Pradip Bhattacharya

Indologist, Mahabharata scholar

MAHABHARATA

               

               

          

 

 

 

THE THIRD DICE GAME

By

Translated by Pradip Bhattacharya from Rajshekhar ‘Parashuram’ Basu’s Bengali original “Tritiyo Dyutsabha”

THE THIRD DICE GAME

Translated by Pradip Bhattacharya

According to Mahabharat, after Yudhishthir had lost everything in the first dice game, the repentant Dhritarashtra gave him back all that he had staked. When the Pandavas were returning to Indraprasth, Dhritarashtra—at Duryodhan’s insistence—summoned them once again for another game of dice. Yudhishthir lost this second dice game too and, as its consequence, the Pandavs went into exile.

What type of game did Shakuni and Yudhishthir play? They had no counter and no game-board. Either side would announce a stake and throw the dice. He whose throw was greater won. The dice-game chapter of the Sabha Parva (Book of the Assembly Hall) states that on each occasion after hearing Yudhishthir announce the stake, Shakuni cheated while throwing the dice exclaiming, “I’ve won” every time. This makes it clear that with each throw of dice a turn of the game was complete.

Many do not know that, a few days before the Kurukshetra war, Yudhisthir had played yet once more at dice with Shakuni. It is difficult to say why Vyas left this third dice-game chapter out of Mahabharat.

One morning, twenty-five days before the Kurukshetra war, Yudhisthir was seated in his camp listening to Sahadev reading out the list of provisions that had been collected. Arjun had gone to the Panchal camp to attend a council. Nakul was busy with army exercises. The hundred clubs Bhim had ordered had arrived and now he was twirling them one by one, dedicating each to one of the sons of Dhritarashtra. All the clubs were made of sala wood; only one was a topped with cotton wool wrapped up in cloth. This was meant for Duryodhana’s eighteenth brother, Vikarna. That chap’s conduct was okay and during Draupadi’s violation he had protested strongly.

Sahadev was reading out, “Twelve maunds of maize, eight lakh maunds of ground chick-pea, fifty lakh maunds of chick-pea whole”—

Yudhishthir was getting irritated listening to the list. But it would look bad if no interest was displayed; so he asked, “Will that be enough?”

Sahadev said, “Oh yes. Only seven akshauhinis after all and for the battle to end it will take, at the most, twenty days. Plenty will die daily. Listen, after that—ghee one lakh jars”—

“You’ll have me on the streets I find! Where will I get all that money?”

“What need of money? I’ve got everything on credit. After victory, repay with sweet words. Oil two lakh jars, salt half a lakh maunds”—

“Enough, enough. Whatever has to be arranged, get it done. Why bother me? I understand a ruler’s duties, moral codes. Totting up tallies is a Vaishya’s job. It makes no sense to me.”

At this time the door-keeper arrived and announced, “Dharma-raj, King of Virtue, a well-dressed hunchback seeks audience. He will not give his name and says that his message is top secret, to be delivered only in person.”

Sahadev said, “Maharaj is now busy with matters of state. Ask him to come in the afternoon.”

Yudhishthir was desperate to get out of Sahadev’s clutches. He said, “No, no, bring him in right now, here itself.”

The visitor was old, with a crooked back, a wrinkled, clean-shaven face, a huge turban on his head, a blue necklace round his neck and wore a long shirt over loose pyjamas. Touching folded hands to his forehead he said, “Victory to Lord of Rectitude, Dharma-raj Yudhishthir!”

Yudhishthir asked him, “Who are you, venerable sir?”

The visitor replied, “Great King, Maharaj, forgive my impertinence, but my words are only for the royal ears.”

Yudhishthir said, “Sahadev, you may leave now.” Annoyed, Sahadev left plagued by a nagging suspicion.

The visitor spoke softly, “Maharaj, I am Subal’s son Matkuni, Shakuni’s step-brother.”

“What! You are our venerable maternal uncle! Pranam, pranam—how fortunate we are! Pray be seated on this lion-throne.”

“No Maharaj, this low seat suits me. I am a maidservant’s son, unfit for such reception”

“Alright, alright! Then sit on that jackal-skin covered seat. Now pray state what need brings you here. Uncle, I have not ever seen you earlier.”

“How would you, Maharaj! I live in hiding. Moreover, the last thirteen years I have been abroad. My hunch does not permit me to follow Kshatriya mores. Therefore, I have acquired proficiency in magical arts. The divine architect Vishvakarma has blessed me with a boon. Eldest of Pandavs, I hear you are extraordinarily adept at gambling and you have your finger on the very pulse of dice”.

“Hmmm… So people do say.”

“Yet you have been worsted by Shakuni. Do you know why?’

Frowning, Yudhishthir said, “Shakuni defeated me by cheating at dice unrighteously.”

With a lop-sided grin Matkuni responded, “In dicing there’s nothing like cheating and playing fair. The dice-game in which both parties depend wholly on luck is termed ‘fair’. If one player depends on luck and the other wins by his own efforts, then the defeated party usually complains of cheating. Dharma-king, your luck lost out to the throw of dice cast by Shakuni’s prowess. If you take recourse to a mightier force, against Ravana’s missile use Rama’s, the goddess of dice will garland you alone.”

“Uncle, I fail to catch your drift. People say that within Shakuni’s dice a golden plate is fixed on one side. By its weight only that side falls face-down revealing the greater number face-up.”

“Great king, people know nothing at all. Many do play with gold or mercury impregnated dice, true; but their fall is not definite. Among many throws some are bound to go wrong. You have played at many stakes, but have you won even once?”

Yudhishthir sighed deeply and said, “Not even once.”

“Then? Shakuni’s not a greenhorn gambler. He never played against you without infallible dice.”

“But what’s the point of all this talk now. War is impending; there’s no chance of another dice-game, and I do not have the means of defeating Shakuni either.”

“Son of Dharma, do not despair! Listen now to my secret: Shakuni’s dice were made by me. Within it have I established a magical mantric mechanism because of which its throw is infallible. Wicked Shakuni, having learnt the art from me, discarded me as an elephant excretes a wood-apple. He had assured me that after exiling the Pandavas, Duryodhan would install me on the throne of Indraprasth. After you left for the forest, when I reminded Duryodhan of the promise he said, ‘I know nothing of this. Speak to Uncle.’ Shakuni said, ‘What do I know? Go to Duryodhan.’ Ultimately, these two despicable creatures, using tricks and force, consigned me to the dungeons of far-off Bahlik country. After thirteen years, somehow I managed to escape and have sought sanctuary with you.”

Yudhishthir said, “Oh, and now it’s me you wish to throw like dice and win a kingdom!”

“Dharma-raj, forgive my previous fault. What has happened has happened. Know me now as your supreme well-wisher. Dwarf-like I stretched out my hands for the Indraprasth-moon. That is why I have suffered such calamity. After you are victorious, if you give me the Gandhar kingdom by driving away Shakuni, I will be satisfied with that only.”

“As reward for the disaster piled on my head by the dice you made?”

Biting his tongue Matkuni said, “Please don’t raise that topic again, Great King. Hear me out. I have received secret information that Sanjay has been despatched by Dhritarashtra and is coming here. Egged on by Duryodhan and Shakuni, that blind king is summoning you once again to a dice-game. Great king, do not let this great opportunity slip by.”

Just then the rumbling of chariot wheels was heard. Matkuni said anxiously, “There, Sanjay has arrived. I beg you, Maharaj, please do not reject Dhritarashtra’s proposal out of hand. Say that you will reply later after considering the matter. When Sanjay has left, I will tell you everything. For the present, I am hiding in the next room.”

After the usual formalities of enquiring after their welfare, Sanjay broached the reason for his arrival: “O best of Pandavs, Kuru King Dhritarashtra had wanted to send Vidura to you, but on Vidura refusing to undertake this unpleasant task on any account, it is I who have had to come at the royal command. I am but the messenger; do not blame me. Dhritarashtra has spoken thus:

‘Yudhishthir my son, the five of you are as dear to me as my hundred sons. It is my bounden duty to prevent this destructive fratricidal war at any cost. I am powerless, old and blind. My sons are disobedient and eager for battle. After racking my brains, I have decided that instead of violent armed confrontation it is the non-violent dice-game that can resolve the enmity of both parties. With great difficulty I have been able to get my sons and their friends to consent to this arrangement. Hence, come with all your dear ones to the Kaurav camp and once again engage in a throw of dice with the same stake as last time: the Kuru-Pandav kingdom. If Duryodhan’s representative Shakuni loses, the Kauravs will depart from the kingdom with their retinue for the forests forever. If you lose, then you too will have to give up hope of the kingdom and retire to the forest permanently. My son, do not fear deception. I will keep ready two sets of dice. You can, with your own hands, select one. Shakuni will play with the other dice.’

‘What can be more unexceptionable than this arrangement? I anxiously wait to hear from Sanjay of your concurrence. My dear Yudhishthir, may your discrimination work for the welfare of your five brothers and save the lives of eighteen akshauhinis along with the Kuru-Pandavs.’”

Yudhishthir asked, “Are these words my elder uncle’s own? I get the feeling that they are his counsellors’, Duryodhan and Shakuni, and the old Kuru king has merely recited them by rote like a shuka bird. Profoundly wise Sanjay, what do you advise me to do?”

“Son of Dharma, I am merely the bearer of the Kuru King’s message as commanded. I have no right to intimate my own views. Depend on statesmanship and righteousness and your welfare will be assured.

“Then inform the Kuru monarch that he has placed me an extremely difficult situation. I will reply to him after carefully considering the matter. Now please rest and have food. Return tomorrow.”

“No, Maharaj, I have to return immediately. Rest is out of the question. Victory to the son of Dharma!” With this, Sanjay took leave.

Emerging from the side-door Matkuni said, “Maharaj, you have answered correctly. Now, listen carefully to my advice. This very afternoon dispatch a trusted emissary to Dhritarashtra without letting your brothers know. Your messenger will say, ‘O venerable eldest uncle, your word is my command. Even though it is most detestable, I accept this third dice-game. I do not require your dice and will depend on my own. Shakuni too will play with his own. I also accept the stake you have proposed. Only one condition I beg you to accept: Shakuni and I will both play with only one dice each and the dice will be thrown only thrice. Whoever’s cumulative throw is greater will be the winner.”

Yudhishthir said, “O Subal’s son Matkuni, you are my maternal uncle by relation; but now it seems you are senile. How dare I challenge Shakuni once again? If you provide me with dice like Shakuni’s, then the encounter will be between equals. But even then, where is the assurance of my victory? What is the reason for objecting to the dice arranged by Dhritarashtra? What is the intention behind restricting the game to three throws when the more the number of throws the greater the chance of scoring more points? And what is the proof that you are not Duryodhan’s spy?”

Matkuni replied, “Maharaj, peace—be still! All your doubts shall I slice through. If you play with the dice chosen by Dhritarashtra, your defeat is inevitable. Cunning Shakuni will never play with that dice. Like a magician, by sleight of hand he will change it in a flash for his own and play only with that. I did not lie idle in the Bahlik dungeons for so long. After tireless research have I created a dice infused with even greater mantric power. This amazing creation infused with new mechanism will I place in your hands. Shakuni’s dice will become ineffectual the moment it nears this. Maharaj, there is not the slightest doubt of your victory. Your brothers are greedy for war. They are not steady-willed and far-seeing like you. They will obstruct you. Consequently, you will lose this great opportunity for a bloodless victory. First send the message to Dhritarashtra, then inform your brothers. Should they criticise you, remain unmoved Himalaya-like.

“But Draupadi? Haven’t you heard her bitter recriminations?”

“Maharaj, women’s anger is like flaming straw. It does not split apart a mountain. It is just a matter of a few days after all. Once you win, the lips of all slanderers will be sealed. Further, listen—my instrument is most delicate. Therefore, throwing it too often in a single day is not permissible. Shakuni’s dice, too, does not remain potent for long. That is why he will gladly agree to your proposition. For your victory, three throws are enough. The dice is with me. Test it and see.”

Matkuni took out an ivory dice from the bag at his waist. Yudhishthir noticed that the dice was like Shakuni’s, equally well made and smooth, with slightly convex faces, a fine hole at the centre of each dot.

Matkuni said, “Maharaj, throw it thrice”.

Yudhishthir did so. All three times the throw showed six. Surprised, he sought to inspect the dice, but Matkuni snatched it away and replacing it in his bag said, “This mantra-infused dice is not to be handled unnecessarily as that affects its special powers.”

Yudhishthir said, “Your dice is dependable no doubt. But who will stand guarantee that you will not betray us?”

“My head is forfeit. Take me into custody from now on with two guards in constant attendance with drawn swords. Order them that if news of your defeat arrives, they should behead me. Maharaj, now do you believe me?”

“I do. But if Shakuni’s mantric dice is worsted by my even more magical dice, then it will be a dharma-violating, cheating dice-game.”

“Alas, Maharaj, alas, even now your fear of cheating hasn’t vanished! When both of you are going to play with mechanism-infused mantric dice, then where is the cheating? In a wrestling match if your strength is greater than the opponent’s, then is that cheating? If your strategy is cleverer, is that cheating? The cunning mechanism inherent in Shakuni’s dice is, after all, mine and the more cunning trick in your dice is mine too. Dharma-raj, in this third dice-game actually it is I who am either side. Shakuni and you are merely instruments.”

Yudhishthir said, “Matkuni, your lecture makes my head spin. The path of Dharma is too subtle and I am in great difficulty. On the one hand is life-annihilating ruthless war; on the other cheating at dice. Both I detest; but just as rejecting a challenge to battle is against royal dharma, so too ignoring my elder uncle’s offer is against my nature. Therefore, I am obliged to act upon your advice. Right now I’ll despatch a messenger to the Kuru King. From now on you will remain in a secret place guarded by armed sentries. Neither Kuru nor Pandav will know of you. If I win, you get Gandhar; if I lose, you die. Now, give me your dice.”

“Maharaj, if the dice remains with you, it will lose its special powers in the absence of proper care. Let it remain with me. I will constantly reinforce its mantric force and will hand it over to you before you depart. If you wish, you can visit me daily to practise with it.”

Yudhishthir said, “Matkuni, your useless life is now at my mercy. But my brains, my kingdom, my dharma—all are in your hands. There is no way out for me but to be guided by you.”

The next day Yudhishthir informed his brothers of the coming dice-game. This news of Dharma-raj’s idiocy stunned everyone for a moment. After that what was said to him needs no elaboration. Unperturbed, Yudhishthir sat through all the criticism silently and finally said, “Brothers, I am your eldest. All of you call me King. A king can decide on his duty even without taking the advice of others. Rather than killing innumerable men in war, I prefer to decide our fate in the dice-game assembly hall. Why I don’t have the slightest doubt about victory I cannot reveal now. If you are unable to depend on me, then speak clearly. I will inform the Kuru King, ‘O elder uncle, I have been discarded by my brothers who no longer consider me lord of the Pandavs. I no longer have the authority to stake the kingdom in the dice game assembly hall. As penance for breaking my word, I am giving up my life by entering fire. Please carry out your duties.”

Then Arjun, touching his elder’s feet, said, “Lord of Pandavs, be gracious and forgive our harsh words. Know that in all matters I am your obedient follower.”

After that Bhim, Nakul and Sahadev too begged Yudhishthir’s pardon. Blessing all of them, Yudhishthir went to his apartments.

So far Draupadi had not uttered a word. There is no point in rebuking one who is so shameless that even after losing twice and suffering extreme hardship he wishes to gamble once again. After Yudhishthir had left, Draupadi threw a piercing glance at Sahadev and said, “Youngest Arya, what are staring at with mouth agape? Get up and speed at once on a swift four-horse-drawn-chariot to Dvaraka. Inform Vaasudev of everything and bring him back right now. It is he who is the only recourse. You five brothers are five useless senseless blocks.”

Within ten days Sahadev returned with Krishna to the Pandav camp. Alighting from the chariot Krishna said, “Elder brother has also come.” Happily Yudhishthir exclaimed, “What joy, what happiness! Draupadi is so fortunate indeed that at her call neither Krishna nor Balaram can be at rest!”

A little later Balaram arrived on Daruk’s chariot and greeting them from the chariot itself he said, “Dharma-raj, I heard you have made preparations for excellent entertainment. I do not wish to witness war between Kuru and Pandav, but am extremely eager to see your game. I shall not alight here. If both brothers stay with Pandavs, we will earn infamy for being partisan. Besides, here there are no good arrangements for drinks. Let Krishna stay here. I will accept the hospitality of Duryodhan. We shall meet again in the dice assembly-hall. Drive on, Daruk!” Saying this, Balaram left for the Kaurav camp.

With all royal panoply, the assembly hall was arranged for the dice game. Dhritarashtra could not be at peace. He had come for a couple of days from Hastinapur to the Kaurav encampment and would return after ascertaining the results of the game. His faith in Shakuni’s skill is boundless. He has not the slightest doubt regarding the victory of the Kaurav side.

In the assembly hall, after Krishna, Balaram, the five Pandavs, Duryodhan, his brothers and Dhritarashtra, Shakuni, Drona, Karna and others had all arrived, Bheeshma spoke: “I publicly condemn this gambling meet. But I am the Kuru monarch’s servant. Hence, despite the utmost reluctance, I have to witness these shameful proceedings.” Dronacharya said, “I am of the same opinion.”

Bheeshma continued, “Maharaj Dhritarashtra, it is necessary to ensure that no illegal or unfair act in violation of the rules of dicing is committed in this assembly. I propose that Shri Krishna be appointed chairman to regulate the proceedings.”

Duryodhan objected, “Shri Krishna favours the Pandavs.”

Krishna said, “What Duryodhan says is not untrue. Moreover, with my elder brother present, I cannot chair the meet.”

Then, with the consent of everyone, Dhritarashtra appointed Balaram to the task.

Balaram said, “Why delay? Let the game begin. O assembled nobility, in this gambling match Shakuni on the Kaurav side and Yudhishthir on the Pandav side will play for their respective camps using only a single dice each. Each will cast the dice only thrice. The person whose points are the greater will win. The stake of this gamble is the entire Kuru-Pandav kingdom. The loser will hand over the kingdom to the winner and, laying aside all warlike intentions, he will retire to the forest with his party forever. Subal’s son Shakuni, you are the elder; cast the dice first.”

With a laugh Shakuni made his throw and exclaimed, “I win!” Immediately after falling, his dice was seen to roll a little and then remain still, showing six dots on top. Karna, Duryodhan and others shouted with delight, “Victory is ours!”

Balaram said, “Yudhishthir, now it’s your turn to play.”

Yudhishthir’s dice turned over once and remained steady. It, too, displayed six dots. Pandavs exclaimed, “Dharmaraj’s victory!”

Balaram said, “You’re all making a lot of noise unnecessarily. No one has won. Both parties are equal so far.”

Grimly Shakuni said, “Two throws are still left. I’ll win both.”

The second time Shakuni’s dice did not roll at all. It remained stationery after falling, showing five dots. Yudhisthir’s dice showed six as previously. Shakuni noticed his dice was quivering.

The Pandav camp roared in exultation. Rebuking them, Balaram said, “Beware! Another shout and I’ll evict you from the assembly.”

Silence descended. With bated breath, every eye strained to see the final throw.

Shakuni, gone pale, threw the dice for the third time. The dice fell with a thud like a lump of clay—a single dot!

Yudhishthir threw six again. Balaram in a voice grim as thunder announced, “The victory is Yudhisthir’s.”

At that moment, everyone noticed with amazement that the dice cast by Yudhishthir was making tiny hops, inching towards Shakuni’s dice.

The assembly burst into uproar– “Maya! Magic! Illusion! Hypnotism!”

Flinging his arms and legs about, Duryodhan shouted, “Yudhisthir has cheated! We do not accept his victory. Does any decent man’s dice ever move about?”

Balaram declared, “I will inspect both the dice.”

Yudhisthir immediately picked up his dice and handed it over to Balaram. Shakuni closed his fist around his and said defiantly, “I will not allow anyone to touch my dice.”

Balaram frowned and said, “I am chairman of this assembly and my order has to be obeyed.”

Shakuni sneered in reply, “I am not bound to obey you.”

Balaram was slightly inebriated. Waxing furious, he administered a slap on Shakuni’s cheek and snatching away his dice said, “O assembled people, I shall break open these dice and find out what is inside them.” Saying this, he split open both dice by throwing them on a stone platform.

From Shakuni’s dice a tiny beetle emerged, moving its pincers feebly as if on the verge of death. From Yudhisthir’s dice a tiny lizard came out and immediately attacked the beetle.

The assembly was agitated like a storm-tossed ocean. Anxious, Dhritarashtra demanded to know, “What’s happening?” Balaram answered, “Nothing much. There was a beetle in Shakuni’s dice”—

Apprehensively Dhritarashtra asked, “And it’s bitten someone? How awful!”

“Not bitten anyone, Maharaj. It was inside Shakuni’s dice. This insect is extremely intractable and cannot be overturned or turned on its side. If kept inside a dice, it turns it over to remain upright. From Yudhisthir’s dice a lizard emerged. This creature is even more obdurate. Brahma himself cannot upturn him. Sensing the lizard, the beetle was paralysed with fear. That is why Shakuni failed to get his desired throw.”

Dhritarashtra asked, “Then who won?”

Balaram said, “Yudhisthir. Both parties used false dice; therefore the objection of cheating cannot hold. I have heard Shakuni is very cunning, but now I see that Yudhishthir is even more cunning.”

Yudhisthir then took Balaram aside and narrated the Matkuni matter. Balaram told him. “There is no reason at all for you to feel embarrassed. The use of false dice is permitted by the rules of gambling.”

With supreme indifference Yudhisthir primly stated, “Plough-wielder, you are a mighty hero but know nothing of the scriptures. Listen to what Lord Manu has laid down. He has prescribed that dyuta is that which is played using insentient objects; while that which is played with living creatures is called samahavya. Kuru-raj had summoned me for dyuta of unliving things but, unfortunately, living creatures have emerged from our dice. Hence this contest is vitiated.”

Karna clapped enthusiastically and said, “Dharmaraj, your name is truly well-deserved.”

Balaram stated, “Dharmaraj’s knowledge of scriptures is vast, although he is somewhat deficient in practical sense. I accept that this contest stands vitiated. In that case, the earlier match is also void, for Shakuni had used the beetle-containing dice in it too. Kururaj Dhritarashtra, because of your brother-in-law’s unrighteous conduct in violation of the scriptures, the Pandavs have unnecessarily had to suffer exile for thirteen years. Now return them their paternal kingdom, otherwise hell definitely awaits you in the next life.”

Excitedly Yudhisthir exclaimed, “I don’t wish to hear anything. I am disgusted with everything to do with dicing. We will win back our kingdom only by war. Elder uncle, pranam, I am leaving.”

The Pandavs then left for their camp with exultant shouts. Krishna and Balaram accompanied them.

Immediately on returning Yudhisthir said, “My first duty is to free Matkuni. This unfortunate fool’s entire effort has gone waste. Come, let’s comfort him.”

A little before this news had reached the Pandav camp that something had gone terribly wrong in the dice-game assembly hall. When Yudhishthir and the rest reached the prison, the two sentries were arguing whether Matkuni’s head should be lopped off or whether, for the present, chopping off his nose would do.

Having heard everything from Yudhisthir, Matkuni beat his head and wailed, “Yes, I find everywhere it is fate that prevails! I overfed the lizard to make it strong. That is why that ungrateful creature jumped about and ruined me. Baladev somehow saved the situation; but Dharmaraj had to mess it all up by quoting scripture. What is the use of freeing me when Duryodhan is bound to kill me?”

Balaram said, “Matkuni, you needn’t worry. Come with me to Dvaraka. There, in an ashram of non-violent ascetics, innumerable utkun-mutkun-mashak-mushik[1] etc. are taken care of daily. I will make you its head and you’ll be able to spend your time happily engaged in ever new research.”                                                                                  

[1] Insects, mosquitos, mice

Innovations in the Oriya Mahabharata

By

B.N. Patnaik: Introducing Saaralaa Mahaabhaarata, CIIL, Mysore, pp.227, Rs.370/-
B.N. Patnaik: Retelling as Interpretation, Jadavpur University, Kolkata, pp.123, 2013, Rs. 100/-

A.K. Ramanujam’s famous statement about “300 Ramayanas” applies to the Mahabharata (MB) as well. Following the Muslim invasion, in every region in the country both maha-kavyas came to be retold in the local language. In some cases, as in Bengal, the new Muslim ruler patronised their production. Language has remained a barrier in the dissemination of the local variations and innovations introduced into the epic narrative. Thanks to Dr B.N. Patnaik, we can now access the innovations of Orissa’s first poet, Sarala Das (pronounced “Saaralaa”) of the 15th century. Patnaik introduces the signal features of Sarala in five chapters, analysing his characterisation, themes and the turns and twists in the plot. The second book contains proceedings of a colloquium held by the Department of Comparative Literature of Jadavpur University consisting of Patnaik’s overview of Sarala, comments on it by three scholars and his response.

Sarala Das states that he was Vyasa in an earlier birth and the goddess Saaralaa inspired him to tell the MB tale that, anachronistically, the sage Agasti (Agastya) had narrated to Vaivasvat Manu. Sarala asserted that this was the Vishnu Purana, listening to which ensures moksha. This choice of Agastya as the creator of the tale indicates a connection with southern India. Several of Sarala’s tales occur in Telegu and other southern language MBs. A shared tradition appears to have existed running along the eastern coast from Tamil Nadu through Andhra, Orissa and Bengal up to Assam. Sarala claims that he was Nandikeswara, the watchman at Shiva’s residence at Kapilash (in Orissa), cursed by Ganesha to take human birth and celebrate Vishnu. He was Kalidasa earlier, then Mahakali and this was his third birth after which he would return to Kapilash. Aimed at the illiterate Oriya audience, Sarala’s version is devoid of philosophical discourses. His way to salvation is through the grace of Narayana.

Sarala’s narrative is about the play of Krishna, who is behind every signal event beginning from the winning of Draupadi till the death of Duryodhana and beyond that to save Yudhishthir from Gandhari and Bheem from Dhritarashtra. Sarala’s Krishna makes frenzied love to an old attendant of Radha who is wearing her dress. Their son becomes a thief trained by Krishna to dig a tunnel by which he can reach underneath Radha’s bed. He also digs the tunnel for the Pandavas’ escape from the lac house. Sarala’s Krishna is devoid of scruples. Thus, he asks Ghatotkacha to remain behind Arjun’s chariot and when Karna shoots the infallible missile, he merely moves the chariot so that it kills the unarmed Ghatotkacha. This also fulfils Draupadi’s curse on Hidimbika that her son would die an inglorious death. Krishna even holds a donkey’s feet while entering Jarasandha’s fortress so that it does not betray his arrival! Instead of reciting the Gita, Krishna asks Yudhishthira to act when Arjun is unwilling to fight.

Ganga marries Shantanu (whom Sarala turns into a great Shaiva yogi) believing him to be Shiva. Discovering her mistake, she strives to provoke him into insulting her so that she can desert him. Denying him coitus when he is desperate for it on two occasions leads to his ejaculating on a woman’s portrait whence Chitravirya and Vichitravirya are born. Ganga curses him with death at the hands of her new-born son Bhishma. She also curses his two earlier sons to die issueless, whom Shantanu had hidden away with Parashara’s wife Satyavati because Ganga had cut their first son into two! Shantanu crowns Pandu king and vanishes after he abdicates in favour of Dhritarashtra. This is a telling instance of how Vyasa’s classical image of a river goddess drowning her children by a mortal (as Thetis did too in Greek myth) is turned into a horror story by a later poet.

Sarala creates a love-story around Amba and Bhishma who demands that Amba’s father should marry her to him since her elder sisters had married his elder brothers Chitravirya and Vichitravirya. They are all born of Ganga. Then Shantanu tells him of Ganga’s curse that he would be killed by Bhishma’s son. Therefore, he vows not to marry. When Amba’s father leaves her with him, Pareswara (sage Parashara, Satyavati’s husband) suggests he have intercourse with her but control himself so as not to impregnate her. Bhishma refuses. Then drives her away, afraid of her beauty. She drowns herself.

Duryodhan starves to death his maternal grandfather with his sons to take revenge. They had married Gandhari to a tree first, which died as foretold. Thus, Dhritarashtra married to a widow, which humiliated Duryodhan severely. Shakuni survived and made dice from his father’s bones to destroy the Kauravs by provoking the Pandavs excessively. How Shakuni was spared is explained through a unique tale, typically folk in flavour, about Duryodhan’s smile while urinating. This story of Shakuni’s revenge travelled from the south to Orissa and Bengal. Sarala regards Shakuni as more sinned against than sinning, giving him considerable space to voice his remorse while facing Sahadev and places him after death among the stars along with Bhishma, Drona and Shalya.

Sarala’s Hidimbaki considers Draupadi’s polyandry impure and tells her son Ghatotkacha not to bow to her. Thereupon Draupadi curses him with an inglorious death and, in turn, Hidimbaki curses her to lose her sons. Duryodhan is Pannaga (snake) Narayana reborn and anyone to whom he does namaskar will be burnt to ashes. Hence, he does not salute Balarama who, insulted, blesses the Pandavas instead. Balarama is an avatar of Shiva with snake-hoods, and Brahma becomes Subhadra. After Krishna’s death, Arjun fights Jara till a skyey voice tells him that he was Sugriv earlier and Jara was Angad, his son (not Vali’s). Arjun is the Shrivatsa sign on Vishnu’s breast and was also Prahlada and Bharata. How he could simultaneously be Bharata and Sugriva remains a puzzle.

Sarala has Kunti make her sons touch Karna’s feet as their elder. Before the war Yudhishthir pranams him and Karna blesses him with victory. So the Pandavas know all along that Karna is their eldest brother. Kunti condemns Arjun as a sinner for killing his eldest brother. Kunti’s sons are called Pandava having slain the demon Pandavasura, not because they were sons of Pandu. Krishna warns the Kauravs with the story of Babarapuri kingdom whose people destroyed themselves. Patnaik does not perceive Sarala’s use of irony here, because the description of these people tallies with those of Dvaraka, whose end will be similar. When Arjun is unwilling to start the battle, instead of the Gita, Sarala has Yudhishthir beg Duryodhan for just a single village in vain. When one of the Dhartarashtras, Durdasa, goes over to Yudhishthir’s side, the others attack them. Informed of this by Krishna, Arjun finally decides to join the fray. Yudhishthir proposes a duel between the hundred Dhartarashtras and the five Kaunteyas, to avoid slaughter of armies, but Duryodhan refuses.

Sarala creates a horrendous scene in which Duryodhan tries to cross a river of blood by floating on the corpses of Duhshasan, Karna, Drona, Shakuni and his other brothers, each of which sinks under him. Finally, one body ferries him across. He finds that it is that of his son Lakshman. Before the war, Krishna wished to give him part of the kingdom after the war, but Lakshman only prayed for moksha, as his mother Bhanumati had taught him. When Ashvatthama brings Duryodhan the severed heads of the Pandava sons, Duryodhan severely rebukes him for destroying the lineage and dies clutching the heads to his breast. The same scene occurs in the 16th century Bengali MB of Kashiram Das.

The Oriya and the Bengali retellings also have in common the story of the miraculous mango of truth and Draupadi’s confession of her innermost desire. In Kashiram Das her secret desire is for Karna, while in Sarala the secret is that Arjun is her favourite. However, in Surendra Mohanty’s translation of this episode her secret desire is for Karna. In the 14th century Tamil MB by Villi, the fruit is a myrobalan and in the Kannada by Kumara Vyasa (15th century, the same time as Sarala) it is a rose-apple.

It is interesting to see how Sarala localises the epic tale. The mother of Puru is a nameless “Oriaani” (Oriya lady). Arjun meets Shiva at Kapilasa (near Dhenkanal) with Parvati de-lousing his hair! Parvati cooks a variety of Oriya sweets for Shiva. Duryodhan’s wife Bhanumati warns him not to heed Shakuni and as an example narrates an Oriya folk tale about the ghost Babanaa. She urges him to share the kingdom with the Pandavas. Shakuni tells Yudhishthira the folk tale of woodcutters Melaka and Ananta. Yudhishthir marries Suhani, daughter of Hari Sahu, a trader, in village Dharmapur near Jajpur and lives there for 35 years. Arjun defeats Yama and his attendants when they come to take Suhani at the wedding. Hari Sahu is the first to hear the MB from one of its participants, Sahadev. The Pandavas visit Emkambar tirtha (Bhubaneshwar) and Nilachala (Puri) to see the wooden divinity, as also Konark.

Draupadi and Kunti launch into laments and blistering tirades against the Pandavas and Krishna for not killing Duhshasan and Duryodhan, threatening to commit suicide unless they are killed. When Draupadi has dressed her hair with Duhshasan’s blood, she asks Bheem to spend the night with her. Krishna advises him to pray to her humbly, after satisfying her, to spare the Pandavas and Krishna. Draupadi responds that she would spare Yudhishthir alone. Patnaik finds a possible explanation for this in Krishna telling Gandhari that Yudhishthir cannot die because dharma must be preserved. Draupadi is Ketuka, born of Adi Saraswati’s rage, to kill the fifteenth Sudraka Brahma (Duhshasan) and drink his blood. This destructive aspect of hers is worshipped in the Tamil cult of Draupadi as the Veera Shakti. After the war, Sarala invents a very interesting debate between Kunti, Draupadi, Subhadra, Yudhishthir, Bheem and Arjun each claiming to be the agent of the Kaurav destruction. Bheem’s son Belalasena (his grandson Barbareek in the Puranas), whom Krishna beheaded before the war with the boon that his head would witness it, tells them that it was the discus that slew all. Enraged, Bheem slaps the head, which falls lifeless and its life is absorbed by Krishna. Another invincible warrior Krishna beheaded in advance (lest he join Duryodhan) was Jara’s father Kiratasen, ruler of Kishkindha, granting his head the boon to watch the war from atop his chariot Nandighosh. Sarala makes a great event out of the killing of Karna. As Arjuna cuts off his head, another emerges! It is Sahadev who advises how to Karna can be killed.

Sarala has Agastya sanction that Kunti beget sons by gods, so that their inheritance is beyond question. Durvasa neutralises his mantra when Madri invokes Narayana to have a son by him to outdo Kunti’s sons. Sahadev is born when Pandu has coition with Madri and both die from a skyey arrow. At Surya’s behest, Ashvinikumar revives the baby, who is the only true son of Pandu. Hence, after the dice-game, Duhshasan says that while the four other Pandavas would be servants, Sahadev would rule half the kingdom.

Patnaik admits that his retelling of Sarala is not linear. There is a significant amount of repetition because of his decision to arrange his presentation thematically. He notes how all the characters of Sarala carry distinct folk tale features. He analyses Sarala’s style to reveal its typical characteristics as well as the verisimilitude of his persona. He even tries to find justification for some of the peculiar twists in the plot and in the conduct of the characters. He explains at length Sarala’s concept of moksha as stemming from inimical bhakti for Krishna and the concept of dharma. All opponents crave decapitation by his discus because it leads to salvation. Hence Patnaik calls Sarala’s work a “bhakti purana.” We find the same attitude pervading Jaimini’s Ashvamedha Parva, which is absent from the Vaishampayana version that we are familiar with. Sarala’s Krishna informs Jara that he would manifest as a stone image called Nilamadhava, and later as a tree and would be worshipped by Jara. It is from Jara that king Indradyumna gets to know about the deity. Jara carves the triple icons of Jagannatha, Balabhadra and Subhadra from that tree. When Krishna is asked by Vishnu to return, he bemoans the huge family he had created and is anguished at having to leave them. When he returns, Arjun is with him. Vishnu rebukes him and asks that he bring Balarama along, as he was also an avatar, and ignores Arjun.

In Sarala’s version of the gambling match, it is not Karna but Shakuni who urges that Draupadi be stripped. Draupadi’s furious glance sets fire to the Kaurav female apartments. Duryodhan’s wife Bhanumati, her clothes in disarray, rushes and falls at Draupadi’s feet begging protection. At Draupadi’s glare, Duhshasan collapses, Duryodhan and his brothers fall unconscious, Karna, Bhishma, Drona faint. Curiously, Sarala has Yudhishthir see everyone in Swarga—even his Oriya wife Suhani—but leaves out Dhritarashtra.

In a chapter on Sarala’s women, Patnaik reveals the male chauvinism prevalent in Orissa. Drupad exclaims that however great one might be, one becomes a servant to the family one’s daughter marries into. Better, he says, to abandon one’s wife along with the daughter she gives produces. Drupad points out that Uma’s father perished because of her. Vidur begs Krishna to ensure that he is not reborn as a woman. Out of fear of Draupadi, Yudhishthir does namaskar to her brother Dhrishtadyumna, giving rise to a famous Oriya saying “bhaarijaa darare salaaku namaskaara” (namaskaring the brother-in-law out of fear of the wife). Even during Draupadi’s humiliation, when Bheem thunders at Duhshasan, Yudhishthir rebukes him for one could get a hundred such wives but not brothers; for a mere wife brothers must not be killed. Amba, Ambika and Draupadi bewail their birth as women. Draupadi even tells Krishna that if a man is well-dressed and handsome, a woman will make love to him regardless of his being a brother or a son! This sentiment is also voiced by her in Kumara Vyasa’s Kannada retelling in the episode of the magical Nerali (rose-apple) fruit, which is of the same time as Sarala’s. In Sarala, Kunti, Draupadi and Subhadra accompany the Pandavas on their exile. After a couple of months when Krishna visits, they ask him to take the women with him. He takes Kunti and Subhadra but leaves Draupadi with them, as it is so fated. It is not Draupadi’s decision. She is not consulted when Yudhishthir in old age weds Suhani, though he asks his brothers. Sarala does not have Ashvatthama cursed or injured in any way. Although Draupadi had demanded his head from Krishna, he only takes away his weapons. He even has a cordial meeting with the Pandavas and Draupadi on their last journey. Sarala’s spin on the death of Draupadi and her four husbands is very interesting. Yudhishthir tells Bheem that Draupadi falls because she was unscrupulous, wicked, “duraachaari,” left her hair open, was fanatically vengeful and responsible for the destruction of the dynasty.

Patnaik is wrong in wondering at Kunti pressurising Krishna, “an outsider,” that if he did not ensure war she would commit suicide. Kunti was the elder sister of Krishna’s father, thus a close relative. Sarala’s Satyavati is born when her mother has sex with relatives to get a child. Satyavati does not force levirate on her widowed daughters-in-law. Her husband Pareswara (Parashara) commands her to do this. She persuades them by assuring that all sin, if any, would attach to her and not to them. Sarala gives Vichitravirya a third wife, Ambumati, daughter of the shudra king Kesava of Harikeshara, who has Vidur from Vyasa. Seven years after Yudhishthir’s birth, finding him too mild to be a king, Kunti on her own summons the wind god. Seven years after Bheem’s birth, finding him to be wicked and crude (later, Bheem almost hits her for condemning Krishna), again on her own, she summons Indra to beget Arjun. After these experiences, she is emotionally disturbed, humiliated that the nature of woman is to enjoy intense coitus. She bids her sons share Draupadi because she knows the inner nature of the Pandavas.

Gandhari has a violent slanging match in a Shiva temple with Kunti who, thanks to Arjuna, beats her to being the first to offer a hundred golden champaka flowers to the deity. When Gandhari tries to kill Yudhishthir with her flaming gaze, Krishna ensures that it is her last surviving son Durdasa who is consumed, so that not a single one of the enemy family is left alive. This ruthless aspect of Krishna is Sarala’s own vision, departing from Vyasa who had Yuyutsu, the last Dhartarashtra, become regent on the Pandavas’departure.

Sarala’s Bheem is different from Vyasa’s, in whose version he was fanatically devoted to his brothers. In Sarala, after the house-of-lac episode, when the others go on a pilgrimage to Gautama tirtha, Bheem, not liking the hard life, becomes king of Shivapura, while Kunti continues living in a hut! He even threatens to hit his mother when she criticises Krishna. In the Varanavata exile, when crossing a river infested by the demon Jalaprabha, Bhima proposes to offer up any of his brothers or even mother Kunti (to save her hardship!), but refuses to sacrifice himself. It is Kunti who offers him up instead, because she considers him a liability!

Patnaik devotes unnecessary space trying to explain Balarama’s motivations or lack thereof. He has detailed discussions on the characterisation of Dhritarashtra, Duryodhan, Duhshasan, Shantanu, Bhishma and fine insights into Bheem. The problem is that Patnaik occasionally makes cryptic references and one has to hunt for the explanations which turn up much later in a different context, e.g. the Sudraka Brahma story, or never, as with Durvasa cursing Duhshasan. He ought to have included Sarala’s unique creation, the image of Krishna assuming a chimerical form (Nabagunjara) combining nine animals, man and bird, to meet Arjun during his exile. The four legs are of elephant, tiger, horse or deer, and a human hand. The body is of a lion with a bull’s hump, a snake as tail, the neck of a peacock and the head of a rooster. Patnaik also leaves out the story of Krishna testing Karna’s steadfastness regarding his vow by demanding, as a hungry Brahmin, that Karna and his wife cook their son Bishwakasena for feeding him. The son himself begs his father to oblige the guest. Then the Brahmin demands that the head be pounded and cooked too and that the couple eat with him so that he was sure the food was not poisoned. Karna’s wife Suktatamaschala makes him agree and does all that is demanded. As they sit down to eat, he asks them to call to their son to join them. When they do, he comes running. Duryodhana recalls this supreme gift while shedding tears over Karna’s corpse. Krishna calls Karna the greatest of donors. This story was the centre-piece of Kshirodeprasad Bidyabinode’s hit Bengali play, “Nara Narayan” (1926). It does not occur in Kashiram Das, so the playwright possibly found his material in Sarala.

Patnaik provides a substantial bibliography in the light of which some comparison with the old Konkani Bharata would have enriched the study. It is strange that the CIIL has been so callous as not to provide even a list of contents, which is an essential pre-requisite. In that light, looking for an index is perhaps asking for too much. If the chapters had descriptive headings instead of mere numbers, it would help the reader.

The other book contains no information about when this colloquium took place and nothing about the three respondents. Standard diacriticals for transliterating Sanskrit are not used. For a University publication, this is quite unprofessional. The comments by the three scholars are not particularly valuable. Pratap Bandopadhyay has really nothing to say of consequence that is not well-known about the Mahabharata. Vrinda Dalmiya’s response is worth reading. Her discussion of the “impure agency” of Yudhishthira would have benefited considerably from studying the new insights proffered by Alf Hiltebeitel, James Hegarty, Emily Hudson and James Fitzgerald. Her short paragraph on Draupadi is disappointing, as it does not probe the depths of the character as drawn by Sarala vis-à-vis Vyasa. Syed Sayeed critiques Patnaik’s “simplistic” view of Sarala as a puranic reteller, while admitting his unfamiliarity with Sarala and other versions of the epic. These responses neither reveal a thorough grounding in the Mahabharata, nor familiarity with the variations in regional language retellings. They do not even discuss Sarala’s innovations and his variations on Vyasa’s plot and characters in any depth. Mostly, they are re-workings of second-hand opinions drawn from what others have written about the epic.

MAHABHARATA’S SECRETS

By

Gauri Dharmapal

THE SECRET OF THE MAHABHARATA by Pradip Bhattacharya Parimal Prakashan, Aurangabad, 1985, pp. 159. Rs. 110

Aurobindo Ghose pierced the veil of Vedic mysticism during the second decade of this century. His line was followed up by masters like Nolinikanta Gupta, Kapali Shastri and others. Simultaneously, Swami Pratyagatmananda revealed the Vedic vision of Sound in Japasutram and the deep scientific basis of Veda in Ved-O-Vijnan; and Ramendrasundar Trivedi laid bare the symbolism of Vedic ritual in Yajna-katha. Kshitimohan Sen discovered the link between the Vedas and Baul—the most progressive dharma of the world. Anirvan’s Veda-mimansa in the sixties established the esoteric interpretation of the Vedas on the firm oasis of the spiritual-religious-philosophical experiences of Bharatavarsha through centuries and millenia up to the present day. The reviewer’s view, presented in The Linguistic Atom, Ved-O-Shri Aurobindo and Veder Kobita, also fall in the same line. Rabindranath’s poetry too as shown by the reviewer is floodlit with Vedic experience.

All these findings, though independent of one another, yet pointing to the same conclusions, represent a. common approach to Vedic interpretation—the inner integral approach, which is very different from the external method generally followed by the academic world. Pradip Bhattacharya’s The Secret of the Mahabharata—a brilliant analysis of Vyasa’s myths in terms of Vedic truths—comes as a fresh corroboration of the validity of the integral approach.

Not only individual slokas scattered here and there, but the whole Mahabharata is a Vyasakuta, a unique puzzle—a guide to the secret treasure of the Vedas, written in a unique ambiguous code—left for the future generations to solve. Vyasa has left numerous clues for the solution of his puzzle in the form of Vedic words, phrases, mantras, imagery, woven into the fabric of the epic, which a casual reader is likely to dismiss as chance ocurrences and miss the message thereby. He will also skip over the definite positive statement of Vyasa that he has placed in the epic the mystery of the Veda—veda rahasyam; and his standing guideline to future researchers in Indology: ‘Elucidate the Veda with the help of itihasas and puranas.’ The commentator, Nilakantha, however, has not failed to note here (I. 1. 267-68) by way of illustration that the mayamriga of the Ramayana is nothing but an elaboration of the Vedic concept Of Vritra, the deceitful Coverer, who is described as a mayi mrga in the Rig Veda (1. 80.7).

It is delightful so see that the author of The Secret of the Mahabharata reads correctly the message of Vyasa and following Sukthankar’s penetrating remark that ‘there is an inner significance behind the events so realistically narrated in the Great Epic of India’ and that all great works of Indian art and literature are infused with the idea of achieving one gigantic all-embracing synthesis takes up the key from his observation that ‘many of the scenes of this drama, which at first sight appear to us unintelligible or at least uncouth and grotesque, acquire deep significance when they are treated symbolically’, and proceeds to decipher the Vyasan hieroglyphic.

The first chapter being devoted—and rightly so—to explaining the approach, the subsequent seven chapters are minute analyses of six episodes from the Adi-parva, namely: Utanka, Aruni-Uddalaka, Upamanyu and the Asvins, the Churning of the Ocean, Garuda and Amrita and finally Kacha and the Sanjivani mantra—in which with a marvellous sweep from Veda to Savitri, the author is able to prove that ‘Vyasa is writing directly in the mystic tradition of the Rigvedic rishis, couching spiritual messages in an elaborate symbolic structure.’

The intricate scheme of the Utanka story is beautifully unfolded in one of the most well-written chapters of this book and the parallelism worked out to the minutest detail, in which the grotesque and the uncouth perfectly fit in, Utanka qualifies himself for the acquisition of the Kundala by passing the test of temptation in his guru’s household. The Kundala itself signifies inner listening or shruti so dearly craved for by Ahalya the barren human field or adhara (this can very well become a symbol for barren scholarship craving for the mystic gift of the Word). Thus. Utanka’s story is shown to be nothing but Vyasa’s re-cast of the Vedic Angirasa myth, namely recovery of the lost sun, that is, the Veda.

The clue to the mystic interpretation of the Aruni episode lies, as the author shows, in the incongruity that the disciple is praised for finally splitting apart the dyke, while he was sent to plug the breach. Here, Aruni is playing successively the roles of 1) Ahi-Vritra the serpentine coil covering the divine waters of Bliss and Illumination by covering the waters with his physical body, and 2) Indra, who breaks open the barrier and releases the waters, by splitting apart the dyke. On this small canvas of a story, Vyasa has condensed the whole Vedic theme of the aspiration, suffering and victory of the soul (compare Rabindranath’s Muktadhara), like painting Kanchanjanga in her golden splendour on a postcard.

In the same vein, the ‘Churning of the Ocean’ is shown to be a word-to-word, phrase-to-phrase, symbol-to-symbol equation of the Soma-ritual which represents the churning of the sap of Delight and other divine treasures out of the turbulent depths of the inconscient; while the Garuda-Amrta episode represents the soul soaring high to the super-conscient ‘on the mighty wings of Word’ as observed by the reviewer in her Linguistic Atom.

The Kacha episode depicting the quest for the mantra of immortality provides the finale to this series of symbolic stories, pinpointing the creative Logos—which is the secret of Immortality—as the ultimate dynamic goal of the eternal quest.

Pradip Bhattacharya’s scholarship has an eye and ear for the mystic, which is the essential prerequisite for a researcher in Indology. His book, though full of printing and a few other mistakes, far outshines them, leaving ground, however, for alternative explanations here and there. For example, the name ‘Kacha’, meaning ‘hair’, has been explained, with a note of hesitation though, to hint at the ‘tonsured initiate’. But the meaning which exactly fits in with the esoteric explanation of the story is the ‘hair-like fibre of the Soma’ called amsu in the Rig Veda. In sacrifice, the fibrous Soma represents the sacrificer and its crushing and filtering into a purified flow of delightful juice represents the crushing of the man and transforming him into a stream of pure bliss, the joy of immortality or Higher Life which is called amrita in the Veda. The author has actually noticed the ‘equation of Kacha with Soma’ on p. 141.

Similarly, a roundabout explanation is given to the name Dhanvantari. A more direct and Vedic explanation is: One who has crossed (tari) the desert (dhanvan). Desert in the Veda—and in later poetry too—signifies the barren dry soul deprived of the shower of grace. The descent of divine grace is described as flooding the desert in Rig Veda VI. 12.5. So, the name ‘Dhanvantari’ signifies that through the arduous task of churning the ocean of his lower depths, man at last emerges victorious with the secret of immortality!

In the story of the Churning of the Ocean, Vyasa has inserted many more parallelisms to attract the seeing eye, which, if added, would have given the author a stronger support. Of these, the most striking, perhaps, is. the description of mandara, the churning rod, as savana (I. 18.8). The apparent meaning here is savana that is, ‘with forest’: The mountain was lifted up with its forest and inhabitants (savanam sa-vanankasam), the passage means. But under the cover of a pun, there is a second meaning. Savana also means: savana-sadhana the implement of Soma-crushing. Thus, the Churning of the Ocean becomes with a single stroke equivalent to the crushing of the Soma and all the accompanying symbolism—which the author has established with the help of many other proofs.

To point out a few slips, the name Utanka has always been mis-spelt as Uttanka. Veda—one of the three disciples of Dhaumya—is said (p. 56) to be the only one who is not put to tasks. On the contrary, Veda is the disciple, who was put to the severest of tasks, amounting to rigorous imprisonment. The suffering Veda underwent at the house of his guru taught him to treat his own disciples kindly, comments the Mahabharata. Rules of transliteration have not been followed properly by Bhattacharya, which makes the reading of the mantras extremely difficult.

But all this is secondary. After going through the 155 pages of his book, one is convinced that the Mahabharata is a unique time-capsule invented by Vyasa, the Genius, in which the mystic- knowledge of the Veda—the Grand Synthesis is preserved for posterity, not buried underground but left circulating through a chain of sutas waiting for the initiate to see-listen through the story-coating. We hope the author will carry on his research and explore the continent of Vyasa for the ‘souler’ cows to gaze and graze upon.

This century seems to be set for the reacting of the Angirasa myth. Indologists with a different turn of mind will do well to stop and listen, at this hour of crisis, to the message of the Vedas and Vyasa, and retrace their steps, instead of being lost irrevocably in the maze of erudite hypotheses leading to nowhere, lured by the imposing mayamriga of ‘modern’ researchology.

The Book Review Aug-Dec 1985, volume 10, No 8/12

A.R.Orage on The Mahabharata

By

In 1956 S.C. Nott edited a selection from the Adi and Sambhava Parvas of The Mahabharata, published by The Janus Press, London, pp.205. The selections were made “from the literal and complete edition of Pratapa Chunder Raya, which was translated from the Sanskrit verse into English prose by Pandit Kisari Mohon Ganguli 1883,” with line drawings by Kate Adamson with the help and advice of the Indian Section of the Victoria & Albert Museum; and 4 plates from the Museum. Nott saw parallels between with the Mahabharata (M) and the World Wars which inspired him to make a selection. The selections were:-

  1. Astika Parva: Sarpasattra, Jaratkaru, Churning, Garuda, Amrita, Ruru. Vaisampayana begins narration of the history of Pandavas & Kauravas. Birth of Vyasa.
  2. Sambhava: Sakuntala, Yayati, Ashtaka, birth of Dhritarashtra, Pandu, Vidura, their sons; death of Pandu; Kurus’ jealousy of Pandavas. Birth of Drona. Kanika’s discourse.
  3. Jatugriha
  4. Hidimva Parva; Chaitraratha; Swayamvara; Vaivahika (story of 5 Indras & Draupadi’s marriage); Rajya-labha parva; Arjuna vanavasa parva; Subhadra harana; Khandava dahana; Sabha; Rajasuya arambha; Sisupala; Dyuta, Anudyuta.

Nott provided a Glossary based on Dowson and Garrett’s dictionaries of Indian mythology.

It is the Appendix by Alfred Richard Orage that is of great interest. Orage had studied the M at the Gurdjieff’s Institute at Fontainebleau-Avon and his appreciation grew as he understood G’s system more. Extracts from Orage’s magazine, The New Age:

“The M is the greatest single effort of literary creation of any culture in human history…characters appear by hundreds; & episodes follow episodes with the infinite resourcefulness of Time. Nevertheless, there is no moment when the plan of the work is forgotten. At regular stages…everything is gathered together or is re-assembled for a fresh phase of the continuous history. In the interval, relationships have been established between scores of characters, each of whom, moreover, has undergone mutation by experience, yet on re-assembly, the whole innumerable caravan is marshalled and set off again without the least confusion in the mind of the reader. Never was a writer more currently aware of his reader than Vyasa the author…the most colossal work of literary art ever created, its example and inspiration are as vital and multiform as Time itself. It contains every literary form and device known to all the literary schools, every story ever enacted or narrated, every human type and circumstance ever created or encountered. Unlike the reading of derivative works of art, the reading of the M is a first-hand experience. One ends it differently, just as one emerges differently from everything real. The M towers over all subsequent literature as the pyramids look over the Memphian sands. Realism of the inexhaustible significance of the M would be the initiation of a modern Renaissance…Where but in the M shall our age find a …fresh literary source that shall be scripture to our literature—scripture being literature in pursuit of an impossible aim. It puts Homer into the shade; he is a marvellous boy in comparison with the marvellous manhood of Vyasa…The three great treasuries of stories—the Greek, the Scandinavian and the Teutonic, were all derived from the East by diverse ways and the source and container of them all is—The Mahabharata…More real Mysticism can be gathered from the M than from the whole of modern mystical writings. A walk through its table of contents is more than a Sabbath day’s journey. The Iliad and the Odyssey are episodes in it; and the celebrated Bhagavat Gita is simply the record of a single conversation on the eve of one of its many battles… The Mahabharata is a complete encyclopaedia of human nature. There is no emotion, no conflict, no situation that is not represented in it. We should read the Mahabharata as a textbook of psychology, for it describes the forces that move us more accurately than any modern work.”

Review of “The Mahabharata of Vyasa: The Complete Anuśāsanaparvan”, translated from Sanskrit by Pradip Bhattacharya, Writers Workshop, Kolkata, 2023, pp. 1254, Rs. 3000/-

By

By Prof. Indrajit Bandyopadhyay, Department of English, Kalyani Mahavidyalaya, W.B.

Bhattacharya completes the academic and literary journey embarked upon by Padma Shri Professor Purushottam Lal’s first ever attempt at an English verse “transcreation” of the Mahābhāratain 1968, completing sixteen and a half of the epic’s eighteen books. Following his untimely demise in 2010, Bhattacharya took up the unfinished job of his guru, and translated the Mokṣadharmaparvan of the Śānti-parvan in 2018. His “guru–dakṣiṇā”, as he calls it, is complete with the translation of the Anuśāsanaparvan in 2023.

Bhattacharya humbly acknowledges of “not being a poet like Prof. Lal”, and has “striven to follow the spirit of the Lal transcreation”. He proposes to “keeping to the original syntax as far as possible without making the reading too awkward” realizing “the immensity of what the Professor achieved” and the “Meru-high task”.

Indeed it is no exaggeration, considering the cultural sensitiveness inherent to the massive project. The Śāntiparvan and Anuśāsanaparvan are the twin cruxes of the Mahābhāratan philosophy encapsulating ancient Indian wisdom, thoughts, insights and discourses on various aspects of Dharma: Mokṣadharma, Rājadharma, Strīdharma, Dānadharma, as also the practical and pragmatic applications of dharma in daily life. In short, the Śāntiparvan and the Anuśāsanaparvan are the compendium of Dharmaśāstra and Arthaśāstra. With the well accepted dating of the writtenMahābhārata as commencing in the 4th century BCE marking the transition from the oral text, they may be taken as complementing and corresponding to the Kalpasūtra tradition of Dharmasūtras (600-100 BCE; P. V. Kane’s dating) and Kauṭilya’s Arthaśāstra of the age (3rd century BCE).  

In the Anuśāsanaparvan, various aspects of dharma have been demonstrated through puraṇik narratives, parables and fables, which further highlight the correspondence with Viṣṇu Śarma’s Pañcatantra (200 BCE) and Buddhist Jātaka narratives (circa 3rd century BCE). The parvan has unique tales like that of King Bhaṅgāśvana (13.12) who undergoes a mysterious sex-gender transformation and then prefers to remain a woman because –

“Women in uniting with men have

greater pleasure always.

For that reason, Śakra-Indra, womanhood

I choose indeed.” (Bhattacharya: XIII.12.76)    

In all probability, the original Śāntiparvan was later split to structure the Anuśāsanaparvan as a separate entity. The Spitzer manuscript belonging to the Kuṣāṇa period, and Carbon-14 dated as 80-230 CE, does not mention the Anuśāsanaparvan. Nor does Al-Biruni (973-1050 CE) in his ‘India’, while mentioning that the Śāntiparvan consists of 24000 ślokas. However, Abul Fazal (1551-1602 CE) in his preface to the Razmnama mentions the Śāntiparvan of 14732 ślokas and the Anuśāsanaparvan of 8000 ślokas. This proves beyond doubt that the integrated Śāntiparvan was restructured and split into the present Śāntiparvan and Anuśāsanaparvan somewhere between the 11th and 16th century CE.

It is for that reason, coupled with the fact that Ugraśravā Sauti imagines the Śāntiparvan as the bṛhatphalaḥ (1.1.62d@1_52) or the great fruit of the Bhārata-vṛkṣa (the ‘Mahābhārata-tree’), a glory shared by the Anuśāsanaparvan being originally the fruit, Bhattacharya’s English translation in easy flowing language gains immense cultural significance. Sauti’s “hundred parvan” count regards the Anuśāsanaparvan as the ānuśāsanikaṃ param (1.2.65a) and in the parvan-summary he mentions the parvan as ānuśāsanam uttamam (1.2.201a; 204a).  

The academic and cultural importance of Bhattacharya’s translation, “the first English translation of the Anuśāsanaparvan in free verse (alternate lines of ten and four-to-six feet) and in prose (as in the original)”, rendering the difficult Mahābhārata-ślokas (“cryptic and complicated – true Vyāsa-kūṭas”) accessible to the general public with opportunity of comparative study with other English translations from Kisari Mohan Ganguli to Bibek Debroy, through M. N. Dutt and Van Buitenen, must be ascertained and critically understood in this light.

Bhattacharya experiments with translating Sanskrit into English, as much with English language itself. Bhārata-India being an independent raṣṭra, the colonial hangover must be over. In any case, Sanskrit has no obligation to fit into the English mould. Besides, English is no more an alien language. Therefore, English must now be Indianized by active agency.

Bhattacharya’s translation experimentation pioneers that cultural consciousness. He retains Sanskrit words that are in the Oxford English Dictionary, and following Prof. Lal’s style of rendering some Sanskrit words and giving their contextual English synonym with a hyphen, also coins Sanskrit-English compounds or retains the Sanskrit word as it is. In the latter case, initially, the unused eye and ear may miss the rhythm; however, the Sanskrit-English compound has a rhythm of its own, adds to poetic flavour, enables Bhattacharya to maintain syllable counts in feet, and also enables him to be simultaneously translator and reader.  

Those preferring the rational approach to the Mahābhārata pioneered by Baṃkim Candra Chattopādhyāya in ‘Kṛṣṇacaritra’ (1886) may detect in this parvan several clues to the poetic and rational explanation to why Vyāsa (and “Vyāsaīds” – to use Sukthankar’s coinage) hail Yudhiṣṭhira as the Dharma-Indra king on earth, poetically and mythically represented as Deva Dharma’s biological son and an ex-Indra incarnate. For example, there is an episode in which Yudhiṣṭhira, the “new Indra on earth” meets none other than the devaguru Bṛhaspati to receive essential advice (13.112-114).

This is in all fitness of things. Yudhiṣṭhira is hailed as Ajātaśatru (e.g. 1.133.25c), as Indra is known in the Rigveda (Rv 5.34.1a; 8.93.15c).

In continuation of the Śāntiparvan–Mokṣadharmaparvan liberal philosophic and soteriological discourses and advocacy of liberal varṇa system (portraying non-brāhmiṇ characters like Sulabhā, prostitute Piṅgalā and śūdras as qualified for higher merit and social status through wisdom), the Anuśāsanaparvan advocates “Secular Humanism” significantly mouthed by Maheśvara Śiva in presence of Umā. We recall: Umā teaches Indra about Brahma (Kena Upaniṣad, 4.1).

Bhattacharya, in a rediscovery of his translation style of the Mokṣadharmaparvan, retains the unique experimentations with the translation genre. He departs from customary translations in providing the original Sanskrit śloka in cases of key messages of the Mahābhārata.

For example, Bhattacharya retains Maheśvara’s words to Umā: sarvabhūtānukampī yaḥ sarvabhūtārjavavrataḥ / sarvabhūtātmabhūtaś ca sa vai dharmeṇa yujyate // (CE 13.130.28) and then gives the translation (Bhattacharya XIII.150.39-40; p 917-918).

Similarly, he retains the next śloka: ārjavaṃ dharma ity āhur adharmo jihma ucyate / ārjaveneha saṃyukto naro dharmeṇa yujyate // (13.130.30)

And translates:

“Sincerity is dharma, it is said:

Adharma is crookedness called.

United with sincerity here,

A person is yoked to dharma.”

One central message of the Mahābhārata is the Śiva and Nārāyaṇa oneness (stated unequivocally in the Śāntiparvan, e.g. 12.330.64), or to put it in the historical context, Śaiva and Vaiṣṇava synthesis. 

Here, Śiva’s placing ārjava as equal to and even greater than the Vedas is not only consistent with Vyāsa and Kṛṣṇa’s reformative and dynamic approach to the Vedas (for example, Gītā.2.42 / Mbh. CE 6.24.42), but also brings Jainism and Buddhism within the fold of Dharma and cultural synthesis as part of the great humanistic and synthetic attempt of the Mahābhārata, ārjava (ajjava, ajjavayā, and ajjaviya in Pāli) being one of the key doctrines in both Gautama Buddha and Mahāvīra’s teachings.

In Jainism, ārjava refers to one of the ten-fold dharma (i.e., yatidharma) capable of leading across saṃsāra, according to chapter 3.3 [sumatinātha-caritra] of Hemacandra’s 11th century Triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣacaritra.

One would have missed these dhārmika-saṃskṛtika links had Bhattacharya rendered ārjava as “sincerity” only without giving the original word. Needless to emphasize, the English word “sincerity” falls short of the dhārmika and cultural significance of ārjava.

Another important śloka in Maheśvara’s mouth deconstructing rigid varṇa system is: na yonir nāpi saṃskāro na śrutaṃ na ca saṃnatiḥ / kāraṇāni dvijatvasya vṛttam eva tu kāraṇam // (13.131.49)

Bhattacharya retains the śloka and translates:

“Neither birth, nor sacraments, nor scriptures, nor humility

Are reasons for twice-born-hood. Conduct indeed is the reason”.

The retention of the original śloka gives the reader better opportunity to see the similarity with Gautama Buddha’s teachings in the Tripiṭaka.  

Bhattacharya dedicates the Anuśāsanaparvan translation to the late Alf Hiltebeitel whom he regards “most prolific of Mahābhārata scholars”. This needs special mention because in many ways Prof. Lal and Bhattacharya’s approach to the Mahābhārata has been diametrically opposite to Hiltebeitel’s. While Hiltebeitel was one of the staunchest defenders of the BORI Critical Edition, the guru (Lal) and the “chelā extraordinaire” prefer the “full ‘ragbag’ version” reminding us of the Nīlakaṅṭha tradition, which is, in Sukthankar’s words: “smooth and eclectic”, “of an inclusive rather than exclusive type”. (Prolegomena, LXVI)

To conclude: Bhattacharya’s translation is definitely uttamam true to the laudatory perspective of the Anuśāsanaparvan.

Published in “Indian Literature”, Sahitya Akademi’s Bimonthly Journal, Jan-Feb 2025.

MISOGYNY IN THE MAHABHARATA

By

The Dharma of Unfaithful Wives & the Faithful Jackals By Wendy Doniger. Speaking Tiger, 2024, pp.222, Rs. 499.

Dr. Wendy Doniger has a penchant for catching the reader’s eye by titling her books intriguingly, e.g. The Bedtrick, The Woman who pretended to be Who She Was, etc. Her latest offering is no exception, with a provocative cover: a lovely pattachitra showing many-eyed Indra embracing Ahalya.

The book is much more than what the title suggests. It is a quite a daring project revealing that the two largest tomes of the Mahabharata (the Books of Peace and of Discipline) are not merely dreary didactic perorations but contain nuggets of unusual tales embedded within. She retells tales from the Book of Horse Sacrifice too. There are bad and good women, animal fables, fathers and sons, how Evil (rather Death) entered the world, kings including Indra and her favourite god, Shiva whom she has called, “The god of cool things” (India Today, April 23, 2013). Many of the tales contain peculiar reversals or twists that make us pause and muse.

Women are not just passive victims here, like Utathya’s nameless wife abducted by Varuna, Rukmini whipped by Durvasa, and Oghavati meekly submitting to a guest’s insistence for coitus at her husband’s command. The misogyny is justified by having women speak disparagingly of themselves. The celestial courtesan Panchachuda tells Narada: “Women indeed are the root of sin…For them none is unapproachable” (Anushasana Parva, 39.12, 17). This is because, as Raja Bhangashvana, man-turned-woman, tells Indra, coition gives women greater pleasure than men. Therefore, much to Indra’s astonishment, he prefers to remain a woman. Disha, the Northern Direction, echoes this. Though uniquely independent and unafraid of curses, she denounces women to Ashtavakra as family-destroyers, slaves of sexual desire and never deserving any independence.

Conversely, which Doniger does not note, the Mokshadharma Parva begins with the courtesan Pingala attaining enlightenment out of a frustrated tryst by conquering her senses, musing: “The expectation-less sleeps happily. Non-expectation is supreme happiness” (my translation 168.52). Rishi Bodhya names her as the first of his six gurus (Mokshadharma Parva, 171.7).

In retelling how Vipula prevented his guru’s wife Ruchi from submitting to Indra’s seduction by yogically entering her body, Doniger overlooks how the female ascetic Sulabha humbled Raja Janaka in the same yogic fashion (Mokshadharma Parva, section 320). Vipula’s allegorical encounters with symbols of day and night and the seasons are paralleled by Uttanka’s experiences (eating bull-shit; two women weaving black and white threads; a rotating 12-spoked wheel). Doniger misses this because she chooses not the original Paushya Parva version but the later Ashvamedha Parva one, which she selects to capitalise on the Gautama-Ahalya-Indra myth. Here, Uttanka’s guru is not Veda but Gautama, and the guru’s wife is not nameless but is the “notorious” Ahalya (who) “invent(ed) adultery”. Actually, Uttanka’s tale has nothing to say about women—good or bad; so its inclusion is puzzling. In comparing Vipula’s deed to dying Vidura yogically infusing himself “into his brother’s male body” (p.18) Doniger is mistaken as Yudhishthira is his nephew, not his brother.

Richika instructs his wife that his mother-in-law should embrace not a banyan tree, as Doniger retells, but a peepul (ashvattha). Nor does the mother-in-law tell her daughter that her father Gadhi wanted her to switch the “charus” as Doniger states (p.46).

Among good wives, woman is first extolled as mother in the tale of slow-to-act Chirakari who demurs when his father Gautama bids him kill his adulterous mother (as Jamadagni bade Parashurama kill Renuka). He muses that the mother is the supreme refuge and is higher than the father; that there is no offence in women whereas it is man that offends. The second instance is of Oghavati who obliges an importunate guest sexually, obeying her husband’s command never to refuse a guest anything. The husband sees her as chatteel, echoed in Yudhishthira’s pledging Draupadi as stake. So too with Jamadagni who mercilessly keeps his wife Renuka running under the blazing sun to fetch arrows he shoots. The good wife is, therefore, the subservient one. Doniger has not included here the clincher voiced by Parvati on the dharma of women to Shiva, backed up by 13 river goddesses:

“Husband is indeed woman’s deva,

Husband is friend, husband is the goal,

Equal to the husband no shelter exists,

Nor any deity like the husband.” (Anushasana Parva, 154.72, my translation)

Doniger has not noted that the episode of Durvasa whipping Krishna and Rukmini harnessed to his chariot is paralleled by Chyavana doing the same with Raja Kushika and his queen (Anushasana Parva, 53.41) with an identical conclusion. Here, too, the ideal of suffering all atrocities silently is upheld. Similarly, the princess Sukumari remains devoted to Narada although he gets a monkey’s face.

The section about fathers and sons retells the deeply moving story of Vyasa’s anguish over his vanished son Shuka. The tale of gold-spitting Suvarnashtivi is taken from the Shanti Parva version where he is devoured by a tiger but resurrected by Narada. The earlier version in the Drona Parva (section 55) is the original of the golden goose tale. Robbers cut open the prince but, finding no gold, kill one another. There is no resurrection here.

Possibly the most appealing in the retellings are animal fables (pious and greedy jackals, stupid and wise tigers, the foolish camel, the three types of fish) that stress virtue and intelligence. A unique fatalistic story about a dog and a sage states that one’s inherited nature does not change despite keeping the best company. Most akin to the Panchatantra and the Hitopadesha is the fable about the cat, the mouse, the owl, the mongoose and the hunter. Its view of life is hard-headed and unemotional: “No one is anyone’s enemy. No one is anyone’s friend…Self-interest is the most powerful factor…people protect themselves.”

Doniger does well to include the little-known story about the starving rishi Vishvamitra trying to steal an untouchable’s haunch of a dog for food telling the protesting Chandala, “One can only achieve dharma when one is alive…I will even eat what should not be eaten (to live).” However, this incident does not occur in the Kali Yuga as she writes (p.128) but when the Dvapara Yuga had just begun (Shanti Parva, 139.14).

A very shocking story is about a wicked Brahmin ignorant of the Vedas—ironically named “Gautama” (enlightened)—who devours a heron that had saved him in acute distress and robs a rakshasa king who had fed him. Despite this, when the heron is resurrected, he persuades Indra to resurrect Gautama whom he considers his friend. Gautama is cursed by the gods to a terrible hell. Character, not birth, makes a Brahmin.

One section is devoted to the fascinating tale of the origin of Death (not “Evil” as Doniger writes; from Shanti Parva section 238, not 283). Mrityu-Death is a woman, clad in black-and-red cloth formed from Brahma’s fury to lighten the over-populated earth, who obdurately refuses to kill. Her tears of misery become diseases that kill. There is an equally interesting tale about what sets a king apart from other humans. Here Brahmins slay the tyrannical king Vena and install the unknown Prithu who comes to be known as “raja” because he pleased (ranjita) the people and becomes Vishnu’s embodiment on earth. Hence the divine right of kings. One of the founders of the Lunar Dynasty, Pururavas, was also killed by Brahmins. Therefore, Parashurama is by no means the only kshatriya-killing Brahmin. Punishment (danda) is the raja’s bounden duty—even chopping off the Brahmin Likhita’s hands.

There is also a strange story about a king affronted when seven starving sages (including Vishvamitra) refuse his offer of food because accepting gifts from a kshatriya destroys ascesis. Shockingly, these sages were about to cook the corpse of that same king’s son for food to save their lives! Their cannibalism attracts no censure! The affronted king sends a female spirit to kill the sages. They are saved by Indra, disguised as sage Shunahsakha, “friend of dogs”.

Dogs have a curious double aspect in the Mahabharata. Although considered polluting, Dharma himself becomes a dog accompanying Yudhishthira on his last journey and Uttanka is offered amrita by Indra disguised as an untouchable with a dog. Sarama, the celestial bitch, curses Janamejaya because his brothers beat her son at their yajna. Hence the snake-sacrifice remains incomplete.

Several stories about Indra are retold: two versions of his killing Vṛitra and how he slew Vishvarupa, incurring the sin of Brahminicide and how he regained his throne; not by killing Nahusha as Doniger writes (p.179), but by his queen Shachi tricking Nahusha. Indra tricks the parched Uttanka out of drinking amrita by offering it in the desert as an untouchable’s urine. In the Paushya Parva Uttanka ate bull-shit that was actually amrita given by Indra. Stories of Shiva are included: how he destroyed his father-in-law Daksha’s yajna by creating Fever (jvara); how Ushana the Asura-guru came to be called Shukra on emerging from Shiva’s penis; how Skanda was born from Shiva and speared the asura Taraka to death.

Doniger writes wittily as always, showing that the two largest and most tedious books of the Mahabharata contain interesting tales. However, she does enjoy shocking. Thus, instead of describing Brihaspati and Shukra as preceptors/gurus of the gods and demons, she uses the Italian “consigliore”, implying that both groups are Mafia!

Published in the May 2025 issue of The Book Review