

Before the battle begins, we are given detailed descriptions of the Kaurava array led by Bhishma in a white helmet, white armour, under a white umbrella, in a silver chariot with his white palm-tree-symbolled flag fluttering. It is not Arjuna but Yudhishthira who is demoralised, vishadamagamad, at the sight of Duryodhana’s huge army and, as with Uttara, it is Arjuna who restores his morale, drawing upon on an ancient god-vs-demon battle narrative whose lesson is, ‘Victory is where Krishna is’ (VI.23). The next section is abruptly cut off at the seventh stanza with the exultant adversaries about to clash and the Gita begins, continuing till the fifth stanza of section 43. In the sixth shloka we find armies surging forward, as though the 20 sections in-between had not occurred, and are treated to a unique spectacle: Yudhishthira steps down armourless and weaponless from his chariot and proceeds on foot to the Kuru elders! Were Arjuna’s vishada and laying down the bow suggested by this? Each patriarch repeats a formulaic phrase: ‘a man is the slave of need’I am tied to the Kauravas by need’I say this like a eunuch.’ Later Drona and Bhishma recall the bread eaten in Duryodhana’s house (VI.77.71; 109.29). As with Krishna and Kunti’s master stroke of strategy that succeeded in weakening Karna’s animosity, this action of Yudhishthira’s wins him a signal moral advantage. By obtaining the blessings of the elders for victory, Yudhishthira fulfils Gandhari’s prophetic warning to her son in theUdyoga Parva that though the elders may fight for him with their bodies, their hearts and good wishes will ever be with the Pandavas. At this stage Krishna once again approaches Karna, trying to persuade him that since he will not fight so long as Bhishma is alive, he might as well fight on the Pandava side. Karna resolutely refuses to be part of such sophistry and undermine his friend in any way. Then, in a final master stroke aiming at demoralising the enemy, Yudhishthira openly invites defection and succeeds with Yuyutsu, born of a Vaishya handmaid to the blind king, of whom we have not heard anything till now. The reader would expect Vikarna, who spoke up so powerfully against his elders in the dicing match, to have responded instead, but his fraternal loyalty obviously holds, ending finally when Bhima reluctantly kills him. In the Drona Parva we suddenly find Dhritarashtra revealing a heroic feature about Yuyutsu that is never mentioned elsewhere: there was a bitter six-month-long battle in Varanavata where he remained undefeated and slew the Kashi king’s son, a notorious philanderer (VII.10.58-60). He is specifically mentioned by Krishna as severely rebuking the Kauravas for rejoicing after killing a boy (VII.72.63-67).

Sanjaya, in VI.9.74-75, uses an image that recurs at significant points of the epic, spoken by different protagonists: ‘Like dogs snarling over a chunk of meat,/These rajas are squabbling over this earth./And they cannot be satiated.’ The dice-game image is brought in towards the end (VI.115.45): ‘It was victory or defeat, with Bhishma as the stake,/It was a game of dice played by two armies.’ Drona shows Duryodhana the battle in terms of the dice-game (VII.130.20-21) with warriors as gamblers, arrows the dice, Jayadratha the pawn.

As with Abhimanyu later, Arjuna is unaware of his son Iravat’s death till informed by Bhima and then he tells Krishna that though he may be branded a weakling (VI.96.5, 11):

‘This has been a heinous war’
all for the sake of wealth’
we have killed for property!
Dhik! Shame on the wealth that comes
from killing kinsmen!…
But this killing of my kinsmen
is not to my liking.’

This could be referring to Krishna’s reprimand in the Gita. He curses the Kshatriya code and himself again in abject disillusionment after knocking Kripa unconscious:

‘Is there anyone
Like me
Hating a Brahmin and an acharya?…
My karma today deserves that hell’ (VII.147.16-27).

Following Drona’s death, he laments that the little of life left to them will be stained permanently because they killed their guru

‘to enjoy briefly a kingdom’
Because I too
Lusted for a kingdom
I failed to prevent
The murder of my guru.
Head lowered in shame,
I will go to hell’ (VII.196.46, 53).

This is hardly the Gita’s ‘sthitaprajna’ in practice! Arjuna will repeat this sentiment to Duhshala in the Ashvamedhika Parva blaming the warrior’s way of life in the same terms. In its 15th verse the Drona Parva states that the cousins re-examined Kshatriya dharma after Bhishma died, each condemning his sva-dharma. This introspection recurs after Abhimanyu’s death with Dhritarashtra exclaiming (VII.33.23), ‘How terrible is this war-code called Kshatriya dharma/that makes power-hungry men kill a small boy!’

In section 23, at Krishna’s instance, Arjuna invokes Durga for blessing him with victory, a passage occurring only in the Bengali and Devanagari manuscripts. The episode is repeated at greater length in the Mahabhagavata Purana where Krishna is an incarnation of Kali or Bhadrakali (the first appellatives by which Arjuna invokes Durga in the epic passage). Arjuna’s invocation resembles that in the Devi Mahatmya and markedly differs from Yudhishthira’s to Durga in the Virata Parva, where she is addressed as Krishna’s sister and of Nandagopa’s family.

Day 1 goes in favour of Duryodhana. We, who usually shrug the eldest Pandava away as a pacifist, are surprised to find Yudhishthira complaining to Krishna that Arjuna fights like uninvolved spectator (possibly following the letter, not the spirit of detached karma!), indifferently watching the destruction of own forces. That is when he announces that Dhrishtyadumna will command the Pandava forces and all ponder the meaning of the announcement till he explains that Dhrishtyadyumna is ordained by Shambhu to slay Drona. We now come to know that Drupada’s black-magic abhichara rite had invoked Shambhu, producing Dhrishtadyumna and Draupadi. Similarly, in the Drona Parva we are told that Shikhandi was the result of Shiva’s boon to Drupada for a Bhishma-killing son as was Bhurishrava to Somadatta to take revenge on Shini. The shadow of destructive Rudra looms over Kurukshetra. Bhima is specifically compared to Shankar, Rudra, and trident wielding Shiva during his grisly exploits, as is Arjuna repeatedly in his destructive fury. Significantly, Ashvatthama is identified with Rudra, looking forward to the horrific carnage he perpetrates in the Sauptika Parva. The climactic touch comes at the end of the Drona Parva where Arjuna tells Vyasa that though the opponents thought they were being routed by him, it was really a dazzling male form, trident in hand, who preceded him and created havoc whichever way he turned. Vyasa reveals that this was the primal lord, Ishana-Shankara, carried by Durga in her arms in the form of a babe with five tufts of hair. The myth of Barbarika rings a change on this when his bodiless head tells the Pandavas’who are disputing over who routed the enemies’that he saw the Sudarshana discuss whizzing through the battlefield, beheading thousands, and Draupadi in Kali form running behind, drinking up all the blood.

The first major casualty is Virata’s son Shveta who, due to some differences with his father, sought refuge with Pandavas (VI.49.4-5). Shveta must have had some connection with eastern India as the episode is not known beyond a few Bengali and Devanagari mss and the 11th century Old Javanese recension. On the second day there is an interesting elaboration on the charioteer’s role and on Bhima’s grisly swordsmanship. We learn that eastern India was renowned for its war elephants and had no liking for Krishna and his instruments the Pandavas. The Kalinga and Vanga kings and Bhagadatta of Pragjyotishpura (Assam) are important allies of Duryodhana. The Tamraliptas (today’s Tamluk in West Bengal) are clubbed along with mlecchas like Shakas, Kiratas, Daradas, Barbaras’all on the Kaurava side. Finding Satyaki unstoppable, Duryodhana finally turns loose the hill-tribes (Daradas, Tanganas, Khasas, Lampakas, Kulindas) expert in stone-warfare, of which both armies are ignorant (section 121), but Satyaki routs them. Indeed, this parva becomes a celebration of Yadava prowess, represented by Abhimanyu and Satyaki who equal Arjuna and Krishna in their battlecraft. Krishna, seeing Satyaki chariotless and about to face Karna, provides him his own chariot driven by Daruka.

On Day 2 Yudhishthira advises adopting the krauncha formation, a never before used vyuha, and the day goes to the Pandavas. This is the only occasion on which all the conches of the Pandavas are named (VI.51.26-27): Krishna’s Panchajanya, Arjuna’s Devadatta, Bhima’s Paundra, Yudhishthira’s Anantavijaya, Nakula’s Sughosha, Sahadeva’s Manipushpaka. Day 3 sees a breakdown of the codes of battle, which recurs on the 10th day, with confusion prevailing and no quarter given regardless of the status of the opponent. Arjuna uses a celestial missile for the first time: Mahendra, followed by Vayavya and then Aindra. The reason is that Krishna, losing patience with Arjuna’s half-hearted fighting, leaps off the chariot and rushes to kill Bhishma, the discuss miraculously appearing in his hand. Without turning a hair, the patriarch welcomes him, glorying in dying at the hands of the Lord of all:

ehyehi devesa jagannivasa namohastu te madhava cakrapa’e
prashya ma’ pataye lokanatha rathottama’ sarvasara’ya sa’khye

The incident is repeated on Day 9, where the description is less elaborate and more realistic with Krishna flourishing his charioteer’s whip. Bhishma’s welcome to Krishna is less exaggerated:

ehyehi pundarikak’a devadeva namohastu te
mamadya satvatasre’ha patayasva mahahave

This later incident must have been the inspiration for a later Vaishanavite composer to insert the episode, with miraculous embellishments, into the third day. Krishna breaks his vow again in the Drona Parva when, to save Arjuna, he receives Bhagadatta’s Vaishnava missile on his chest, where it turns into a celestial garland. To assuage Arjuna’s bruised ego, he recounts the vyuha doctrine of his four-fold existence’ a sure indication of interpolation. Following Drona’s murder, the infuriated Ashvatthama releases the invincible Narayana missile which is neutralised by Krishna. The name of the weapon and Krishna’s intervention bereft of any miraculous transformation indicates that this was the incident on which the Vaishnava missile incident was modelled subsequently to introduce a miraculous element and deify Krishna.

On Day 4 Bhima makes his first kill of the Dhartarashtras: Senapati, followed by seven more. When Duryodhana asks Bhishma to explain the secret behind the Pandavas’ success, he is told about the Pancharatra cult. Bhishma’s account of the creation of the four varnas harks back to the hymn to Purusha in theRig Veda. An intriguing reference is made to Vishnu killing only Madhu, with no mention of Kaitava, and being called Janardana, the people-churner (it could be a reference to the wielding of the rod of punishment to control the wicked, which Arjuna later celebrates as the foundation of dharma). Duryodhana is uncharacteristically impressed and thinks highly of Krishna and the Pandavas’again a sure sign of interpolation.. The 3rd day incident, Bhishma’s discourse to Duryodhana, Dhritarashtra extolling Krishna’s divinity in VII.11 and, at the end of this book, Ashvatthama being similarly impressed by Vyasa’s explanation that Krishna is Narayana who is Rudra are obvious Vaishnavite interpolations.

Sanjaya minces no words in telling home truths to Dhritarashtra, reading him a lecture (VI.65.22-26) in the law of karma’ reaping as he has sown, suffering the fruits of his own misdeeds, tasting the fruit in this life and later. Often he repeats his admonition that the king is like a dying man refusing medicine and that he ought not to blame his son now for his own sins of commission and omission. He also explains that Krishna decided war was the only option on finding that despite his proposing peace the blind king was devious in dharma and, motivated by envy of the Pandavas, persisted in making crooked plans against them (VII.114.51-53).

In the battle descriptions certain formulaic metaphors occur frequently, such as of son and father, brothers, nephew and maternal uncle non-recognition and mutual slaughter, the horrific river of blood, wounded warriors looking like flames-of-the-forest etc. The reader is often taken aback by Vyasa’s use of conceits where two completely different objects are brought into violent conjunction: an arrow stuck in the forehead is like a lotus on a long stem; elephants drag chariots as if uprooting lotuses in a lake, the Kaurava army is vulnerable as a tipsy girl on a highway or standing senseless like a lovely limbed weak willed girl, the battlefield is as beautiful as the autumn sky flecked with red sunset clouds, or a haunting sight, glowing everywhere with softly flaming fires of blood stained armour and gold ornaments; littered with handsome faces with well-trimmed beards and ornamented, the earth looks like the sky scintillating with stars or like a lovely girl adorned with multiple jewels, strewn with golden girdles, glittering necklaces, gold-plated darts, golden breastplates. Arrows speed gracefully like flocks of birds settling on a tree with delicious fruit or slide into a body like swans gliding into the waters of a lake, or shoot up like birds from trees at early dawn. The princes slain by Abhimanyu are like five-year-old mango trees about to fruit shattered by a severe storm. Warriors pierced with golden-feathered arrows are like trees full of glow-worms. The transcreator lends a fine Shakespearean touch to the description of supine heroes who, ‘though dead, looked as if they were alive’ (VI.96.54). An unusual image surfaces on Day-9 of the Pandavas chasing Bhishma like the Asuras attacking Indra and, conversely, like the gods staring at Danava Vipracitti, facing Bhishma who is Death (VI.108.34, 39). The ineffable beauty of the description of exhausted warriors lying asleep and of the rising moon spreading its radiance over the battlefield (VII.184) is brought into violent clash with the blood-letting that follows. There is the unique passage of pathos embedded in the narrative when Duryodhana recalls the sweet childhood days Satyaki and he shared when he faces him in battle.

In VI.110.31 we come across a lost myth of Indra fighting the Asura Maya. The duel with Shrutayudha becomes the occasion for recounting the mini-myth of Varuna’s wondrous mace (Krishna’s Kaumodaki mace and Sudarshana chakra are also Varuna’s gifts). The brief battle with Shrutayu that follows has one of those extremely rare instances of Arjuna fainting (VII.93.12-19). VI.90 supplements the account of the Arjuna-Ulupi romance in the Sabha Parva. In recounting Iravat’s history, Sanjaya states that Garuda having killed Ulupi’s husband, she was in despair. Her father Airavata gave her to Arjuna, whom she desired. Iravat, abandoned by his wicked maternal uncle who hated Arjuna (possibly Takshaka), met his father in Indra’s realm and was requested to join the war. Curiously, Babhruvahana does not join his father in the battle. Iravat is the first Pandava scion to die, killed by the rakshasa Alambusha in the form of a garuda. Iravat is a very important figure in the south Indian cult of Draupadi, where, because his body carries all the auspicious signs, he becomes a willing sacrifice prior to the war to ensure the victory of the Pandavas. In the Drona Parva first Arjuna and then Bhima lose their sons, while Ghatotkacha loses his son Anjanaparva to Ashvatthama.

There is a misconception that Abhimanyu fighting six warriors alone is a unique situation. We find Bhurishravas taking on Satyaki’s ten sons simultaneously and beheading the lot. Bhishma is attacked by 6 or 7 warriors together frequently. In VI.86.16 there is a circular stranglehold of chariots around Bhishma, similar to what Abhimanyu faces. The difference is that where, in the Bhishma Parva, Abhimanyu pierces through the Kaurava ranks, leading Draupadi’s sons, the five Kekayas (sons of Kunti’s sister) and Dhrishtaketu in a needle-point formation to rescue Bhima, the latter is unable to replicate this in the Drona Parva where Jayadratha frustrates all attempts to aid Abhimanyu.

The special regard Krishna has for Arjuna is brought out more than once in these two books. In VI.107.36 Krishna tells Yudhishthira:

‘Arjuna is my sakha
my love-and-loving friend,
my relative and pupil.
I will cut off my flesh
for Phalguna.’

In VII.79 he tells Daruka that the world means nothing to him without Arjuna and whoever injures him, harms Krishna, for Arjuna is half of him. In VII.182.43-44 he tells Satyaki that his parents, brothers, his own life are less dear to him than Arjuna, and that he would not want to possess at the cost of losing Arjuna something more precious than all the three worlds. An interesting parallel to this duo (often called the two Krishnas on one chariot, as in VI.81.41) occurs when Dhrishtadyumna exclaims (VI.77.31-34) that life is meaningless without Bhima, ‘my sakha, my loved-and-loving friend, my devoted bhakta as I am his’. Like Arjuna in the Virata Parva, Dhristadyumna uses a special weapon to make the Kauravas fall senseless (VI.77.48).

At the end of Day 8, which goes very badly for Duryodhana, with many of his brothers slaughtered, he reproaches Karna for standing aside. Defying the much-touted virtue of undying loyalty to his friend, Karna’s pride takes precedence and he stands firm on not joining so long as Bhishma fights. It is this egotistical obduracy that erodes whatever chances Duryodhana has to win the war in the first ten days. Karna’s much-vaunted heroism stands exposed as he has to flee the field several times. Even Dhritarashtra exclaims that he has lost every battle fought against the Pandavas, ‘But my stupid son seems to be unaware of this’ (VII.133.9). Kripa mocks him for his empty bombast and when he insults Kripa, Ashvatthama pounces on him with drawn sword recounting how he has often been routed (VII.158).

Bhishma is truly a man at war with himself: he will neither kill any Pandava, nor will he stand aside from fighting for Duryodhana. He insults Karna grossly, ensuring that he opts out of battle. It is as if he were hoping to cause so much slaughter that, exhausted, both sides will agree to disengage. Otherwise why should he go on killing for the longest period among any of the Kaurava generals? Day 10 is a deeply moving narrative, with Bhishma repeatedly urging Yudhishthira to kill him as he has lost the desire to live (VI.115.15). The battle rages around him as if the patriarch were the stake in a dice-game. Turning away from Shikhandi, Bhishma smiles and tells Duhshasana that the arrows wounding him mortally must be Arjuna’s and cannot be Shikhandi’s for they strike his weakest spots deep, ‘Like baby-crabs emerging/after cannibalizing their mother/they are devouring me’ (VI.119.66). Ultimately, there is not even two-fingers-breadth of exposed skin left on his body!

Curiously, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari make no move to meet the fallen patriarch until the war gets over, which argues for his having been killed as indeed is often stated quite bluntly. At the end of the Bhishma Parva and again at the beginning of the Drona Parva Sanjaya describes Karna rushing to meet the fallen Bhishma to get his permission to fight. The patriarch unveils for him the secret of his parentage which Karna already knows from Krishna. Bhishma considers his birth adharmika,jatohasi dharmalopena. It may very well indicate that the story of the god Surya engendering him was not believed by the patriarch who frowned upon this instance of unwed motherhood. Bhishma tells Karna that such a birth warped his discrimination so that he chose to mix with the mean and was jealous of the noble (VI.122.12-13). Though Arjuna’s equal, these undermined him. This is substantiated in the Drona Parva when Arjuna berates Karna for his ignoble conduct in abusing Bhima although the latter had never spoken a harsh word to him despite uncharioting him repeatedly:

‘You must have a low mind
To speak as you do.
You say things
That should never be said.’ (VII.148.19-23)

Karna’s response to Bhishma is that of a tragic hero: fate is inevitable, struggle cannot overcome it, but he is obliged to pay with his life for the favours received. When Duryodhana complains about Drona’s failures, Karna’s reply sounds surprisingly like Krishna’s to Arjuna on performing kartavyam karma:

‘Do your duty,
And do it fearlessly.
Whether what you do
Succeeds or fails’
That’s in the hands of fate.’ (VII.152.31)

Envy of the much younger Arjuna is the driving force of his being and he remains obsessively true to his ‘sva-dharma’ of being the egotistical sublime till the bitter end. We recall that Duryodhana had declared him ruler of Anga, but here we come across Bhima killing the ruler of Anga who is called a ‘mleccha’ (VII.26.17).

Duryodhana’s soldiers can only imagine Karna as Bhishma’s replacement, not Drona. Karna discerns that he may not be universally acceptable as the commander and, for once swallowing his pride and listening to reason, advises the reluctant Duryodhana to install as Bhishma’s successor the guru: ‘Ear-long white hair,/shyama-dark the complexion, eighty-five years old,/Drona moved like a boy of sixteen’ (VII.125.73)’a description Sanjaya repeats when he is beheaded (VII.192.64-65). With this the horrors of war abruptly exacerbate. The first warning bell is rung with Satyaki beheading the armless, meditating Bhurishrava, presaging the manner of Drona’s death. That incident reveals that strong opposing views prevailed about the Vrishnis. When Arjuna suddenly intervenes in the duel and slices off his arm, Bhurishravas is astonished at his uncharacteristic conduct and attributes it to his keeping company with the Vrishnis and Adhakas who ‘are mean and vicious’ and making them his models (VII.143.16). Sanjaya counters this by extolling the nobility and virtue of the Vrishnis to explain their invincibility to Dhritarashtra (VII.144.26-32). Then there is the horrendous battle at night, fought by lamp-torch-and-moon-light. Next, six heroes combine to kill a sixteen year old. One cannot believe one’s ears when the revered guru advises Karna to cut Abhimanyu’s bow and armour from behind so that he can be killed. We recall how he played favourites, disabling Ekalavya and giving his own son special coaching, used his pupils to grab half of Drupada’s kingdom (if he was such a mighty hero, why did he not do this by himself?), uttered no protest when Draupadi was abused. Bhima brutally tells him to his face that, obsessed by love for his son, he forgot his dharma of ahimsa to chase after wealth and killed thousands (VII.192.38-40). Drona is no different from Dhritarashtra in this respect. This is the person after whom India has named the award for its best sports coach! His brother-in-law Kripa (a foundling reared by Shantanu) is no better. Despite being the first guru of the family, not only does he join in the killing of the youth, but assists Ashvatthama in the horrific carnage of sleeping combatants. Strangely, Vyasa has not a single word to say against Kripa!

After Jayadratha is killed, a gruesome picture of the battlefield is described to Arjuna by Krishna (VII.148) which is comparable to that in the Stri Parva. Ghatotkacha and Alambusha’s chariots are in a class apart, made of iron, of huge size, drawn by massive beasts and their duels are truly horripilating. Sauti may seem to be nodding when Alambusha, who has already been pummelled to death Bhima-style by Ghatotkacha (VII.109) is again beheaded by Satyaki (VII.140). However, in the latter instance, the rakshasa killed is ‘Alabala’ according to the Critical Edition.

There is no epic evidence for the popular tale of Abhimanyu learning the secret of penetrating the discus formation while in Subhadra’s womb. Arjuna’s behaviour is most curious. He knows that his primary responsibility is to prevent Yudhishthira from being captured by Drona, yet when the Trigarta suicide-squad challenges him, he suddenly announces his vow never to refuse a challenge and follows them far away, resulting in Abhimanyu’s death. Not only does Krishna remain silent, but later he praises Arjuna, as never elsewhere, for surpassing the gods in killing, single-handed, innumerable samshaptakas. Satyaki, Arjuna’s disciple, similarly suddenly recalls a vow to justify killing the meditating Bhurishrava. However, when Arjuna announces his vow to kill Jayadratha before sunset, Krishna does reprimand him for the rash decision taken without consulting him. In his dreams, Arjuna himself becomes apprehensive that he will fail and must commit suicide. This becomes the occasion for Krishna taking him to Shiva to obtain the Pashupata weapon. Once again at a critical juncture Shiva intervenes. However, it is a weapon never used except by Drona and is then ineffective! Similarly, when Ghatotkacha flings the spike-studded Rudra weapon at Karna, he throws it back at him incinerating the rakshasa’s chariot.

Then comes the gut-churning killing of Abhimanyu, grandfather of the yajamana of the snake-holocaust during which the epic is recited. The reader should note that there has been no lamentation earlier when Abhimanyu killed Duryodhana’s son Lakshmana. On Drona’s advice, Karna slices the youth’s bow from behind, Kritavarma kills his horses, Kripa slays his two escorts, Drona slices his sword, Karna shreds his shield, all jointly splinter the wheel he wields. Undeterred, Abhimanyu’Bhishma-like resembling a porcupine’attacks Ashvatthama who leaps away from his mace that pulverises his horses and both escorts. It is particularly puzzling that Duhshasana’s son, who smashes to pulp the recumbent Abhimanyu’s skull, should remain nameless and Vyasa never tells us what happened to him. One of the opponents Abhimanyu routs is of interest because of a possible historical reference: Paurava, whom van Buitenen links to Alexander’s Poros. Another instance is when Satyaki routs the Shurasenas referred to by Megasthenes (VII.141.9). In a rare instance of puranic irony, the Surya dynasty of Ayodhya is wiped out by Abhimanyu, incarnation of Chandra’s son, when he slays its last descendant Brihadbala. If we keep in mind theAmsavatarana, several conundrums surface where divinities clash, reminding us of the Iliad: Indra-Arjuna kills Vasu-Bhishma and Surya-Karna; Agni-Dhrishtadyumna kills Brihaspati-Drona and is killed by Shiva-Ashvatthama. Dhritarashtra’s lament over Abhimanyu’s death contains a cryptic statement in which lies the seed of a wonderful tale to be told later by Vidura to console the king that travelled over continents to be known in the Occident as the story of the man in the well told by Barlaam to Josephat: ‘In my eagerness to lick honey/I failed to foresee the fall from the tree.’ (VII.51.15)

The other major incident is Krishna getting Karna to expend his infallible missile on Ghatotkacha. Following this, Vyasa paints for us a picture that is literally horripilating. Krishna roars with joy, hugs Arjuna repeatedly, thumps his back and dances about ‘like a tree swaying in the wind.’ Arjuna is shocked and the explanation provided needs to be read carefully. With his skin-armour and earrings and then with Indra’s weapon, not even Krishna and Arjuna together could have defeated Karna. That is why Krishna did not allow Arjuna to face Karna so far (VII.147.34-35). In that context, section 148 is clearly inconsistent where, hearing Bhima’s complaint of being abused by Karna, Arjuna goes up to him and reads him a lecture on his meanness of mind. Perceptively, the blind monarch exclaims,

‘When a dog and a boar fight
It’s the hunter who gains.
In the clash between Karna
And Hidimba’s son Ghatotkaca,
The winner was Vasudeva-Krishna.’ (VII.182.8)

To his question as to why Karna never used the infallible missile against Arjuna, Sanjaya responds that night after night he, Duryodhana, Shakuni and Duhshasana used to advise Karna to use it against Krishna, ‘the root of the Pandavas’. But, during battle Krishna invariably confused them by making others face Karna. Sanjaya goes on to narrate that Satyaki also asked Krishna the same question and was told ‘It was I who confused/The son of Radha’ (VII.182.40). Krishna now reveals (VII.181) that in order to lighten the balance of forces against Arjuna, he had systematically got rid of Jarasandha (who could be killed because Balarama destroyed his infallible mace), Shishupala and Ekalavya (this remains an untold tale) and would have killed Ghatotkacha one day since he was a dharma-destroyer:

‘I will destroy all
Who destroy dharma’
Brahma-sacred texts, truth, self-
Control, purity, dharma, humility,
Shri-prosperity, patience, constancy’
Where these are,
There I am.’ (VII.181.28-30)

Krishna’s clarity of focus becomes unnerving at times, as when he urges Arjuna to kill Kritavarma’a Yadava’without consideration of the relationship. At such times we need to recollect that his career began with killing his maternal uncle, then his cousin Shishupala and that Ekalavya who is another cousin of his. Moreover, Kritavarma was a rival of Krishna for the hand of Satyabhama in the Syamantaka gem affair and was one of Abhimanyu’s killers.

As we read the parva it becomes clear that stoking the flames of the Pandava-Dhartarashtra rivalry is the animosity between two classmates, Drona and Drupada, fed by the smouldering embers of the ancient Brahmin-Kshatriya conflict that Parashurama had drowned in lakes of kshatriya blood. When pressed to use his celestial weapons for victory, Drona agrees to do so, though aware that this is ignoble because the warriors are ignorant of these, to please Duryodhana. As he assures Duryodhana (VII.185.12), Parashurama’s disciple Drona gives no quarter to the Panchalas. He kills his arch-enemy Drupada, the three sons of Dhristadyumna and Virata. The major allies of the Pandavas, two of their sons and one grandson are, thus, slaughtered by their guru and his son who will finally exterminate the entire Panchala clan. Curiously enough, none of the Pandavas mention Duhshasana’s son as Abhimanyu’s killer, not even Yudhishthira in his extremely significant complaint to Krishna that instead of attacking Drona, the architect of his son’s death, Arjuna targeted Jayadratha who merely prevented help from reaching the youth. Yudhishthira is so infuriated that he sets out to kill Karna and has to be restrained by no less a person than Vyasa. Thereupon he commands Dhrishtadyumna to kill Drona whom Arjuna always bypasses. It is as though Krishna’s sermon had not happened (which, indeed, may very well be the case in the Ur-text).

Sanjaya has a very revealing comment about the Pandavas when they jointly attack Drona. Bhima and the twins were ‘crooked-minded’ and separated the Kauravas from the guru so that the Panchalas could kill him. Dhrishtadyumna cuts off the head of the meditating preceptor, just as Satyaki had beheaded Bhurishrava. Here it is important to dispel the popular misconception that following Yudhishthira’s lie (it is interesting that Arjuna refused to do so), Drona laid down his weapons. Bankimchandra Chatterjee analysed the text at length in Krishnacharitra (1892) to show that Drona did not stop fighting but began using the Brahmastra unethically. When Drona was rebuked by seers for the heinous act of using celestial weapons against those not conversant with them and directed to discard his weapons, he continued to destroy thirty thousand soldiers and even defeated Dhrishtadyumna who had to be rescued by Bhima. It is only after Bhima abused him for abandoning his dharma out of greed for the sake of his son that he discarded weapons. There was, therefore, no impact of the false news of Ashvatthama’s death. Neither theAnukramanika nor the Parvasamgraha refer to it. Krishna’s narrative to his father in the Ashvamedhika states that the guru was worn out by the strain of battle. On a very sound basis, therefore, Bankimchandra classified it as an interpolation. After his father’s death, Ashvatthama erupts in fury but, disorientated at Arjuna foiling his Agneya missile, he flees to Vyasa for an explanation. Hearing that Narayana, who is Krishna, is one with Rudra (whose devotee Ashvatthama is), he retreats with his army. The parva ends, ominously, with an elaborate paean to Rudra, the shatarudriya chant.

Bhishma’s fall had not led to any acrimony, but now Arjuna bitterly berates his brother-in-law for killing the guru and is soundly reprimanded in return. The Pandava camp now erupts in violence, bursting through the lid of compromise Krishna repeatedly weighs down over the seething cauldron of hidden agenda. Arjuna blames Yudhishthira and Dhristhadyumna who retorts and then Satyaki and the Panchala prince trade insults and come to blows, having to be restrained by Bhima and Sahadeva with great difficulty. Dhrishtadyumna bluntly states that both sides have used adharma as convenient for the sake of victory. Worse is to come in the Karna Parva where the smouldering resentment among the brothers, only a spark of which emerged during the game of dice, bursts out into the open.

The Complete Bhishma & Drona Parvas transcreated from Sanskrit
by Padma Sri P.Lal, Writers Workshop, Calcutta.

What the Ancillary Stories do in the Mahabharata

By

V. Adluri and J. Bagchee: Argument and Design—the unity of the Mahabharata. Brill, 2016, 478 pages, price not stated.

Traditional Indological scholarship has believed in early Kshatriya ballads being edited into the Mahabharata (MB). Alf Hiltebeitel, once of the most prolific and provocative of MB scholars, has persistently been advocating that it is the written work of a committee of Brahmins of the Panchala area between 150 BCE and 100 CE. A few years ago Adluri, his devoted shishya, and Bagchee, Adluri’s nephew-cum-chela in the parampara, collected the guru’s papers in two volumes running to over 1200 pages. Now they have edited a superb collection of papers by twelve MB scholars from Europe, Australia, Canada and the USA with two articles by Hiltebeitel preceding and rounding off the set. As usual with conferences held abroad, India is not represented although the epic is grounded there. In India, on the other hand, no seminar on her ancient traditions is considered worthwhile unless some foreign scholars feature, irrespective of the standard of their contribution.

What provoked this book’s riveting outpouring is Hiltebeitel’s proposition that the “sub-tales” are not fringe episodes or “digressions” as Sukthankar, the editor of the Critical Edition, called them, but are central to the architectonics of the MB. The papers, all focusing on this argument, featured in the 41st annual conference on South Asia in Madison, Wisconsin, in October 2012. From the excellent Foreword by R.P. Goldman, editor of the translation of the Ramayana’s Critical Edition (R), it is clear that the book is very much of a Festschrift from loving friends, admiring colleagues and students. Adluri provides a fine Introduction happily titled, “From supplementary narratives to narrative supplements,” presenting a succinct survey of the highlights. As Goldman points out, thematic proximity is what characterizes these stories which are by no means lesser or subordinate tales. Adluri proposes that they are the best way to rethink the nature of the MB as the repository of all knowledge.

Hiltebeitel notes that among the various terms the MB applies to itself one is upakhyana, a non-Vedic word which might be used for the first time here and not occurring in the R. He lists 67 stories (almost 15% of the epic’s total slokas) that are so termed, taking “the reverberations between them as a kind of sonar with which to plumb the epic’s depths.” Bowles and Brodbeck in their papers locate 5 more. Whereas akhyana is a long narrative often interrupted, the upakhyana is a major tale that is not broken up. These are almost all addressed to the Pandavas (primarily Yudhishthira) and a few to Duryodhana and Karna. In saying that only one is narrated by a woman (Kunti to Pandu) Hiltebeitel overlooks the fiery tale of Vidula she tells Krishna for retelling to her sons for screwing their courage to the sticking place so as not to fail. Where tales are repeated, they are always from a different angle. Because of this, Hiltebeitel argues for reading the Shanti and the Anushasana Parvas as part of the total design, not as the consequence of “an anthology-by-anthology approach.” It is relevant that the MB’s oldest parva list occurring in the Spitzer manuscript (c. 250 CE) does not have the Anushasana. It might have formed part of the Shanti at that time as it does in the Indonesian MB. These stories build up a nexus of values such as anrishansya (non-cruelty), friendship, hospitality, gratitude. This is not so clear in the R. In discussing the Parashurama-Rama encounter, Hiltebeitel erroneously states that the former demands that the latter break Vishnu’s bow and he does so (p. 50). Actually, Parashurama challenges him to shoot an arrow with the bow, which Rama does, blocking his path to Swarga. There is a pattern in the encounters Rama has with sages: Hiltebeitel claims that he meets all the eight founders of Brahmin lineages, arguing not very convincingly that Rishyashringa is a substitute for his grandfather Kashyapa and Parashurama for Jamadagni. Childless Parashurama cannot be considered a gotra-founder. Seven of these rishis make up the Saptarshi constellation, pointing Rama southwards. Hiltebeitel argues that the two epics have similar designs and therefore the MB’s story of Rama, beginning with material from canto 7 of the R, cannot be an epitome of Valmiki’s epic. Valmiki went beyond it to posit new values about dharma based upon a bhakti relationship between subjects and monarch, bolstered by rishis of Vedic antiquity. In the course of this discussion, Hiltebeitel very uncharacteristically calls for correcting the Critical Edition of the MB (held sacrosanct by him and his ilk), for having turned the 18 chapter “Narayaniya” section of the Mokshadharma Parva into 19, thereby spoiling his ideal “18” paradigm. This smacks of that very “higher criticism” which he is wont to condemn. He contends that these upakhyanas aim at churning out the secret of achieving liberation through dharma and truth, something that Shuka attains and finally Yudhishthira too. But does he? After all, in Swarga he is prevented from putting a question to Draupadi-Shri.

Robert Goldman argues that upakhyana does not connote subordinate tales but rather complementary or supplementary narratives that are instructive in nature, repeating motifs in the main story. He examines the R’s Uttarakanda as such a narrative encapsulating core components of the MB’s central story. Here the poet appears to be attempting to project Rama as the chakravartin who achieves universal imperium through conquest as idealised in the MB. It is only in this last canto that we find mention of armies of 300 rajas massing, too late, to help Rama in besieging Lanka. After the rajasuya yagya Yudhishthira’s sway extends from Antioch in the West to China in the East. But why should this imperial concept be seen as emulating the Persian Empire? Further, Yudhishthira certainly does not “lay waste to all rival kingdoms” and commit “wholesale slaughter” for the rajasuya. Unlike the Dharmaraja, Rama does not annex kingdoms (not even Lanka). He establishes Shatrughna to rule in Mathura. Bharata conquers Gandhara by releasing a WMD annihilating thirty million gandharvas— veritable ethnic cleansing— and establishes his sons at Pushkaravati (Peshawar) and Takshashila. Then Rama commands Lakshmana to take over Karupatha without bloodshed. He refrains from the rajasuya because Bharata convinces him that the world is already under his sway. The horse-sacrifice which he performs instead at Lakshmana’s suggestion emulates Dasharatha’s in being devoid of conquests or battles. It is not only Bhavabhuti (8th century CE) who sought to remedy this omission by introducing the battle with Lava and Kusha in Uttararamacharita, as Goldman notes, but also Jaimini who did the same in his MB’s Ashvamedha Parva. Rama is the ideal pacific and righteous emperor, very different from Dharmaraja Yudhishthira who does not shrink from imperial conquests. The Uttarakanda fails to remodel Rama “in the model of the idealized chakravartin, Yudhishthira, held up as an ideal template for Kshatriya rule in the Mahabharata.” Goldman believes that its authors were familiar with the MB. He goes further to suggest a probable chronology as Pushkaravati and Takshashila were major towns of the Persian satrapy of Gandaris and then under Alexander (4th c. BCE) and Menander (2nd c. BCE). Their importance would have inspired the authors to claim them as part of the Kosalan Empire. Would that not hold equally true for the MB which is recited to Janamejaya in Taxila?

Bagchee focuses on the variations in the Shakuntala story in the northern and southern recensions. Like Yagyavalkya defying his maternal uncle-and-guru Vaishampayana, he challenges grand guru Hiltebeitel’s views and proposes a novel concept, viz. that southern scribes composed extra slokas restoring a better sequential order of chapters in terms of Paurava genealogy. He asserts, they “heal the breaches in the text” as they had “an architecture in their heads” (emphasis in the original). This is very much like the “higher criticism” which he condemns strongly otherwise. The order in the southern recension is superior to the northern in which “the transitions…are quite awkward.” He also alleges that the scribes deleted entire segments, as in the beginning of chapter 90. To him the southern version is “a more complete retelling of the Mahabharata.” Hence he suggests rethinking the relation between the two recensions. As he and Adluri are revising the Critical Edition, we will be seeing the results of their editing work seeking to preserve the tradition of the Indian scribes, as they claim. Bagchee asserts that the southern is not descended from the northern, as argued by T.P. Mahadevan and strongly backed by Hiltebeitel. In proposing a common source for both he is reverting to the German theory of an “Ur-Mahabharata”. According to him, Mahadevan is mistaken in saying that Sukthankar chose the shortest text as the archetype because of his training in the German school of Philology. Bagchee himself reveals his own Germanic affiliations by speaking of this being “a case of Vorlage that makes a certain Vorgabe”.

Greg Bailey shows how the section in the Vana Parva dealing with Markandeya’s narratives mirrors the use of multiple and mixed genres in the MB text, besides aiming at providing a “totalistic view of things.” There is theogony, cosmogony, tyrannical rajas, raging rishis and differing views of dharma. There is no overarching plot holding this part together, except that all of it educates Yudhishthira. This is particularly interesting because nothing happens to the Pandavas who are the interlocutors all through. The only actors are the sage and Krishna. The focus appears to be on presenting Brahmins with a unified interpretation of dharma through tales of widely varied content.

Sally Goldman examines the MB’s Ramopakhyana and the R’s account of the Rakshasas in the Uttarakanda to show that sexual transgression by females and misogyny inhere in the demonic in Valmiki’s imagination, not in Vyasa’s. Vyasa is not bothered about Rakshasa women and even omits Ravana’s mother Kaikasi. She holds that the Ramopakhyana is refashioning the Uttarakanda to fit in with its views. Why can it not be the other way round, particularly when it is quite certain that the Uttarakanda is later (cf. Hiltebeitel)? Goldman does not notice that the MB’s version of the R matches its conception of a divine plan played out on earth. Here Brahma sends an apsara to become Manthara in order to ensure Rama’s forest exile.

Bruce Sullivan seeks to find out what Bhima’s encounter with Hanuman can tell us about the MB. Firstly, the MB mostly uses the name “Hanoomaan” instead of “Hanumaan”. Sullivan makes the excellent point that there is no reason to assign several centuries for the size of the MB, or a committee as Hiltebeitel proposes, when Isaac Asimov could write 500 books on subjects covering all ten major categories of the Dewey Decimal System while working as a professor of biochemistry. This episode is the only instance in which Bhima cites knowledge of the quality-less supreme soul (nirgunah paramatmeti) as the reason for not jumping over the monkey, and refuses the amrita-like food offered. Further, he mentions this meeting to no one, not even Hanuman’s presence on Arjuna’s pennant. Even later, when the Pandavas hear the Ramopakhyana, Bhima does not mention that he has met Hanuman. Yet, when he meets Hanuman, he says he is aware of his exploits in the R. Hanuman refers to Rama as Vishnu and uses the word avatara. Besides this, it is a parallel to first Arjuna and then Yudhishthira meeting their fathers, with Bhima’s encounter with Hanuman appropriately in the middle. It also links up with the burning of Khandava when Arjuna received the celestial chariot with a divine ape on the flagstaff, which we are now told is Hanuman. This episode, therefore, seeks to explain Hanuman’s presence on Arjuna’s flagstaff. In this episode Hanuman is linked four times to Indra. In the Rigveda Indra is “Vrishakapi,” the bull-ape. Nowhere else in the MB is the ape on the banner known as Hanuman, which suggests that this episode was added at the very end of its composition. Hanuman’s assuming his incomparable form to teach Bhima about dharma and the yugas, advocating puja with bhakti, is modelled on Krishna’s Gita, as is the forgiveness both brothers beg of the deities. Just as Arjuna alone can see this form of Krishna and hear him, so it is with Bhima and Hanuman, Yudhishthira and Dharma. Sullivan sees a parallel between Bhima’s double quest for wondrous flowers on Gandhamadana and Indra’s mountain-climbing to seek the source of golden lotuses floating in the Ganga. Since here Hanuman is depicted as more divine than in the R, does that indicate composition at a time when he was worshipped as a deity (c. 1st century BCE – 400 CE)? Possibly not, as evidence of such worship comes much later.

Fernando Alonso’s thesis is that the committee writing the MB was presenting an answer to competing ideologies like Buddhism and bhakti following Alexander’s invasion. He focuses on “the architectures of power and the role of Indra”. In doing so he surveys the epic of Gilgamesh where the heroic king is punished by gods for misrule. Both the MB and this epic deal with kings who are intermediaries between men and gods and need to be righteous. Though Alonso asserts that both epics have a divine plan of massacre, in the MB this affects not all humanity, as in Gilgamesh, but only Kshatriyas. Further, how is the good side “degraded…paving the way for their slaughter” when the Pandavas are left unscathed with a resurrected heir? Nor do bad kings or the absence of kings imply attacks by demons or perversion of the social order and a lack of yagyas. None of these occur during Duryodhana’s reign which is extolled by the subjects when they bid tearful farewell to Dhritarashtra. An excellent insight is how sages contribute to the daivic plan through rape (of Matsyagandha), boons (to Kunti, Gandhari, Drona), curses (on Dyaus-Bhishma, Dharma-Vidura, Karna), engendering (by Bharadvaja, Vyasa). Besides incarnating, the gods empower both parties (Arjuna, Shikhandi, Dhrishtadyumna, Draupadi, Jayadratha and Ashvatthama) while the demons possess Duryodhana and Karna. In this list, Alonso misses out Duryodhana whose torso is adamantine being Shiva’s creation but waist-downwards is delicate having been made by Uma. As for Indra, he is much more of a figurehead than Homer’s Zeus who actively intervenes in the Trojan War. In the upakhyanas he is shown as lecherous and scared, never as the demon-smiting Rigvedic hero, but a god who bows to Brahmin-dom. The tirtha stories show that the gods are not all that superior and can be overcome by rishis, asuras and even humans. Their inferiority to Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, to kings like Kuru and even to asuras like Bali and Namuchi is made amply clear. The bhakti trinity has overtaken the Rigvedic deities and Indra has no place in the new bhakti ideology. His Swarga is rejected as inferior to moksha. The critical role is played by Kshatriyas who act like Brahmins (Bhishma’s celibacy, Yudhishthira’s ahimsa) and vice-versa (Drona, Kripa, Ashvatthama) the latter being all on the Kaurava side: “there is no MB without out-of-role Brahmans.” The very onset of the Dvapara epoch is because of Brahmin Parashurama’s massacres, while Yudhishthira’s obsession with nonviolence ushers in Kali Yuga. Alonso proposes that the makers of the MB made it a war story so that it was closed off to competing groups like the Shramanas and their cycles of tales. Thus, the Samyutta Nikaya shows Indra as a devotee of Buddha and the gods as inferior to arhants. It would have been similar in Jain texts.

Adheesh Sathaye tries to make sense of the Madhavi episode by using a unique approach. He conceptualizes the architectonics of the MB as resembling a modern museum whose text panels guide the audience’s reaction to the exhibit. He argues that the story of Galava and Madhavi provides “a unique fusion of morality and political discourse” advocating gathering power through friendship, not conquest. He notes Dumezil’s linking of Madhavi with the Celtic epic heroine Medb, both names deriving from the Indo-European root “medhua” meaning “intoxicating”, which we hear still in the Santhal “mahua,” the Sanskrit “madhu”. It is not cognate to the English “mead” as Sathaye says, that word being Germanic. Sathaye argues that Garuda is shown to be “a morally problematic friend and guide” as he disrespects women in the encounter with the female sanyasi Shandili, foreshadowing Galava’s “pimping” of Madhavi. As he is a pupil of the arch-rebel Vishvamitra, we are predisposed to accept his operating at the fringes of social propriety and his being as stubborn as his guru. Here a story about a different kind of Brahmin is glued on to the Vishvamitra meta-myth. Vishvamitra’s very birth is linked to the black-eared horses he demands from Galava which is also the name of Vishvamitra’s son in the Harivansha. Ashtaka, his son from Madhavi, is a Rigvedic seer. The yagya the grandsons of Yayati perform for him is the epic’s version of the Rigvedic verse 10.179 attributed to three of the same kings (Shibi, Pratardana and Vasumanas) ruling over Kashi, Ayodhya and Bhojapura plus Ashtaka at Kanyakubja, all important sites in early Buddhist and Jain literature. Shibi, in particular, is an epitome of moral kingship in both Brahminical and Buddhist traditions. Sathaye suggests that linking these kingdoms through matrilocal genealogy constructs a new way of looking at consolidating power through regional alliances instead of conquest following the collapse of the Mauryas. To these Sathaye adds Pratishthana, Yayati’s capital, identifying it with the Satavahana capital of Paithan in the post-Mauryan period, known as important commercially in Buddhist texts. He overlooks that Khandavaprastha is given to the Pandavas as having been the capital of their ancestor Yayati. Simultaneously, the Galava-Garuda tale highlights the supremacy of Vishnu which is stressed in the story of Dambodhbhava that follows.

This arrogant king is trounced by Nara with a fistful of grass. This is very interesting because in the Mairavana and the Sahasramukharavana tales from the Jaiminiya Mahabharata, both Hanuman and Sita use similar mantra-infused grass to destroy the demons. Vaishnava theology is thus being brought to the fore. As these stories focus on obstinate pride leading to destruction, the audience is guided to realise the anxieties of post-Mauryan rulers in whose despotic times the MB is tryingto push a new vision of moral rule, dharmartha, for governing effectively, ruthless conquest no longer being a feasible option.

The lengthiest paper, running to 45 pages, is by the editor Adluri: a provocative contribution claiming that Amba-Shikhandi represents Ardhanarishvara. The name, of course, is that of the Goddess-as-Mother, but how does her turning male recall Shiva’s “gender ambiguity”? Nor does ardhanarishvara mean “half woman” but rather “the-half-woman-God.” The MB does not know the Ardhanarishvara concept. Adluri argues that Arjuna, empowered by Shiva, and Shikhandi resemble the Purusha-Prakriti dyad. However, the Purusha is always a witness, never acting, whereas it is Arjuna’s arrows, not Amba-Shikhandi’s, that bring down Bhishma. It could be argued that by using Shikhandi as a stalking horse, Arjuna is, in effect, pretending to be witness, but Adluri does not resort to that. For him, the “ultimate androgyne” Shikhandhi challenges the “ultimate masculine figure” Bhishma (but does not celibacy undercut this maleness?), and the ultimate mortal (Nara-Arjuna) opposes the ultimate immortal (Bhishma). There is no evidence that Amba/Shikhandi remembers “to become the divine androgyne.” Adluri calls the Arjuna-Shikhandi pair “the double androgynes” referring to the former’s year as Brihannada. He could have added the instances of Bhangashvana (man to woman by Indra), Ila (woman to man by Shiva), particularly as the story of the former is related by Bhishma and of Samba (born by Shiva’s boon) whose cross-dressing results in the doom of his clan. Adluri, while making the perceptive point that feminist interventions alter the Kshatriya dynasties, as through Ganga, Satyavati, Draupadi, forgets the most important of these, viz. Kunti. If Satyavati abruptly replaces the dynasty sought to be founded through Ganga and the heavenly Vasus by her own, Kunti substitutes her grandmother-in-law’s designs by reverting to the gods for progeny. Merely by producing offspring how can Ambika and Ambalika be parallels to Vinata and Kadru when they are not rivals in any way? Pandu abdicates in favour of Dhritarashtra. If progenition makes a character a symbol of “the sristi aspect of the pravritti cycle,” then why leave out the amazingly fecund Gandhari? The point is well made that the rejection of Amba creates the void in which the epic action occurs—a space that “rapidly folds in on itself” with her return, for she symbolizes the laya (destruction) motif. Germanic study of the New Testament, which is what informs the Critical Edition of the MB, again rears its head with Adluri’s reference to “the Wirkungsgeschichte of this text”. Adluri reaches out very far indeed in claiming that as a crocodile-infested river Amba symbolizes the MB at whose end Arjuna sees Krishna and Balarama as dead crocodiles. In agreeing with Hiltebeitel that the text never allows anyone to run amuck (even Parashurama), Adluri overlooks Parashurama and Ashvatthama who do exactly that, the latter with the support of Rudra. Instead, he claims that the story of Amba shows Shiva and the Devi acting jointly as the divine androgyne, overcoming gender. He adds a section showing how the number five is significant: the fifth Veda, the five Pandavas, Shuka as the fifth son (the 4 pupils being like sons) who attains moksha, the five elements that combine for creation, the five-tufted Shiva in Uma’s lap as the symbol of birth whom Indra seeks to strike and is paralysed.

Adam Bowles focuses on 3 ancillary tales about fish, doves and the ungrateful man. The first of these does not feature in Hiltebeitel’s list, because, Bowles finds, the list of colophons in the Critical Edition is erroneous (all the more reason for a properly revised edition, a proposal being stoutly resisted by Western Indologists who will only correct typos). These tales are mirrors for rulers on the art of governance, and resemble those in the Buddhist Jatakas, in which the fish tale occurs (as well as in the Panchatantra), and shares concerns found in the Arthashastra rather than the dharmashastras. These impart lessons on proper alliances, distinguishing traitors from friends and right action. The doves’ tale with its motif of sheltering the refugee recurs often, climaxing in Yudhishthira not abandoning the dog accompanying him (but what about abandoning his dying wife and brothers?) Like the female dove, Draupadi exhorts her spouses to practice appropriate dharma. However, to equate the female dove’s burning herself on her mate’s pyre with Draupadi adopting sahagamana is incorrect, because she does not follow her dead spouse. On the contrary, at Yudhishthira’s command all the husbands abandon her when she falls. The tale of the ungrateful Brahmin is not the only instance of a Brahmin acting abnormally, as Bowles thinks. Parashurama, Sharadvat, his son Kripa, Drona, his son Ashvatthama, Raibhya, Paravasu and Aravasu all violate the Brahmin code. Further, though this tale comes after the end of the war, it precedes the internecine massacre of the Yadavas where the harbingers of death are, again, Brahmins. These are the arch-rebel Vishvamitra, father of Shakuntala founder of the Bharata dynasty, Kanva her foster father, and the ubiquitous mischief-maker Narada. Thus, the founders of the Bharatas usher in the decimation of one of its descendant branches.

Nicolas Dejenne deals with Madeleine Biardeau’s crucial contribution in highlighting ignored aspects of the upakhyanas. Thus, she considered that Damayanti, a reflection of Draupadi and suffering earth, takes up the role of the avatara, bringing in a new dimension to the epic. That, in turn, prompts rumination on the connection between Krishna as avatara and Draupadi. Biardeau argued that the MB was an ideological instrument countering the prevalence of Buddhism in society. In the R, she posited, the Buddhists were displaced to Lanka as rakshasas. She focused on the “mirror-stories” noting how the Virataparva reflects part of the epic plot. Without these tales we would miss significant analogies. It is a great pity that her major study of the MB has not been translated into English.

T. Mahadevan’s paper is on Mudgala, the gleaning Brahmin of the MB, the ideal ritualist whose story Vyasa himself narrates in the Vanaparva and again in the Mokshadharmaparva. He features in the Rigveda’s Shakala branch in east Panchala and Kosala. These gleaners are presumed by Hiltebeitel to be in small kingdoms like the Shungas in the 2nd century BCE, interfacing with Vyasa and writing out the first draft of the MB. Mahadevan finds Mudgala to be a real person with a gotra identity, part of a distinct Brahmin group found in the Rigveda and continuing through the epic into the future. Vaishampayana, the reciter, is also the redactor of the Taittiriya Samhita belonging to Panchala where the elaborate Soma rituals developed. Vyasa’s other pupils Jaimini and Paila are founders of Vedic schools of rituals. Mudgala rejects being sent bodily to Swarga, preferring to practise serenity on earth for nirvana. These gleaners were part of Brahmin migrations of whom the Purvashikhas came south around 150 BCE (mentioned in Sangam poetry) followed by the Aparashikhas (6th to 17th centuries CE), both carrying the MB. Epigraphic evidence for them exists. They still exist performing complex soma rituals and narrating the MB in Srirangam, covering a remarkable history of nearly 3000 years and providing evidence of organised Brahmin migrations of at least four gotra affiliates—a unique phenomenon. There is a major error here when the 8th regnal year for Rajendra Chola is given as 1929-31 instead of 1022-23.

Simon Brodbeck is the only scholar in this collection to study the upakhyanas in the Harivansha (HV). Andre Couture is the only other foreign Indologist to research this neglected text. Dr. A. Harindranath and A. Purushothaman have been researching it within India. Brodbeck asks the reader to consider what these ancillary stories might mean to him, for we are as much receivers of the tales as Yudhishthira (to whom 49 of the 67 are addressed) but even more so Janamejaya who, like us, hears them all. Thus, the frame-story is an integral part of the MB. At no stage was it merely a Kuru-Pandava story. Shulman and Hiltebeitel argue that the statement that Vyasa made a Bharata of 24,000 verses without upakhyanas could mean a digest, not an “ur-text” that was later enlarged. There is no reason why an upakhyana-less MB should be a bizarre idea as Brodbeck feels. After all, all the retellings for children in Indian languages are precisely that. Like Couture, Brodbeck argues that the HV is part and parcel of the MB, as it is mentioned in the list of contents of 101 parvas, the last being called “the greatly wondrous Ashcharyaparva”. Hiltebeitel’s list of upakhyanas leaves out those of the HV, chiefly the ancillary story of Krishna and his clan. Brodbeck points out that even the MB itself is called an upakhyana at 1.2.236, which indicates the risk in treating it as a technical genre. Hence, to depend upon the colophons for the classification is erroneous, especially as they were added much later. Brodbeck adds 4 sub-stories from the HV to Hiltebeitel’s 67, two which are alluded to in the Shanti Parva. He shows how these four stories serve “as stepping stones” through the text and are inter-related, suggesting a new approach to the upakhayanas. For instance, the “Dhanya upakhayana,” which is the last one, contains the birth of Samba by Shiva-Uma’s boon, whose dressing as a woman (a parallel to the androgyne Amba-Shikhandi, Arjuna-Brihannada) precipitates the curse leading to the destruction of Krishna’s clan.

The final paper is Hiltebeitel’s study of the geography of the ancillary stories proposing, as suggested by Rajesh Purohit of the Sri Krishna Museum Kurukshetra, that they fit the main story into the spatial and temporal geography of the MB, constructing a Bakhtinan “chronotype”. He suggests that this is the first text to project the Ganga-Yamuna doab “as a total land and a total people,” while the R “envisions India as a total land but not as a total people”. Unfortunately he does not elaborate. These tales also help to build “its cosmograph into its geography” (a concept formulated by R. Kloetzli). Hiltebeitel asserts that Kuru and his parents Tapati and Samvarana are invented by the MB composers because the stories are “especially dreamlike and elliptical”—hardly an objective criterion! He shows how the story of Shakuntala is part of accomplishing the devas’ plan by engendering the Bharata dynasty. So is the story of Yayati who divides the world among his five sons, assigning four to the north-western lands and Puru to rule in the heartland. There is another series of stories centred on Kurukshetra that imply familiarity with it on part of the composer(s) who “may actually be writing a Mahabharata ethnography out of their own experience there.” Here he adopts Mahadevan’s thesis of the Purvashikha Brahmins of this area composing the MB around the second to first century BCE.

What we have here a scintillating necklace of twelve iridescent gems with a Hiltebeitel solitaire at either end. It is a collection that no Mahabharata acolyte can afford to miss.

A shorter version of this was published in the 8th Day supplement (p. 2) of The Sunday Statesman of 15th October 2017.

 

Chakravyuha by Manoranjan Bhattacharya

By

“Chakravyuha” by Manoranjan Bhattacharya, with lyrics and music by Kazi Nazrul Islam, first performed on 23rd November 1934. The play is unique for three reasons:

The novel explanation it offers for the traditionally accepted “motiveless malignity” of Shakuni, the set-piece villain of the Mahabharata, depicting an intriguing understanding between him and Krishna, who appear almost as partners orchestrating the Kurukshetra holocaust.

The entrancing picture of the David-and-Jonathan-like “love passing that of woman” between Lakshman and Abhimanyu, sons of Duryodhan and Arjun respectively, who make a pact to share the kingdom between themselves, irrespective of what their elders do, if they ever become heirs to the throne. Ironically, one kills the other and is himself slain in the deadly discuss formation of the Kaurav army.

An outstanding scene in which, after Abhimanyu’s death, Draupadi confronts Jayadrath and her husbands in flaming agony.

The extracts that follow relate to the encounters between Shakuni, Bhishma and Krishna, and Draupadi, her husbands and Jayadrath.

Act I Scene I
(Bhishma, Abhimanyu, Lakshman and Shakuni)

Shakuni
Vasudev? Such a good boy!
When we meet, only jests
saying, “Uncle, Uncle”
Didn’t come himself? Could not, I suppose?
Pandavs’ incognito time is over,
Many tasks on his shoulders!
He, perhaps, knows where’s Yudhishthir.
If only he’d whisper it to me,
secretly the tricks of dice I could teach him.
He knows nothing at all;
only suffers defeat after defeat!
Trained by me,
Duryodhan he could defeat.
On return, the game shall be held,
again kingdom he’ll lose at dice.
Had he learnt it, this time Duryodhan
would be forest-bound.
Do not mind, Lakshman.
Kings’ exile is but luxury!
Harishchandra, Ramchandra,
Many Chandra-stories I hear in the Purans.
All forest-exiles are a fancy.
What would happen if one didn’t go
That I can’t understand.

Bhishma
The essence of vow-observance
passes your comprehension,
non-Aryan Saubala.

Shakuni
How true, Bhishma-dev
I had forgotten you are here
incarnate vow-observance yourself!
But, is it good to fulfill all vows?
That day, that moment
when father and brothers died
in the dark dungeon
like a fool
Kuru clan annihilation had I vowed.
But what is a non-Aryan’s vow?
That vow has been swept away
in the flood of Karurav love.
Hence, oblivious of all
I live only for dicing!
Dice, dice – dice is my bosom companion.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! (laughs demonically)
What these dice are made of
you’ll all laugh to hear.
My father died first.
In prison cremation wasn’t possible
flesh and skin melted; rotted, fell away
exposed pure white skeleton.
One by one fell ninety-nine brothers
I alone, eat, drink and pass time.
Time refuses to pass.
From father’s rib-cage
carefully breaking-off three firm bones
passed time grinding them on the stony floor.
Those bones turned into dice
Then Kauravs turned compassionate,
released me from prison.
When I die,
these dice will I leave Lakshman
to defeat Abhimanyu and send him to the forest.

Bhishma
Matters long past why recall?
Forget not, Gandhari’s brother are you . . ..

Act II Scene II
(Karna, Krishna, Shakuni)

Karna
Discussions are over.
I leave to salute father.

Shakuni
Most devoted to his father is Anga’s king:
In the tourney when Duryodhan
anointed Karna king of Anga,
leaning on a staff, barefoot,
Adhirath the charioteer
caught betwixt fear and wonder,
trembling in every limb, crying
“Son! Son!” burst into the royal presence,
Karna unperturbed fell prostrate
bowing lustrated head
in the dust at his bare feet.

Krishna
Your devotion to your father too
I know well.
The burden of his bones
you bear on your breast.

Shakuni
Never have I got you, Krishna, by myself.
In the sabha you look at me and smile,
I myself laugh and try to make all laugh.
This restless agony of mine
who comprehends, who doesn’t
I know not, don’t worry about.
That you, Krishna, have understood
makes my bearing this burden
worthwhile.
I realize, at long last it’s time
to offer father’s bones to Ganga.

Krishna
Do so, son of Subala.
Let peace come to this Bharata.

Shakuni
First let peace come to this Bharata.
Subala’s bones will reach Ganga thereafter.
Father’s refusal to marry his daughter
to blind Dhritarashtra
only this the crime,
for that cause, prison;
for that, death in neglect,
with ninety-nine sons, – you know!
Me alone they all kept alive by their share
of the morsels to repay the debt!
Father’s bones keep lidless watch
over my repayment efforts
While that debt remains,
peace will come to this Bharata you imagine?

Krishna
Can past crimes not be forgiven, hero?

Shakuni
I’d thought today I wouldn’t laugh.
Now you make me laugh, Keshav,
you speak of forgiveness?
Your father, too, was in prison;
in prison were you born
how much did you forgive Kamsa?
Kaliya, Putana, Chanura, Mushtika, Kamsa,
Shishupal and others
with stories of your forgiveness
Bharata’s history is replete.

Krishna
Now it seems perhaps I was mistaken.

Shankuni
Then such mistakes commit some more.
Kurukshetra finish off,
then raise the question of forgiveness
Because of your hesitation
quenching of all flames is delayed.
Your vow not to take up arms in Kurukshetra
is senseless egotism!
Sudharshan at rest will only delay justice.
And then this repeated useless
enacting of peaceembassies!
All over today?
The attempt to bind you – Shakuni’s scheme.
Now speed your way to Virata’s city,
seven armies swiftly assemble
on the plains of Kurukshetra.

Krishna
How much pain in how many quarters,
Mahamaya!
Great Creatrix of illusion!
Knot upon knot!
Will you not in compassion un-knot, Mother?

Shakuni
Knot upon knot,
revolutions of eras, of birth
inextricably intertwined!
Amba’s ascesis as Shikhandi targets Bhishma;
Drupad’s flaming agony birthed Dhrishtadyumna
to slay Dronacharya;
Draupadi’s flowing tresses – Bhim’s vow
against Duryodhan, Duhshasan;
Gandhar’s bones demand oblations
of Kaurav blood;
Amid eighteen armies, if you can seek out,
a wondrous skein
of flaming agonies interwoven
you’ll perceive!
How many knots will you unravel?
Sever asunder with an adamantine stroke,
Mahakal!
More the delay, more steely the stroke
will have to be tempered, Discuswielder!

Krishna
So much you see, Shakuni!
Heart’s profound agony has honed wisdom!
I understand why Dharmaraj’s dharma
mankind can’t accept even today!
In ever-new forms, new and newer coils
will ensnare man’s heart.
New blows will be needed
to sever them time and again.
Then, one day, man’s love
will shine forth piercing the mists of hatred.

Shakuni
That day is still afar, Krishna.
Today’s task do today.
Yet, that day’s hope time proffers today;
even in this age see Dharmaraj,
even within Shakuni the touch of softness
awakens when I see Lakshman,
like Prahlad among demons, in the Kaurav clan.
That this weakness cause me no anguish,
this little grant,
you, whom all call Narayan.
[ Laughing] Being Narayan is very problematic,
the thief wishes not to be caught. (laughs)
But where’s Lakshman?
Again will you take him to Virata’s?
I find the art of enchantment you’ve
gifted all to your nephew!
Lakshman he’s turned almost into a Pandav!
Binding leaf to leaf
you won’t succeed in uniting trees
meaningless, to create a fresh anguish for me.
Astonishing! so much weakness in me
for a Kaurav child?
I have sped here for his sake!
It seems I’ve grown old.
Delay no more, Keshav!
It seems I’ve grown old.
Delay no more, Keshav!
Before death my life’s debt
must be repaid………….

Act III Scene 1
(Bhishma and Shakuni)

Bhishma
Who? Saubala? Where is Duryodhan?

Shakuni
You know the Kuru King’s ego is hurt
Bhishma’s vow stands broken in today’s battle,
that’s not Bhishma’s shame alone,
but counted as the Kuru king’s insult.

Bhishma
My vow alone is not fruitless today,
Keshav’s resolve is fruitless
him have I forced to take up arms in
Kurukshetra today.

Shakuni
And what did that profit?
The Pandavs weren’t slain.
Only a fresh fear arose of Krishna’s arms
in the Kaurav army
But where are your five arrows
with which you vowed to slay the Pandavs?

Bhishma
At night’s end stolen by Keshav-Arjun,
my resolve frustrated.
That’s why Keshav’s vow
had to be broken.

Shakuni
Stole away arrows!!!?

Bhishma
In Duryodhan’s guise stole the arrows.

Shakuni
And you couldn’t recognize?
Grown so senile?
Or, senile you’ve been since long
only, you’ll not admit it to yourself.

Bhishma
Know you with whom you talk, Shakuni?

Shakuni
With Bhishma’s spectre!
You threaten Gandhar with fear of death?
Ever seen any Gandhar afraid of death?
If you wish, kill me,
Unarmed, alone, I stand before you.

Bhishma
What is it you wish to say?

Shakuni
Let the death wish awaken in you.
That you’ve died long ago, realize.
False flatterers lift you skyhigh
with cries of “Bhishma! Bhishma!”
Know yourself.
No longer truthvowed son of Shantanu,
nor Parashuram’s victor.
The unjust attack on Gandhar,
the torture in dungeons,
the day these occurred because of you,
that day you died.
Or Bhishma never would’ve tolerated
torture of woman in the Kaurav clan!
Or you, Bhishma, yourself could have stopped
the infantile rivalry of Kaurav-Pandav,
Or, in mockbattle over nine days in Kurukshetra,
destroying a few petty lives of mere soldiers
uselessly, never would Bhishma have done.

Bhishma
Such bitter words never have I heard
from any mouth!

Shakuni
Angry? Kill me.
You’re the general and armed.
Bitter surely my words
but true; think them over
if any sinews of thought remain.
The Pandavs you’ll be unable to destroy
or to defeat
then, to fight on Duryodhan’s side
is meaningless, senseless.
Stand aside, let Radheya come,
swiftly let the curtain drop on this play. . . .

Act V Scene 1
(Draupadi, Bhim, Yudhishthir, Jayadrath)

Bhim
Death, give me death, you Sindhu hound!
(off stage) Oh you, lustcrazed, greedy for others’ wives!

Jayadrath
Lustcrazed, doubtless,
(off stage) Draupadi I still crave for.

(Both enter)

Bhim
Life you’d gifted your relative,
death ask him to give me, O Dharmaraj,
from suicide’s sin save me.

Jayadrath
Yudhishthir I see here?
Salutations!
By your generosity,
glory in today’s battle is mine.

Yudhisthir
I had gifted you life, Sindhu king,
in return I beg
open the vyuhadoor. We’ll enter
to protect the child in battle
only against injustice,
not harm any of the Kaurav side.
In the slaying of a helpless child
do not assist, O hero.

Jayadrath
Hero I’m none.
Petty king of Sindhu, lustcrazed thief.
BhimArjun’s insults still etched on my body.
Only today have I found the chance
vengeance for the insult
I’ll extract to the hilt.
Tomorrow?
Tomorrow might be my death!

Draupadi
Death surely is yours tomorrow at Arjun’s hands, villain.

Jayadrath
But today?
The vyuhaentrance I can leave open, Bhim,
if today you give me your Draupadi.

Bhim
Oh, you wicked second Kichak!

Draupadi
Drop futile arrogance today, Vrikodar!
(stopping Bhim) Charioteer’s son bound you,
kissed your cheek,
Jayadrath defeated you,
yet empty vaunting won’t end even today?

Bhim
Krishnaa!

Draupadi
But Krishnaa is wanton!
Menstruating, singlecloth clad,
being stripped in court
you watched unmoved.
Today of my own will
I’ll choose the Sindhu king,
more precious than life,
more dear then honor,
dearer than all
son’s life to save,
that you’ll be able to bear.
Come, let’s go, Jayadrath, where you’ll take me.
Open up the vyuhagate.
Go Dharmaraj, go Bhimsen if you can, save
Subhadra’s and Uttara’s life’s treasure.
For me the wareffort,
in my dishonor let it end!
Let peace be established!

Yudhishthir
Mad woman!

Draupadi
Mad, insane,
repeatedly do not call me!
Come, Sindhuraja!

Bhim
Dead or alive am I, asleep or awake?
Dharmaraj, command I slay this wicked female!

Draupadi
Prowess only in killing women!
Even than awaits brother’s command!
So incapable, Bhimsen,
had I known would I have unbound my tresses?
Come, Sindhu hero,
with your own hands you’ll plait my hair

Bhim
Yes, oh yes! Go lovelyhaired one,
go, wed Jayadrath!
Heroic Jayadrath will open up the vyuhapath,
Abhimanyu I’ll bring back!
Then, thereafter! Thereafter?
No, no, what is this terrible dilemma?
Sindhubeast will bind up Draupadi’s flowing hair?
That flowing hair, that pennant
in joy and sorrow, victory and defeat
that led the Pandav expeditions!
That flowing hair whose history’s writ
in letters of blood in Bhim’s heart,
that flowing hair!
But within the vyuha imprisoned
lies five Pandavs’ life!
His life bought with mother’s dishonor
will heroic Abhimanyu ever forgive?
You, Yudhishthir, are still
unkind to Bhim ever!
Won’t you guide this imbecile to his duty
this moment?

Draupadi
Determine your own duty,
I have determined mine.
Come, Sindhuraja.

Jayadrath
Thus you inveigled Kichak into the dancing hall!
ensured his destruction.
Deception won’t fool me.
Your willing consent’s the most terrible!
Terrifying its flames,
even the Pandavs , I see, can’t bear!
Remain in the Pandavs’ home,
Burn them!
I’ve to attend to my duty. (Exit)

Draupadi
Then what will I do?
Kill me, Bhimsen. . . .
Act V Scene 2
(Karna, Krishna and Shakuni after Abhimanyu’s death)

Karna
I, King of Anga, Kauravally
slew in unfair battle son of the Pandavs!
What other son’s sacrifice do you desire,
Narayan?
Feel, now, the pain!

Krishna
Pain today the Pandavs comprehend,
pain today the Kauravs understand,
pain today Virat apprehends,
pain today the Yadavs realize.

Shakuni
How much pain, exposed and secret
in every limb of Bharata,
concentrated in Kurukshetra
as explosive eruption
if you have understood, masterphysician,
delay no longer the ultimate surgery!…
Arise in fury, O Pandavs,
launch a night assault on the Kaurav camp.
Slay Drona, Karna, Duryodhan, Duhshasan,
myself, all!
All slew your son in unjust battle,
slay all today!

Krishna
Mahakal, Lord of War, Annihilating Time,
at your feet we sacrificed our dearest treasure!
Pray to him,
may we not stray from Dharma in war,
we followers of Dharmaraj.

Karna
Whether Dharma or adharma is mine
Narayan, you know all.

Shakuni
Dharma! Dharma!
Dharma will stay no more, Krishna!
Chakravyuha churning has engendered
adharmavenom in Kurukshetra!
Today the Kauravs have drunk it,
tomorrow the Pandavs.
Slaying Drona, Karna in fair battle
is that possible, you think?
Drinking Duhshasan’s heart’s blood,
breaking Duryodhan’s thigh,
gross violations of Dharma
are Bhim’s vows, you know,
yet “dharma, dharma” you chant in deceit?
Hence this terrible blow
had to be hit at you,
had to be hit at Parth!
Don’t turn today’s blows fruitless, Krishna;
swiftly quench the burning!
Fruitful or fruitless, whatever it be,
today’s effort is my last,
no more strength is left.
In the dicegame sabha
casting my father’s ribs
I raised a storm;
today, shattering my own ribs,
have I cast them in Kurukshetra!
Pushed Lakshman into death’s maw!
Gave Kauravs the scheme to slay Abhimanyu!
Unmasked the real face of war!
Now at its own pace will war move
towards its own goal.
Only, you
must fulfil Abhimanyu’s last wish
light twin pyres in Kurukshetra.

Krishna
I will light twin pyres in Kurukshetra today
in that fire let everyone’s pain burn away.

Shakuni
Pain not only of now,
The accumulated pain of the age,
The era’s collected sickness
burn them in that fire, Keshav,
Then, if you can, usher in a new yuga
to lift men’s hearts above war,
above violence!
But,
so long as war exists
the pain of war do not assuage.
The more excruciating the pain of battle
the sooner will mankind forget war,
However,
that task is yours,
that worry is yours.
My work today is ended.
You had wanted it one day,
Today the time has come
to offer father’s bones
at the Ganga of your feet, Narayan!

(Places dice at Krishna’s feet)

Original Bengali Play by Manoranjan Bhattachrya
Transcreated by Pradip Bhattacharya, IAS