Pradip Bhattacharya

Indologist, Mahabharata scholar

Mahabharata

APPROACHING THE ADI-KAVI

By

APPROACHING ADI-KAVI VALMIKI[i]

Pradip Bhattacharya

The Department of Comparative Literature of Jadavpur University founded by the litterateur Buddhadeb Bose in 1956 was the first such in India.  It has now embarked upon an ambitious project: a series of research publications in four categories, viz. Texts, Contexts, Methods; Indian and Asian Contexts; Literature and Other Knowledge Systems; and Lecture Series. The overpriced slim volume under review belongs to the last category. From the editors’ Introduction it seems that Goldman did not deliver this lecture but sent it as a written contribution. This is a pity, because documented interaction with an audience would have made it a far more significant publication. This extremely well-written “lecture” is not much more than an introduction for beginners, albeit a very competent one, to Valmiki’s work and hardly falls under the rubric of “research”.

The Ramayana (R) presents specific hurdles before the modern reader: it depicts a civilization of circa the first millennium BCE far removed from us; its language is ancient Sanskrit, which is not easily accessible. Further, Sanskrit did not have a principal script universally used. The R has spawned widely varying versions in almost all languages and different scripts of South and Southeast Asia “from Afghanistan to Bali” and is depicted in varied media. Surprisingly, Goldman makes no reference to the Belgian priest Camille Bulcke’s encyclopaedic Hindi study of these variations.[ii]

Adopting the linguist Kenneth Pike’s terms emic (subjective) and etic (objective), Goldman identifies two types of group-approaches to the R. In the former, fall variations in Indian languages and media. The latter is consists of scholarly studies in various disciplines world-wide, including translations in non-Indian languages.

Goldman asserts that the presumption of a single divinely inspired composer disseminating his composition through twin rhapsodes who recited it in toto before the public is a myth. The text would have undergone changes on the lips of differing bards and redacteurs owing to lapses in memory and improvisations responding to the changing audience and place. We can witness this phenomenon today in the “Pandavani” folk retellings of the Mahabharata (M) in Central India. Those Ramayana rhapsodes were given the collective name, “Valmiki”. Thus, like many Western Mahabharata scholars who dismiss Vyasa as a myth, Goldman denies the existence of Valmiki.

Further, he denies the possibility of so bulky a work being transmitted orally from Afghanistan to Bali without being reduced to writing, as evinced by innumerable manuscripts in circulation through South and Southeast Asia from about the end of the first millennium CE. Errors and changes occurred while copying a manuscript into different scripts. Thus, between the Northern and the Southern Indian script recensions only about one third are identical. Moreover, within each recension there are regional variations depending on the script in which the copies have been made.

A very important clarification Goldman provides is that the Baroda critical edition of “India’s National Epic” does not represent the original, but seeks to present an archetype constructed out of the best manuscripts that would be nearest to the period of the oldest available manuscripts. The abundance of textual variants poses a major problem in trying to assess the poem’s original form. Goldman hazards a guess that the R was produced around 500-100 BCE, while its oldest manuscripts go back only to the 12th or 13th centuries CE. So we have over 1700 years of no written record of the R. Therefore, “the etic reconstruction of the Ramayana’s genetic history is naturally going to be at odds with its emic receptive history of the work.” While to scholars it is a bardic poem orally performed and transmitted, to its audience it is the work of a single composer, the first poet (adi–kavi), who was a contemporary of Rama in mythical times. An avatar of Vishnu, he descended on earth to destroy demonic oppressors of sages and establish a golden age lasting millennia. Thus, according to the emic view, “it is a chapter of divine history rendered in a new form, that of poetry.” Raising the stimulating question, is the R “a poetic history or a historical poem”, Goldman leaves it hanging in the air. It would have been very interesting to study the reactions of the audience, had this been a live lecture.

Looking into the nature of the R vis-à-vis the M, Goldman notes that the former is far more poetic and emotional than the latter. The predominant emotion of the R is “karuna rasa”, pathos, whereas for the M a new emotion was added by the critic Anandavardhana (c. 9th century CE), “shanta rasa”, worldly-detachment or serenity. Earlier, the poet Bhavabhuti (c. 8th century CE), had asserted that “karuna” is the only rasa. However, in his last work Alf Hiltebeitel has argued very persuasively that the M’s rasa is “adbhuta-wonder”. Where the R holds up a mirror for rulers and families, the M portrays the incredibly complex ramifications of dharma in society and the individual.

Besides ignoring the story of Rama recounted in the M, Goldman has not noticed another structural similarity between the two mahakavyas that young Ramayana aficionado Saikat Mandal has pointed out. The Tilaka commentary on R by Nagoji Bhatta or Ramavarma (1730-1810) glosses the Uttarakanda as the “khila” (supplement) of the R just as the Harivamsha is of the M. The significance of this needs exploration.

Goldman expatiates at length on how the R records the inception of Valmiki’s composition, which is “a later addition to the fully developed work” for establishing it as the divinely inspired first poem. Its list of seven of the eight “rasas” shows it to be later than Bharata’s treatise, Natyashastra. Goldman goes on to show how the R differs from the Homeric epics in characteristics such as rapidity, being plain and direct in syntax, language and thought. He finds Valmiki hyperbolic, using rhetorical figuration aplenty, highly formulaic and repetitive, unlike Homer’s directness. The literary quality of the R is complicated, being a poem to delight while also being a chronicle. Goldman could have noted how, in all these features, the R is similar to the M and also different, as discussed at length by Sri Aurobindo in “Vyasa and Valmiki”.

Further, the R has grammatical forms that violate Panini’s rules and could be seen as poetic flaws. Its first and seventh books are of a later date, in less refined language. Goldman quotes at length from Homer and Valmiki to exemplify his arguments and to show how adept the latter is in portraying beauty in persons and in nature, including the frightful. Pursuing Abhinavagupta’s view of rasadhvani, Goldman analyses how the raw emotion of grief is sublimated by Valmiki to make karuna rasa the major aesthetic flavour of poetic composition, transmuting shoka (grief) to shloka (verse). The climax is reached in ending with Sita’s descent into the depths of the earth, leaving Rama desolate.

[i] Robert P. Goldman: Reading with the Rsi—a cross-cultural and comparative literary approach to Valmiki’s Ramayana. Orient BlackSwan, Hyderabad, 2023, pp. xvii+54, Rs.385/-

[ii] English translation The Rama Story by Pradip Bhattacharya published in 2022 by the Sahitya Akademi.

An Epic of Wonder, not of War and Peace

By

Alf Hiltebeitel: World of Wonders: The work of Adhbutarasa in the Mahabharata and the Harivamsa. Oxford University Press, 2022, pp. 343.

When Akbar commissioned a Persian rendering of the Mahabharata (MB), he named it Razmnama, the Book of War. Centuries earlier, however, the Kashmiri aestheticians had argued that the dominant flavour (“rasa”) of MB is shanti, peace, with its stable emotion (“sthayi bhava”) of “vairagya”, detachment. Alf Hiltebeitel, the most prolific scholar on MB, who passed away in January 2023, presents a challenging thesis in his most recent foray, namely that neither the heroic (“vira”), as generally presumed, nor peace (shanti), but rather wonder (“adhbhutam, ashcarya”) is the primary flavour along with its stable emotion of surprise (“vismaya”). He is building on a realisation recorded in the last chapter of his earlier book, Freud’s Mahabharata, about the replenishing of Draupadi’s garment (referring to it anachronistically as “sari” repeatedly) being termed the greatest wonder in the world, “adhbhutatamam loke”. His search of the electronic text for the cluster “adbhutam-ashcharya-vismaya,” in MB and the Harivamsha (HV) confirmed the preponderance of the wondrous and showed that HV is part of the epic, not a mere appendix. He finds roughly 592 occurrences of “adbhutam-ashcharya” and 339 of “vismaya-vismita” distributed fairly evenly across both HV and MB. It is this dominant “rasa” that makes for the unity of the epic.

Hiltebeitel points out that the last three books of MB, with a total of eighteen chapters (like the Gita’s and the 18 books ot the epic), expose us to a series of rude shocks, presenting “unexpected outcomes”. The deaths of Krishna and Balarama, the submergence of Dvaraka, the looting of Arjuna’s caravan that destroys his heroism, Yudhishthira’s condemnation of dharma and the gods after his vision of hell and Janamejaya’s last question are analysed in detail. After Vaishampayana has explained that every hero (the women are not mentioned) merged into his original identity, Janamejaya was highly astonished (“vismito ‘bhavad atyartham”). The dominant flavour “wonder” and its stable emotion “surprise” are repeatedly evoked. The epic ends with the “Bharata Savitri” of the concluding statement by Vyasa “of wondrous deeds” to his son Shuka.

Varying perceptions about MB existed contemporaneously with the Kashmiri aestheticians of the 9th and 10 centuries CE. The first regional retelling of MB saw it as a heroic narrative, which is why Peruntevanar made Krishna his hero in the Tamil Paratavenpa (9th century CE) and Pampa had Arjuna crowned king at the end after Yudhishthira’s abdication in the Kannada Vikramarjunavijaya (10th century CE). Hiltebeitel finds that the “adbhutam” clusters are fairly evenly distributed in both MB and HV, missing only from Book 17 (the Great Departure). He concludes that the element of surprise is as evident as the didactic and other elements like Krishna and the divine plan, Vyasa’s role, the snake sacrifice, the ending of Janamejaya’s tale, Sauti and Shaunaka.

The two lists of contents identify sections as “wondrous”, not referring to any other “rasa”. Vyasa’s miraculous summoning of the dead in Book 15 is described as exceptionally and uniquely wondrous, while Books 5, 8 and 4 are called particularly “adbhutam”. Before Hiltebeitel, no had one noted these. Analysing the occurrences in each book he finds that Book 3 (Forest Exile), is the most wonder-laden book. Among the four war books, the largest wonder-cluster occurs in the Book of Drona while the Book of Karna is the only one of them to be described in the list of contents as “full of meanings and wonders” and to devote an adbhutam-cluster to Karna. In the Bhishma Parvan they are applied to Arjuna; in the Mokshadharmaparvan they occur in the Shuka story and the Narayaniya, and in the Anushasana Parvan in the Uma-Maheshvara dialogue.

In most of the wonder passages the focus is mostly on the three Krishnas: Krishna (Books 5-9), Vyasa (Book 1, alternating with Krishna in Books 10-13 and dominating in 14-15, 17-18), Krishna (Book 16) and Draupadi (end of Book 1 to Book 4). The others focussed upon are Arjuna, Karna, Bhima and Shiva. It is the three dark Krishnas who represent, writes James Fitzgerald, “wondrous realities of the world.”

Most episodes in Book 14 (the horse-sacrifice) have the wondrous quality. Vyasa’s pupil Jaimini’s version of the book is chock-full of magic and marvels, which is possibly why Akbar chose this to be translated into Persian for his Razmnama instead of Vyasa’s original composition and why regional Mahabharatas often do the same. This book culminates in the utterly surprising debunking of the horse-sacrifice by the episode of the mongoose. This Ashvamedha Parva is surpassed by the “very great wonder” of Book 15, as the list of contents describes the Forest Ashram. Here Vyasa not only conjures up all the dead heroes, but also gets all the widows to commit suicide in the river to meet their husbands, ridding the new monarchy of the sound of endless lamentation Much earlier he had made his mother and two sisters-in-law leave the world too. Nowhere in any epic world does the epic’s composer kill off so many of his characters himself.

Hiltebeitel commits a major mistake in glossing Satyabhama as Kamsa’s sister (p. 259). On p. 289 the printer’s gremlin is very much in evidence (“Virad”, “Vior”, “vita”, “Vi”, “amring the en”, “Vieap’s” etc.), p. 292 (“amatamanthana”) and footnotes 161 (“collerium”) and 162 (“Markakrsnadeya”). Footnote 191 refers to “Haberman” who is missing from the references.

At the very beginning of HV Shaunaka praises the MB for its extremely wondrous deeds and amazing discourses. HV is replete with amazing revelations of Krishna’s divinity to Akrura et.al. that tie-up with Narada’s visions in MB’s Narayaniya. Hiltebeitel notes that the 36 clusters of surprise and wonder in HV “speak the same language as the MB”, not that of bhakti rasa. Both works stress “devotion to the vigorous heroic deity in the same world of wonders and not on his being at the centre of the devotions of his parents, sons, friends, lovers, or admiring sages.” It is by looking at MB and HV as works of literature and not primarily as theological and ethical texts that their wonders and surprises work, hinting at “a below-the-surface sense of sacrificial beauty.”

Hiltebeitel explores this aspect through the conflagration set off by Krishna’s Vaishnava energy during his ascesis and by that of Shiva when Uma covers his eyes, that consume life on the Himalayas. The same Vaishnava tejas decapitates Shishupala, whose energy merges into Krishna. The production of amrita by churning the ocean that destroys all life on Mount Mandara, mingling their “rasas” and by the Nara-Narayana duo killing asuras is analogous to this. In HV the acme is Krishna uplifting Mount Govardhana and simultaneously becoming the mountain as Indra drenches it, just as he did Mount Mandara. The Govardhana incident would have been a far more appropriate cover than the Kalighat painting depicting Krishna with Yashoda milking a cow. Hiltebeitel shows how HV is original in “thematizing an aesthetic of sacrifice” in which the Earth becomes “sacrificially beautiful…it is through her that all forms of life and death flow meaningfully together.” The Harivamsha Parva closes emphasizing that Krishna is the sole wonder and that all wonders emerge from Vishnu, the most blessed. HV is as much an adbhutarasa text as MB and is part and parcel of the epic.

DRAUPADI THE GODDESS VIRA-SHAKTI

By

Alf Hiltebeitel: The Cult of Draupadi: Mythologies from Gingee to Kurukshetra Vol.1 (Motilal Banarasidass, Delhi, pp.487, Rs.200/-)

The 1980s witnessed a remarkable resurgence of Indian mythology in literary, theatrical and academic spheres. If in literature we saw the gripping Hindi dodecalogy of Ram Kumar Bhramar on the Mahabharata while novels on the epic came in Bengali from Kalkut and Dipak Chandra, in Oriya from Pratibha Ray, in Kannada from S.L. Bhyrappa, and in English from Maggi Lidchi Grassi and Elaine Aron, on the stage the agony of Draupadi, five-husbanded-yet-husbandless, was unforgettably brought home in Shaoli Mitra’s one-woman performance, Nathavati anathavat. In academia, Dr. Alf Hiltebeitel produced the first volume of his profound study of the cult of Draupadi in 1988 which is now finally available in an Indian edition from Motilal Banarsidass.

Tracing the South Indian cult of Draupadi to Gingee (it also exists in Sri Lanka, Fiji and Singapore), Hiltebeitel launches an elaborate investigation into how it incorporates dimensions of a multiplicity of cults relating to village goddesses, heroes, lineage/caste/boundary deities, possession and even those of the supreme triad of the Hindu pantheon: Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva. The Draupadi cult is a fascinating combination of the folk and the classical traditions, which the scholar investigates chiefly through the Terukkuttu dramas (street plays) reaching out to the classical and vernacular epic traditions as well as analogous cults for further insights. To provide a focus for this considerably involved phenomenon Hiltebeitel inspiredly seizes upon an 18 verse invocatory song sung at the beginning and the end of Draupadi festivals. It is the ramifications of these 18 verses that are brought out painstakingly in the study, of which this is only the first volume.  

Hiltebeitel finds that Draupadi is actually a multi-form of Durga and Kali as Vira Shakti/Vira Panchali with her virginity repeatedly stressed. In this aspect, her power is destructive and dangerous even to her husbands. Her children are born out of drops of blood pierced out of Bhima’s hand with her nails as she returns after nocturnal foraging. Like her sister-goddess Ankalamman, whose cult shares the same region, Draupadi roams Kali-like in forests and crematoria. The Telegu tradition has Krishna explain to Bhima that Draupadi is the primal Shakti whom he had promised to satiate with human flesh and that is why he has arranged the Kurukshetra War, during which she roams the battlefield at night consuming corpses. Sensing that Krishna has lent part of his energy to Bhima to solve his problem of satisfying her sexually, Draupadi demands that Krishna now marry her, which he promises to do in future as Jagannatha of Puri. To Hiltebeitel it remains a mystery how this promise is kept.

However, the answer is available in Charolette Vaudeville’s 1982 paper on ‘Krishna and the Great Goddess’ in The Divine Consort  which notes that Ekanamsa/Subhadra/Durga is found in the consort’s position, that is the left side, of Jagannatha when the icon of Baladeva is absent, and that the original temple in Puri was occupied by Maha-bhairavi Adishakti under the name Vimala-devi. Draupadi’s Shakti aspect is conclusively established at the end of the Terukkuttu cycle in the stance Draupadi takes atop Duryodhana’s thigh or chest, like Durga atop Mahishasura, pulling out his intestines while Krishna braids her hair. The 18-day war covered by the Terukkuttu cycle marks the end of a festival that can, therefore, be said to recapitulate the Navaratri or Vijayadashami festival of Durga. 

In Draupadi’s victory a critical role is played by the folk-figure of Pottu Raja/Pormannan, the Buffalo-demon/king turned devotee, who brings her the five instruments required for her victory. A unique feature of the cult is the icon of the Muslim devotee Muttal Ravuttan who is analogous to the Marathi Khandoba. Draupadi defeats Muttal is after he has imprisoned the Pandavas and becomes the guardian of the north. Another fascinating instance of local myth-making is the second birth of Draupadi invoked by King Cunitan (Sunitha), a descendant of the Pandavas, to save the kingdom from the hundred-headed demon Rochakan/Acalamman. As the demon has the boon that whoever cuts off his hundredth head will die if it touches the ground, Pottu Raja agrees to hold it forever. At the spot where Draupadi disappeared after killing the demon, the Gingee temple was built with a figure of Pottu Raja before it holding the demon’s head. Hiltebeitel perceptively notes how the cult splits into two the functions of Bhairava: the role of the dog who keeps the blood of Brahma’s head from touching the ground and the position of kshetrapala go to Muttal Ravuttan; the all-destroying Brahmic head stuck to his hand goes to Pottu Raja, keeping in hold the destructive power and reminding us of the severed head of the buffalo-demon Mahisha.  

The Terukkuttu cycle also reveals a different facet of Krishna. His overwhelming concern is that the Pandavas fulfil their war vows without being upstaged by their sons who are seen as rakshasic. Hence, he brings about the deaths of Aravan (Iravan), Ghatotkacha, Abhimanyu ‘ each of whom would have destroyed the Kaurava army in a day ‘ and of Draupadi’s five sons.

There are a couple of issues that remain unresolved in Hiltebeitel’s thesis. On page 323, he speaks of the coalescence of serpent and elephant in Aravan’s ancestry by making out that Ulupi belongs to the line of Airavata ‘the elephant mount of Indra.’ This is incorrect. This Airavata is the name of a serpent and is not identical with Indra’s mount, as the Adi Parva of the epic makes abundantly clear while listing the major serpents. On page 397, he expatiates on the theme of flawed caste-character of the five Kaurava generals, which certainly cannot apply to Bhishma and Shalya. He does not provide any evidence for the alleged rakshasic nature of Draupadi’s sons. Again, on page 288 he states that only Villi has the nelli (myrobalan) episode in which Draupadi’s desire for a sixth husband is exposed. However, this occurs also in the Bengali Mahabharata composed by Kashiram Das where, using a mango, Krishna gets Draupadi to confess her desire for Karna as her sixth husband. While elaborating the South Indian myths about Krishna’s role in Karna’s death he does not take into account the rich myths regarding the last moments of Karna prevalent in the vernacular traditions in western and eastern India which enhance his nobility to sublime heights as in the Bengali play Nara Narayana by Kshirodeprasad Bidyabinode and in Shivaji Sawant’s epic Marathi novel Mrityunjay. 

These, however, hardly detract from the major contribution made by Dr. Hiltebeitel to the understanding of our own mythic traditions ‘about which our own intelligentsia are criminally insouciant’, as kept alive even in the twenty first century through the folk theatre, which is swiftly dying out in the absence of financial support. Enriched with 34 invaluable plates recording key events in Terukkuttu performances and a number of maps laying out the cult territory, this thesis ought to awaken the South Zone Cultural Centre to the need of reviving our dying tradition by providing the necessary support. Otherwise Draupadi the goddess might again have to bewail her fate as nathavati anathavat, ‘many-husbanded yet husbandless’!

Freud, Bose and the Mahabharata

By

Alf Hiltebeitel: Freud’s Mahabharata. Oxford University Press, New Delhi, pp. xxiii+298, Rs. 650.

The cover of Hiltebeitel’s “Freud’s Mahabharata” has an interesting personal involvement on my part. Alf had emailed me in desperation having failed to trace this sketch drawn from a portrait of Freud (sent by Freud to Bose in 1926) by a Bengali artist Jatindra Kumar Sen commissioned by Dr. Girindrashekhar Bose which he used as the cover of the first edition of his Bengali work, “Swapna” (1928). With some difficulty Smt. Sunita Arora of the National Library (who had been put on the job by my young colleague Shri Raghavendra Singh IAS, its Director) traced it to a very fragile copy, repaired their high-resolution camera for taking a good photograph and sent that to me which I emailed Alf. That is how a Bengali artist’s sketch ended up on a work published abroad and in India. Bose removed the sketch from subsequent editions of “Swapna” possibly because he fell out with Freud around 1931. Dr Bose had sent Freud an icon of Vishnu seated on Ananta which Freud kept on his desk. This features as the cover of Hiltebeitel’s “Freud’s India”.

Hiltebeitel’s new work follows up on his “Freud’s India” where he explored personal experiences following his father’s death and his divorce that recalled Freud’s life. The cover of the book has an interesting story. Hiltebeitel had emailed me for help having failed to trace this sketch drawn from a portrait of Freud by a Bengali artist, Jatindra Kumar Sen commissioned by Dr. Girindrashekhar Bose, founder of the Indian Psychoanalytic Society, from a portrait Freud had sent him in 1926. Bose used it as the cover of the first edition of his Bengali work, “Swapna” (1928). With some difficulty Smt. Sunita Arora of the National Library (who had been put on the job by its Director, my young colleague Shri Raghavendra Singh IAS) traced it to a very fragile copy, repaired their high-resolution camera and sent me a photograph which I emailed Hiltebeitel. Bose had sent Freud an icon of Vishnu seated on the serpent Ananta, which Freud kept on his desk. This features as the cover of Hiltebeitel’s book, “Freud’s India”. Bose removed the sketch of Freud from subsequent editions of “Swapna” possibly because he fell out with Freud around 1931. Freud had referred to Bose in 1922 as an extraordinary professor who had founded a local psychoanalytic group in Calcutta.

The book immediately stimulates interest by its intriguing title since Freud never mentions the Mahabharata (MB). Dipping into it we find that it is in three parts of which the middle portion consists of chapters 2 through 5. Chapters one and six are the first and third parts. Beginning with Freud’s essay, “Das Unheimliche” (The Uncanny, as translated by James Strachey), Hiltebeitel links the MB by arguing that its dominant flavor (“rasa”) is the uncanny, as Sheldon Pollock translates “adbhuta”, and not the heroic (“vira”). He interprets the story of the five Indras immured in a cave as a pre-Oedipal intra-uterine fantasy of being buried alive, which Freud called “the most uncanny thing of all”. Hiltebeitel misses out Edgar Allan Poe’s terrifying take on this in “Tomb of Ligeia”.

In an elaborate examination of the myth of Aravan/Iravat/Kuttantavar, Hiltebeitel links his overhearing in the womb about Krishna’s wish to kill him and then emerging feet first to kick Krishna into the ocean with Freud’s theory about the return to the womb in sleep. Hiltebeitel sees in this ocean a reflection of “the oceanic feeling” that Romain Rolland wrote to Freud about, troubling him no end. There are analogous stories about Ahiravana in the Bengali Ramayana of Krittibas and Vivek in the Bengali Mahabharata of Kavi Sanjay which would have added grist to Hiltebeitel’s mill.

Influenced by Freud’s “Moses and Monotheism”, Hiltebeitel theorizes that the MB’s core myth of the divine plan to unburden the Earth reflects the trauma experienced by rural Vedic Brahmin communities of foreign invasions and the impact of “India’s second urbanization” after 500 BCE in the Gangetic plain, the first having been the Harappan civilization. This is the “urban unconscious” of Brahmanism, like Freud’s Judaism. Interestingly, the demons-on-earth (Jarasandha, Kamsa etc.) occupy the chief cities (Rajagriha, Mathura etc.). Hence, the extolling of forest-living gleaners.

It is surprising to find Hiltebeitel supporting the long discredited theory, revived by F. Wulff Alonso, of Indian epics drawing upon the Greek mythic corpus for their matter of the divine plan to relieve Earth’s burden. He does admit, however, that the MB’s myth is apocalyptic unlike the Homeric. This myth that is practically the frame story is repeated five times. First by Vaishampayana in his genealogical account, next twice by Vyasa narrating the five Indras myth and while consoling Dhritarashtra after the war, the fourth time by Narada during the rajasuya yajna and finally at the end by Vaishampayana.

Hiltebeitel finds a parallel to Freud’s “phylogenetic myth-making” with the MB’s combining myths of genealogy, cosmology, sacrifice and war in the ontogenesis of its divine plan. Freud’s assertion that the primal patriarch drove his sons out when they came of age, virtually castrating them, whereafter they could remain in the horde as harmless labourers (a stage corresponding to dementia praecox), is paralleled in the MB’s myth of Yayati disinheriting and banishing all but one of his sons. Hiltebeitel even suggests that at 23 volumes Freud’s work is larger than the MB, both texts looking to forge a new consciousness of a civilization, both heterogenous in relating myth to narrative, stylistically varied , dialogical, propounding a heroic persona with a prominent role for women.

Hiltebeitel juxtaposes the MB’s three tales about dead mothers (Madri, the Nishada woman, the corpse supposedly of their 180 year old mother strung up on a tree by the Pandavas) with Freud’s three texts dealing with the dead mother complex. Kunti is seen in the role of a dead mother to Yudhishthira, staying aloof from him and finally abandoning her sons, just as Gandhari never looks upon her children and finds Duryodhana rejecting her in open court. Hiltebeitel posits that it is Satyavati or even her fishy mother Adrika (Acchoda in the Harivamsha) to whom the Pandavas refer, as the corpse of their 180 year old “mother”, its stink being linked to her fishy birth. The dead mothers stack up over five generations (5 x 36 years per generation = 180) beginning with Satyavati (from the Yamuna) and Ganga, ending with Draupadi’s ultimate sonlessness. Satyavati is known by her fishy odour inherited by Vyasa. She is dark like the river Yamuna across which she plies a ferry, as contrasted with the pellucid celestial river, the Ganga. That she is originally called “Kali” is very significant. In iconography, Vishnu’s two wives are the Earth goddess and Shri-Lakshmi, both of whom are at the core of the MB’s divine plan.

Hiltebeitel devotes considerable space to examining how Freud’s interests are paralleled by the knowledge about Indian goddesses of Dr. Girindrashekhar Bose (who sent Freud an icon of Vishnu and had his portrait sketched which forms the cover of this book). Differing from Freud, Bose said that in India the wish for castration occurs early in childhood when, identifying with the mother, he wishes to be female. Dread of castration comes later in the Oedipal identification with the father. Hiltebeitel posits that Kali fits the profile of Bose’s “Oedipus mother”. Issues of castration come up in the cult of Aravan/Kuttantavar who sacrifices himself to Kali before the MB war.

Bose theorized that the wish to be hit always accompanies a wish to hit. In “Freud’s India” Hiltebeitel had wondered whether this wish to be struck characterizes snakes. Aravan’s mother is the female serpent Ulupi. Snakes who “infest the MB”, argues Hiltebeitel, largely represent not tribals but the unconscious, “basic raw wishes, hostilities, or desires” of the unconscious. Analysing three versions of the Aravan/Iravat/Kuttantavar tale, Hiltebeitel finally admits that his self-sacrifice before the war (“kalappali”) cannot be said to involve a wish to be struck. However, this Tamil cult, much celebrated by Hijras, has evidence of a link between the castration wish and a desire to be female that Bose posited as occurring in the pre-Oedipal stage. In this phase the “Oedipus mother” has a powerful role, as seen in Aravan’s multiple mother figures (Ulupi, Draupadi, Kali). Hiltebeitel concludes that Bose’s theory explains these Indian cults which Freud’s does not.

Examining Freud’s work on Moses and on Jokes, Hiltebeitel links the discussion to the tales of gleaners in MB, claiming that the epic was the composition of “a committee of ‘out of sorts Brahmins’” (hence the extolling of gleaners) in the 2nd century BCE in Kurukshetra. Vyasa’s stink and disagreeable appearance makes him “the consummate out-of-sorts Brahmin.” This period of second urbanization (600-300 BCE) saw the rise of towns vis-à-vis forest life. Gleaners in the Naimisheya grove near Kurukshetra complete a twelve-year yajna during which, because of the numerous rishis, the tirthas got urbanized (“tirthani nagarayante”). Hiltebeitel imagines them traumatized by foreign invasions (hence the prominence of the north-west in MB) and the challenge of heterodox movements backed by royal patronage (Chandragupta and Jainism, Bimbisara and Ajivikas, Ashoka and Buddhism). He argues that they “projected features of current second-or first-century urban architecture back into” the Vedic world whose memories lay in their subconscious. They developed the Rig Veda’s ten mandalas (16th to 11th century BCE) into the ritualistic three other Vedas (11th to 9th century BCE) and then their branches (8th to 3rd century BCE) climaxing in the encyclopaedic MB in the fourth stage in the 2nd century BCE. The references in MB to Greeks, Chinese and Shakas, but not the Pahlavas or Kushanas, indicates a completion of composition before the end of the pre-Common Era, by the late Shunga or Kanva times. Support is found in the MB’s reference to the land being dotted with “edukas” (Buddhist mounds of relics). In the Book of the Forest, one Shaunaka discourses to the Pandavas on the Buddhist eight-fold path; a butcher speaks the Jain version of ahimsa and in the Shanti Parva Bali lays out the Jain doctrine of six “leshyas” (colours) of matter.

Seeking to find correspondences in MB with Freud’s theory about jokes, Hiltebeitel makes a laboured argument that Vyasa’s levirate episode with Ambika and Ambalika contains an innuendo: the two “mahishis” (chief queens/female buffaloes) unite with the smelly, unkempt Vyasa in the role of the horse of the ashvamedha rite. In the “Narayaniya” narrative Vyasa reveals that he is born of Harimedhas, the essence of the Horse-headed avatar. The year-long vow Vyasa wanted them to observe parallels the horse-sacrifice’s prescription of abstinence for a year. By rejecting this, Satyavati renders the queens impure for the rite. Hiltebeitel hazards a bad joke of his own: “Vyasa’s shaggy-dog story has turned out to be a shaggy-horse or a talking-horse story.”

A very rewarding read is Hiltebeitel’s analysis of the narrative structure of the “Narayaniya” identifying how the dialogue level shifts thrice from the inner frame (Janamejaya querying Vaishampayana, within which Vyasa speaks to the former too across six generations) to the outermost (Vyasa discoursing to his five pupils) through the outer frame (Rishi Shaunaka querying Ugrashravas Sauti) via the intermediate dialogues (Yudhishthira querying Bhishma). Ultimately, Hiltebeitel sees the MB as “the recovered memory” of a Vedic past replete with “partially unconscious and forgotten meanings about that past”. —Pradip Bhattacharya

WHEN THE EIGHT VAJRAS ASSEMBLED

By

KRISHNA AGAINST THE KURU-PAANDAVS

THE APOCRYPHAL DANDI PARVA OF THE MAHABHARATA

Introduction

The core story of the Mahabharata is well-known: how Krishna helps the five Paandav brothers (three Parths and the twin Maadreyas), sons-and-stepsons of his paternal aunt Pritha-Kunti, win the kingdom of Hastinapur with their seven armies from the eleven armies of Duryodhan and his ninety-nine brothers on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. However, little known is the tale of the sons of Dhritarashtra and Pandu, allied with Jaraasandh of Magadh and Shishupal of Chedi, jointly opposing Krishna and the Yaadavs in battle. It is this tale that formed the matter of Paandav Gaurav (1900), a five-act play in Bengali by Girish Chandra Ghosh, the founder of Bengali theatre, that was a runaway hit on the Calcutta stage. What was his source?

The version of the Mahabharata that we know is what Vaishampaayan recited to Raja Janamejay at Taxila at the bidding of his guru Krishna Dvaipaayan Vyas during intervals of the holocaust of snakes the king had organised to avenge his father Parikshit’s assassination by Takshak naga. Heard there by the bard Ugrashravas Sauti, it was recited by him to Rishi Shaunak and his group of ascetics in the ashram at Naimish forest during intervals of their twelve-year-long yajna. Besides this version, there is another by another of Vyas’ pupils, Jaimini, of which only a few parvas are extant. From his Ashvamedha Parva Girish Ghosh took the very unusual story of Queen Jvaalaa and wrote a successful play on her named Janaa (1894).

Moreover, there is an apocryphal text entitled Mahabharata: Dandi Parva attributed to Krishna Dvaipaayan Vyas narrating, inter alia, the startling story of how the Paandavs and the Kauravs jointly opposed Krishna in battle, which provided Girish Ghosh the material for his play. This rare Sanskrit text was translated into Bengali by Pandit Kaliprasanna Vidyaratna and published in 1900 (reprinted in 1987 by Nabapatra Prakashan, Calcutta). Dinesh Chandra Sen states in his Bangabhasha O Sahitya (pp. 424, 427) that he found a translation in Bengali poetry by Rajaram Datta, containing 1500 verses, the manuscript of which written by Ramprasad Dey is dated to 1809 CE. However, the introduction states that it was composed by (or at the behest of) Nrisimha Das son of Ramkanai Das in the “poyar” metre of 14 letters after studying the Brihat Kurma Purana. This Purana consists of four samhitas: Brahmi, Bhagavati, Sauri and Vaishnavi, of which the Brahmi Samhita is also known as the Kurma Purana. Besides the story of Raja Dandi and Urvashi, it contains the curious tale of Shrivatsa narrated by Krishna to Yudhishthira to console him during the forest-exile. Apparently, Girish Ghosh’s source was a poetic composition called “Dandi Parva” (1870) by Umakanta Chattopadhyay in which the narrator is Shukadeva Goswami, Vyas’s son. Prior to that Rohininandan Sarkar’s “Dandiparva by Maharshi Vedavyasa” had come out in 1885 and in 1886 Prankrishna Ghosh had written “Dandi-charit-ba- Urvashir-Abhishap” (Dandi’s Deeds or Urvashi’s Curse).

What distinguishes this work from the Mahabharata is the excessive overlay of Vaishnava bhakti and unnecessary excursions into didactic peroration at the slightest opportunity, indicating its composition in late medieval times. Further, the stereotype of women as foolish, incapable of taking sound decisions by themselves without the guidance of father, husband or son is repeated often, except in the case of Rukmini, possibly because she is Krishna’s consort.

Parikshit’s Birth and Curse

Rishi Shaunak exhorts the wandering rhapsode Sauti, praising him for his Vaishnava-bhakti, to narrate the story of Bhagwan to enable the audience to achieve salvation in the context of the impending dreadful Kali Yuga and enquires why Raja Parikshit, born into the blessed Paandav family, committed sin.

Sauti then narrates that in his earlier birth Parikshit was a Gandharva named Vidyadhar who used to sing daily in Indra’s celestial court and, waxing proud of his melodious voice, his intellect was overcast by pride. In the season of spring youthful Vidyadhar was overcome with desire for his young wife. Drunk with liquor, both entered the Nandan garden, whose enchanting environs aggravated his loss of self-control and he began singing lewd songs loudly. This disturbed the blessed rishi Parvat who was seated there speaking to his disciples on salvation. Parvat, approaching the Gandharva, requested him to be restrained and not disturb the peace. Vidyadhar insolently told him that this garden was suitable for enjoyment by him and his companions, servitors of Lord Indra, not for ascetics. If they felt disturbed, they should leave the place. Parvat again warned him that being drunk he was misbehaving, but Vidyadhar boasted he was accountable only to Indra and did not care about anyone else’s anger. Urged by his disciples to discipline the arrogant singer, Parvat cursed Vidyadhar that as punishment for the insult he would take human birth and be consumed by a Brahman’s curse. Overwhelmed with depression and terror, Vidyadhar begged to be spared human birth, that most miserable of all existences. His women also pleaded with the sage for mercy, but Parvat was adamant on cleansing Svarga of the pollution caused by Vidyadhar’s ill-conduct. However, he told him that he would be born in the supremely pure and renowned Paandav family and regain his station after his sins had been burnt away. Indra did not intervene. Thus Vidyadhar was reborn as Parikshit. Yudhishthir gave him this name because he was born when the Paandav dynasty was almost extinguished. Unlike the Mahabharata, which knows of no previous birth of Parikshit, here there is no reference to his being still-born and the resurrection by Krishna.

Parikshit was anointed Crown-Prince by Krishna himself and imparted advice regarding governance by Dhaumya, the family priest of the Paandavs, and Naarad. The sage Kanva advised regarding discarding desire and keeping good company. Sage Lompad advised on moksha-dharma. Vibhanda described the horrors of hundreds of hells and the nature of the Brahman. Krishaashva discoursed on the four classes, the four stages of life and the primacy of domestic life in sustaining the rest. Sage Deval spoke on the dharma of donating, celebrating ahimsa as the supreme dharma and on abstaining from liquor and indulgence in coition, as these were sources of delusion.

Despite all this, after ruling well for years, because of the rishi’s curse Parikshit went to hunt in a forest where the ascetic Shamik lived. Causing havoc among animals, he shot a deer which fled. Giving chase, Parikshit got exhausted, parched and sought for water from the monk who was observing a vow of silence, seated in ascesis. Distracted by hunger and thirst, enraged at the silence, Parikshit insulted the monk by draping a dead snake round his neck. Shamik’s son Shringi infuriated by this cursed that the culprit would die of snake-bite within a week. Shamik rebuked his son for cursing the raja and despatched a disciple to warn the king.

Overwhelmed, Parikshit went to the banks of the Bhagirathi and pleaded with sages to rescue him. Vyas also arrived and told him that instead of punishment, cleansing the character was more important. As he himself did not have the time, he deputed his son Shuka for the purpose. (This setting copies that of the Bhaagavat Purana and there are echoes of the Pururavas-Urvashi myth in the tale.) Parikshit begged the sage to tell the tale of why Bhagwan Vaasudev (Krishna) had opposed his favourite Paandavs in battle. Then Shuka recounted the holy tale of Raja Dandi to him.

Urvashi cursed by Durvasa

Once, after spending a thousand years in ascesis, the rishi Durvasa began roaming the world to satisfy his senses but was not satisfied. Then he proceeded to the abode of the immortals and was delighted to see its unique splendour. Seated alongside the devas in their court named Sudharma, he passed much time. To entertain him, Indra summoned the loveliest of apsaras Urvashi and bade her delight the sage with her dance. Urvashi, repelled by the body-odour, matted hair and dirty appearance, doubted his capacity to appreciate her skills. Durvasa immediately made out from her facial expression what she was thinking and roared aloud that sin must never be tolerated. Hence, as she had thought he was beastly, she would fall from Svarga to earth and be born as a mare to expiate her sin. Urvashi and all the devas begged the sage to set a limit to her suffering, whereupon warning her never to be proud again, he said that on earth she would live in the kingdom of Raja Dandi of Avanti and return when the curse was spent. Remaining a mare during the day, she would become a divinely lovely woman at night.

Thus Urvashi descended as a mare in a lovely wood in the wonderful kingdom of Avanti (in Central India) where everyone was good, festivals were held and no dangers existed. Raja Dandi was an excellent ruler, touring everywhere to supervise his subjects’ welfare. Once, when in distress because of her state the mare was running hither and thither, scaring the animals, Dandi arrived to hunt. He came upon the splendid mare in the company of some deer and ordered his troops to capture her. Leaving them all behind, Urvashi sped off deep into the forest. Pursuing her, Dandi was exhausted. Out of pity Urvashi spoke to him, enquiring who he was. Dandi was enchanted and declared his identity. Urvashi recalled Durvasa’s prophecy and lamented her state. By this time the sun had set and, losing the form of a mare, Urvashi became a captivating woman, stunning Dandi. She explained the entire matter to him. Dandi begged her to become his and assured to keep her hidden from all eyes. Urvashi agreed on condition that he vowed never to abandon her. Dandi promised immediately. Spending the night with her, Dandi took her back in the form of a mare to his capital and kept her in a secret place away from all eyes. Day and night he spent with her, neglecting all duties. Dandi was obsessed with the mare who became his sole concern, grooming and feeding her with his own hands all day long. Subjects and ministers had no access to him. At night when she became an enchanting woman, Dandi would devote himself to pleasing her as best as he could, regardless of his diminishing fame. His intelligence waned, his spirit dulled. Devi Lakshmi decided to abandon him and he became incapable of protecting his kingdom. The subjects began to suffer from sickness, untimely death and various sorrows, afflicted by robbers. Teenage widows and beggars began to abound.

The splendour of Svarga waned as well. Indra felt the absence of Urvashi acutely and was apprehensive of her having to face great suffering. Therefore, he summoned the celestial rishi Naarad and requested his intervention. Naarad assured him that the time was near for Urvashi’s curse to be lifted. Eager to have darshan of Shri Hari (Krishna), he proceeded to that very unholy place, earth. Naarad went to Dwarka, that city of unrivalled splendour because of Shri Hari’s presence and waited at the entrance for permission to enter, having due regard to royal protocol. Already aware of his impending arrival, Shri Hari had sent a guard to usher in the sage to where he was seated with Devi Rukmini. Crossing the apartments of 16,000 women, Naarad arrived where Shri Hari was seated. Greeting all the children, the aged and the women, Naarad found that wherever he looked in the inner apartments he saw Shri Hari present. Bewildered, when he willed to see Shri Hari at one spot, he found him seated before him with all his women, welcoming him. Having embraced him, Shri Hari enquired after his welfare, whereupon Naarad begged him to remove the curse from Urvashi and left.

Shri Hari despatched an envoy to Raja Dandi with this message: “O ruler of Avanti! The magical mare you have obtained and enjoyed in secret for so long, despatch it forthwith to me in Dwarka city. Do not do otherwise!” Hearing this, the king flared up with rage and shouted, “Get out! I do not know your master. If you tarry even a moment here, mighty Dandi’s deadly rod will split your body into pieces like Indra’s vajra or Shiva’s trident.” The envoy left immediately and reported everything to his master.

Krishna mused for a while that nothing of significance ought to be done in a hurry. So he summoned his intimate companion Uddhav and asked him to proceed to the city of Avanti. Crossing many lands, Uddhav reached Avanti soon and called on Dandi. Uddhav urged him not to dispute with Krishna who was the supreme divinity and to hand over the splendid mare to avert disaster. Dandi felt dizzy, bewildered, unable to decide what to do. Then to deceive Uddhav he said, “Why should I unnecessarily quarrel with Vaasudev to whom I pay tribute? If I had the mare I would definitely have handed it over. Someone has mistakenly informed you that I have found a mare. I am lucky that hearing that news you have set foot in my kingdom. If you do not believe me, please visit my palace and see for yourself.” Laughing, Uddhav said that he was not deceived by the king’s lies and that Dandi was only inviting misfortune thereby. “Alas, O king! Your intelligence is lost because of a petty thing,” said Uddhav taking leave.

Deeply disturbed, Dandi began to lament. Seeing his distracted condition, his queen urged him to concentrate on saving himself. Dandi argued that keeping his word to the mare was more sacred than obeying Krishna. Further, it was destiny that had made his mind thus obsessed, so there was no way out for him but to flee for saving his life as Krishna was sure to launch an attack after hearing of his refusal from the envoy.

Ardently embracing and kissing the mare, he exited the city in secret on her back, all alone. He roamed one land after another, from town to town, village to village like a madman, without any goal in mind. Gradually he came to his senses and decided he needed to seek for some way out of the predicament. First he approached the sea and prayed to it, but the sea declined as its glory was all Vaasudev’s doing and he could not protect Dandi against the Lord.

Then, one after another, Dandi approached Krishna’s foes: Shishupal lord of Chedi and mighty Jaraasandh of Magadh from whom Krishna had fled to Dwarka. Both turned him down, one because of Krishna’s invincible discus and as he was kin, the other as he considered it beneath his dignity to fight such a petty person.

Depressed and disappointed, Dandi decided not to approach any human being as men were incapable of protecting. Therefore, he presented himself before the lord of mountains, Himgiri and sought refuge with him. Acknowledging his right to be granted refuge, the Himalayas expressed its inability to protect him against the omnipotent one and advised him to seek shelter with Shri Krishna immediately.

His intelligence overcast, Dandi rejected the advice as venomous and abusing the lord of mountains proceeded to meet Duryodhan who said that he neither wished nor was able to oppose invincible Krishna. He advised Dandi to hand over the mare to Krishna and be free from danger.

Dandi then considered approaching the supremely righteous Yudhishthir who was celebrated as the support of the helpless. “But being an intimate of Krishna’s, if he asked Dandi to surrender the mare, what then? So long as he was alive, he could not give up the mare. It did not befit a man to break his given word.” He was unable to decide what to do and kept lamenting.

***

The Tale of Shrivatsa

“This is what happens,” said Shuka, “when the planets are unfavourable. Because of that Raja Shrivatsa had to live among the lowly born with his wife like an orphan.” Parikshit then begged him to narrate this tale of Shrivatsa that was unknown to him. Shuka told him that during the period of exile in the forest, Yudhishthira was deeply depressed. That is when Krishna came to him and narrated the story of Shrivatsa to console him. First, at Parikshit’s request, after narrating the lineage of Parikshit, starting from Daksha Prajaapati’s 50 daughters from 13 of whom rishi Kashyap produced humans and others, Shuka narrated the deeds of the Paandavs in brief till the forest-exile. 

Shri Krishna told Yudhishthir that in the past noble Citrarath was installed as emperor of the earth. Shrivatsa was his only son, a store of all qualities. He was a king during whose rule the happiness of subjects was boundless. Constantly all of them sincerely prayed for the king’s long life and welfare. His chief queen was Citrasen’s daughter Cinta, unrivalled in devotion to her husband and in beauty.

Once in the abode of the gods Lakshmi Devi said to Shanaishcar, “Look, I am the chief in the universe because everyone in the three worlds desires me. Can you say that even by mistake someone takes your name? Your sight, even your shadow, is the cause of all types of misfortune in the world.” Shani was enraged at Lakshmi’s words and said, “If I am not supreme among all and more honoured than you, then why should the three worlds shiver fearing me? You will be a laughing stock by claiming you are the best.”

To settle the dispute, both appeared before Raja Shrivatsa as he was preparing to bathe. Startled and wonder-struck, he greeted them humbly and enquired why they had come. Shani explained the entire matter. Bewildered, the king kept silent for a while. Begging time for a day, he requested them to appear in the court the next day when he would present an answer to the best of his abilities. Blessing him, the gods left.

Thinking and consulting all day long with his ministers and others, Shrivatsa decided not to say anything. In the court two seats were placed: one of gold, another of silver. The golden one was kept to the right of the royal throne and the silver seat to its left. The two gods entered and Lakshmi promptly sat on the golden seat, while Shani sat on the silver one. After a while, Shani asked the king to indicate who was the superior of the two. Softly and humbly Shrivatsa said that how could he as a mere human decide about gods. They themselves had decided their relative greatness. Enraged, biting his lips and red eyes Shani declared that as he had ruined Raja Nala, so would he deprive Shrivatsa of kingdom, happiness and wife. Lakshmi was delighted and left, blessing the king.

Day after day, month after month passed as Shani kept searching for a misstep on Shrivatsa’s part. Once, after bathing the king sat on the throne while the washed off water had not been wiped away. Suddenly a black dog appeared and lapped up that water. The shastras state that water washed off the body if fallen on the ground must immediately be removed, never touched. Moreover if polluted creatures like dogs touch it, the bathed person becomes unclean and loses prosperity. Therefore, the instant Shani spotted this flaw, he saw the right moment had arrived and gleefully entered the king’s body.

By and by the kingdom was overshadowed by ill omens: sudden outbreaks of fire, meteor showers, cloud-less lightning strikes and bloody rainfall at some places; somewhere drought, elsewhere floods. Blights of locusts, insects, rats, birds destroyed crops. By Shani’s wrath, Raja Shrivatsa’s prosperity gradually dwindled away. Wailing and lamentation arose everywhere as lawlessness prevailed. Subjects rebelled against the king. Finding no way out, at the dead of night Shrivatsa fled the land with his wife on foot. Covering a long distance, Shrivatsa and his queen arrived at an enchanting wood whose beauty enraptured them. There they saw a fisherman and, suffering from hunger and thirst, begged him for a single fish. Seeing their divine appearance, the fisherman was stunned. Considering them as divinities in disguise, he gave them some fine fish and pranam-ing them left.

Shrivatsa asked his wife not to spurn the fish begged for as this was their only means of sustenance at present. He told her to roast them for eating. After all, he said, in the past the royal rishi Vishvamitra had begged dog-meat from an untouchable to satisfy his hunger. The queen immediately lit a fire by rubbing dry sticks together and roasted the fish. Sadly she went to wash off the burnt parts in the lake, but when she dipped them in the water, they swam away! As she related the misfortune to the king and he burst out laughing, a skyey voice was heard, “Maharaj! Publicly you demeaned me by giving me an inferior seat in front of everyone and enhanced Lakshmi’s glory by giving her a golden seat. Where is she now? O Shrivatsa! As a judge you had displayed bias and now you suffer its just consequences.” Saying this, invisible Shani vanished.

Amazed, the raja told his beloved wife that it was because of his ill fortune that the roasted fish had swum away and she should not weep, for she was not at fault. Shani was not content having deprived him of kingdom and prosperity and making him a forest-dweller. Shrivatsa pledged that as long as he lived he would never abandon the way of dharma and resort to evil. Plucking fruit from trees and with water from the stream they assuaged their hunger and thirst. With grass and creepers they made a hut at the base of a tree and rested therein. Thus they passed the days.

Finding that fruits were becoming scarce, Raja Shrivatsa left that wood and went to a small village nearby where many woodcutters lived. Impressed by his demeanour, they gave him shelter and honoured his wife. Daily he would go into the forest with them to collect wood and thus eked out a livelihood. The river Kaushiki flowed by that village and once a merchant arrived carrying his goods on a barge which suddenly came to a stop. Shanideva, assuming the form of an old Jain mendicant approached him and said, “Sir, by astrology I am aware of the cause of your boat stopping. When you left home, your wife was busy arranging puja of the nine planets. As you left ignoring that, this crisis has occurred. No worries, however! I will give you the way out. In this village of woodcutters there is a chaste wife. If she touches your boat, it will immediately move as before.”

The merchant went to the village and stated his predicament. The woodcutters agreed and sent their wives to touch the boat. Queen Cinta went too. One by one the women touched the boat but it did not move. Finally when Queen Cinta touched it, it immediately began to flow with the current. Amazed, the wicked merchant thought that such a woman was rare indeed and having her with him would be best. He dragged Cinta aboard his boat. Chinta wailed aloud to no avail. The merchant’s boat vanished along the Kaushiki.

Meanwhile Shrivatsa had returned to his hut and on hearing the entire matter fell senseless. Regaining his senses after a while he ran out of the hut like a madman to the riverbank and without stopping to eat, or drink, or rest, proceeded southwards. Crossing many places, towns, habitations, hills, woods and wildernesses the king reached a splendid grove. As he rested under a huge tree, suddenly the immortal cow Surabhi arrived there and, surprised to see a human being, asked him who he was. Shrivatsa told her everything. Reassuring him, Surabhi asked him to stay in her ashram there as by divine foresight she knew that soon his queen and his lost royal glory would be restored to him.

Shrivatsa obediently stayed there. From the mud from the froth of the milk falling on the ground as Surabhi’s calf Nandini suckled her mother he began making clay bricks. Because of that divine milk the brick turned into gold. Amazed, the king devoted himself to making more and more bricks daily.

One day when he was standing on the bank of the Kaushiki musing on his state a trading vessel arrived. Seeing it, Shrivatsa decided that by taking all the gold bricks elsewhere he could earn a lot by selling them and also seek out his queen. The cunning merchant immediately agreed to his proposal and took Shrivatsa with him on the vessel. After a while the vessel reached the sea and the merchant decided to take all the gold for himself. So he threw Shrivatsa into the sea. It was this same trader who had abducted Cinta and kept her in a room in the vessel. Hearing Shrivatsa outcries, she flung a plank into the waters. Floating on that plank, Shrivatsa landed in the town of Sautipur where a garland-maker named Rambhaabati lived. In rags Shrivatsa arrived at her home and said that while sailing his ship had sunk and he begged shelter from her. Rambhaabati said, “Oh, on seeing you I am reminded of my dead nephew! My heart brims over with affection for you. I will look after you as best as I can. You stay with me.” Shrivatsa, keeping his identity secret, stayed in her home.

Baahudev, the ruler of Sautipur, had only one daughter, fifteen year old Bhadraa who used to pray to Devi Bhagavati daily wanting Shrivatsa for her husband. The day he arrived in that town, Bhagavati appeared before her and said that the one she had been desiring as husband had reached that kingdom and was living in the garland-maker’s home. In a bridegroom-choice ceremony she could garland him herself. The ceremony was announced and Shrivatsa wanting to witness it stood under a tall kadamba tree at one end of the palace. Stunning all assembled royal suitors, the princess garlanded this poorly clad stranger. Raja Baahudev in shame retreated indoors and all the invitees stormed out. The queen could not abandon her daughter and arranged for her and the son-in-law to stay in a building. The king appointed Shrivatsa as tax-collector on the banks of the river from all craft sailing by.

The period of Shani’s evil-eye is twelve years. As this passed, Shrivatsa’s depression ebbed and he found the world delightful again. On a summer noon Shrivatsa was seated on the river-bank when a merchant craft arrived and he recognised the wicked trader who had thrown him into the sea. He seized the ship and had all the gold bricks retrieved, imprisoning the merchant. Hearing this, the king arrived at the spot and found Shrivatsa’s appearance totally changed. He was glowing with beauty and health as Shani’s influence had passed. Shrivatsa declared his identity and past history. Baahudev immediately rescued Cinta from the ship and sentenced the trader to jail for his crimes.

Goddess Lakshmi appeared in the firmament and addressed Baahudev: “O king! Fortunately lovely Bhadraa has been born to you and you have obtained Raja Shrivatsa as son-in-law and been able to have darshan of me. Now go and pass the time happily with daughter and son-in-law.” Saying this, the goddess vanished. Shanaishcar appeared before Shrivatsa and said, “Raja, overcome by anger I have inflicted much suffering upon you. Do not bewail recalling all that. This is the way of the world. Be that as it may, I am granting you a boon that whosoever listens full of bhakti to this holy tale of yours, that person will never suffer from my evil eye.” Shani vanished saying this. All rejoiced and after a while Shrivatsa returned to his kingdom with the permission of Baahudev. By the grace of Lakshmi drought, famine and epidemics all disappeared from his kingdom.

Krishna told Yudhishthir that joy and sorrow were cyclical phenomena in life and like Shrivatsa he should be patient, bear happiness and grief staying on the path of dharma. In time surely the sun of happiness would rise and flood his heart with the waters of joy.

Suta told the group of ascetics that this holy tale of Shrivatsa had first been related to Vishnu by Devi Lakshmi. The Lord of Vaikuntha had recounted it to Indra, he to thousand-headed Ananta and the great sage Durvasa. From Ananta it was spread in the netherworld and by Durvasa among humankind. At the end of Dvapar Yuga, Krishna narrated it to Janamejay’s great grand-uncle Yudhishthir.

***

Parikshit lamented before Shuka that he had dearly hoped to listen to the salvific Bharata Samhita that cleansed all sins, but that was not to be and he was doomed to perdition. Shuka assured him that having heard even parts of Vyas’ Bharata he would gain all the benefits of listening to all of it, as Vyas had declared to him. Rishi Kapil reassured him too and declared that in future his son Janamejay would also be purified of his sins of Brahmin-hatred and incomplete snake-sacrifice by listening to the entire Bharata Samhita from Vaishampaayan at the behest of Vyas.

Shukadeva resumed the tale of Dandi. The Avanti ruler was bewildered. Seeing him weeping and lamenting like a child, not knowing what to do the mare spoke to him in human speech, “Master, why weep thus? It is women who weep and lament in danger. Control yourself and think what should be done. It is not proper for the intelligent to waste time in vain. I had warned you earlier but blinded by arrogance you did not pay heed. Now you will definitely have to suffer the consequences of your actions. O Raja! My state is like yours. I will never be able to live without you, nor do I wish to. It is not possible to bear the suffering of this sinful mortal world. Alas, what misery has the maha-ascetic, wrathful Durvasa wrought upon me! He pitied me not—orphaned, helpless and weak. A dweller of Svarga I have to suffer torture in the mortal world. What need have I to live? Therefore, raja, see where the Bhagirathi flows fast! Let us surrender our lives to her and put an end to all suffering. I see no alternative to this. By the grace of this heavenly river so many great sinners have attained supreme salvation.”

***

The Tale of Harisharma

The mare then recounted to Dandi a marvel she had witnessed once when returning from the abode of the moon in the morning, passing over the river Mandakini. She saw a hawk carrying a baby bird in its beak. The chick fell from its beak into the sacred river and at once was transformed into a divine form who was taken by envoys of Vishnu on a celestial aircraft to Vaikuntha. Therefore, the mare urged, the two of them should also put an end to their suffering and attain salvation in the same manner, although committing suicide was a grave sin and she might have to undergo unbearable pain like the Brahman Harisharma.

Dandi begged the mare to recount what had happened to Harisharma. The mare said that in the past a Brahman Dvijahari used to live in the town of Karnaat. He tried his best to educate his son Harisharma but the boy got addicted to wickedness and after his parents’ death lived by robbing others. Inevitably the king of Karnaat exiled him. Roaming many lands Harisharma became thin and weak from suffering. Unable to bear this any further, he committed suicide by leaping into a pond. Because of that sin he had to live on a silk-cotton tree for a long time as a Brahman-demon. Therefore, said the mare, they might also suffer a fate like Harisharma, but was determined to die as no other way was visible.

***

Agreeing to her proposal, Dandi prayed to Ganga and with his beloved mare stepped into the river. Both of them bathed in its waters and wishing to die stepped into the river up to their necks. Both banks of the river got crowded with curious onlookers. In the firmament celestial beings gathered to watch. At that time Vaasudev’s beloved sister, Arjun’s beloved wife, Subhadraa fatefully arrived to bathe. Moved to compassion by the sight, she enquired from Dandi and, having heard everything, without hesitation said, “O Raja! Discard all fear! Even at the cost of my life I will save you. Abandon your decision to commit suicide and come with me. I am of your opposing side, Vaasudev’s sister, Subhadraa by name. You might not trust me, being of your opponent’s camp, but recall the example of Vibhishan. Just belonging to the enemy’s camp does not make one untrustworthy and worthless.”

Hearing this, Dandi’s heart was soothed somewhat. Giving up the decision to die he followed Subhadraa who brought them with all respect to her home and provided shelter. For his protection she approached Dhananjay. Hearing everything Parth was thunderstruck and, smarting like one whipped, full of rage said excitedly, “What is this terrible deed you have done! Maha-mighty Shri Krishna to punish Dandi, having consulted me, has despatched hundreds of messengers to every land, town, village to seek him out. Know that I too am one of them. Shame on so independent a wife as you! Go, do not hope for any favour from me!”

Silently Subhadraa left and went to Vrikodar and humbly recounting everything begged him to say whether the Avanti king would be given refuge or not. Bheem said, “Do you not know that Vaasudev is like our very soul? Therefore, only after telling us should you have offered shelter to Dandi. You belong to a weak sex, unaware of consequences. That is why in this case you have displayed independence and acted wrongly. Woman’s duty is to act after taking the husband’s permission, or in his absence that of father or son. Be that as it may, breaking a promise is counted as a grievous sin. I do not wish to incur that great sin. My nature is to keep my promise. That is why Shri Krishna loves me so much. Therefore, he will surely love me for this work too. Therefore, Raja Dandi hereby receives refuge. Be at peace and return to your quarters! I am warning you never to behave in future in this foolish, rash manner. Inform Arjun of my words.”

Summoning Dandi, mighty Bheemsen addressed him respectfully: “O king, I trust you are well? I am meeting you after a long while. Be that as it may, regarding this as your own home stay here without any doubt.” Reassured by Vrikodar’s words, Dandi replied humbly, “Great Sir! It is not novel, surprising or astonishing that generous-hearted mahatmas like you should behave frankly like close relatives. I pray to God that people may face such intimacy in birth after birth and gain such holy company. Interacting with sadhus like you is a prime happiness of this world. Therefore, today I have obtained incomparable store of happiness.”

At such time Yudhishthir’s messenger arrived and with joined palms submitted to Bheem, “O valiant one, it is the Lord’s command to be present before him at once!” Mighty Bheem arose immediately and reassuring the Avanti Raja and asking him to remain there went to Yudhishthir. He saw the loving mother Kunti seated with her four sons like the Mother of the Vedas with Rig, Sama, Yajur and Atharva, or Shanti Devi herself with Dharma, Artha, Kama and Moksha. Maha-intelligent Vrikodar appeared among them like Ananda (bliss) embodied. In the Kuru clan the five brothers and Kunti were like the five senses and Prakriti. The five brothers were separate merely in body but one in heart, mind and soul. Having greeted them and being greeted in return, Bheemsen sat and awaited Yudhishthir’s commands, knowing that it must be about Raja Dandi.

Kunti said to Vrikodar, “Before taking action, whether good or bad, one must examine its pros and cons. Without such examination one should not take any decision suddenly—even if good—whereby in future one might repent or suffer remorse. You have not done well by granting refuge to Dandi. Subhadraa is a woman and giving a promise at a woman’s word without considering does not befit a man. It is well known that woman’s intelligence causes chaos. It is true that to protect refugees is Kshatriya dharma. It is true indeed that keeping a promise is the supreme dharma of every person. However, it is also supreme dharma to act upon all this after due consideration. Specially, one who is an intimate friend and support, always a well-wisher, ever our refuge and the only salvation, who is dearer than the soul itself, to maintain loving relationship with him is the supreme dharma. Such is Shri Krishna for us. How often you have advised others in similar fashion. Then today why did you act contrary to that? Are you deluded as sometimes even rishis are? That is why I am giving you advice. Therefore, I advise you to discard Dandi, or surrender the mare to Krishna. Otherwise there will be great destruction, there is no doubt. You are highly intelligent, so do not engage in dispute with one’s own. It is well known that Lanka’s ruler Dashaanan was destroyed with his clan by quarrelling with his intimate well-wisher Vibhishan. I pray to God that because of your error we do not fall in similar danger.”

Maha-intelligent Vrikodar replied in sweet words to his mother, bowing his head to her advice, but begged her to hear why he had granted refuge to Dandi lest, like the guru of the celestials, she face embarrassment on speaking without knowing the reasons. “The shastras prescribe,” said he, “that a promise must be kept; not to do so is death. Even imperilling one’s own life another must be helped. None as pure and wise as Shri Krishna exists and he would never consent to my abandoning a refugee. Moreover, he is dearer to us than life itself and so are we to him. People truly say that between the Paandavs and Yaadavs there is no difference. Therefore, when he is willing to even give up his life for us, then it is not strange that he should give up a mere mare for us. I also believe that Subhadraa is supremely blessed and much loved by Krishna. Definitely her word will be honoured. Considering all this, whether I can grant shelter to Dandi without waiting for you all or not, you command.”

The son of Dharma said, “Brother, what you said is true. However, in view of the type of relationship we have with Vaasudev, by not give up the mare the Avanti Raja seems to have acted against us—this is what we should realise. So far as I know, no error or delusion exists in the lord of Yadus definitely. In such conditions, it is impossible to consider King Dandi as wholly free from fault.”

Maha-intelligent Vrikodar said, “Dharmaraj! Well, I accept that by acting against Vaasudev the Avanti king has also acted against us, for between Vaasudev and Paandavs there is no distinction. But it should also be considered that when Dandi took refuge with us he also took refuge with Vaasudev. To forgive the offender is the true expiation of his sin. Should he again come to seek shelter, he is fit to be forgiven a hundred times. This is the quality of the best of men like Shri Krishna and his view too. To tell you that is unnecessary. Considering everything from the beginning to the end in this manner, I have granted Dandi refuge.”

Dharmaraj said, “Brother, you have done well. But consider whether before granting refuge to Dandi was it not proper to seek his opinion in person or by sending someone to Shri Krishna when he is capable of comprehending everything about us? At least we should have been consulted. One should act thinking through the consequences. You are intelligent, wise, aware of policy and know the shastras. To say more to you is needless.”

In the meantime Shri Krishna and Rukmini’s son Kama-deva (Pradyumna) arrived as commanded by his father. He looked just as enchanting as his father, winning all hearts. Delighted, Kunti stood up and embraced Madan, shedding tears. Anxiously she enquired after the welfare of her sole relatives, specially Vaasudev. The Paandavs also enquired similarly after greeting him warmly. Responded appropriately, Rukmini’s son down.

Yudhishthir then said to him, “Despite being aware that between Vaasudev and us there is no distinction, Dandi the ruler of Avanti has taken refuge with us and blessed Subhadraa knowing everything has given him her word of protection. Although all this has occurred without our knowledge, it is duty to protect the refugee. Therefore, we have not stopped Vrikodar in this matter. Moreover, we know that even if we commit a thousand offences knowingly, Paandav-loving Bhagwan lord of Yaadavs will surely pardon us. Considering all this, we have decided to go to Dwarka in person to tell Shri Krishna. It is good that you have arrived at that very juncture. Now act as you consider proper.”

Rukmini’s son replied addressing Kunti, “Today I have not come as a close relative or friend. Today a great burden has been laid upon me which I did not wish to carry here, but I have had to. I have been unable to bring anything dear to you, as my mother did not agree, although father had given many things for each of you. I do not have permission to tarry even a moment. Hear the reason why. By acting illegally, Dandi, Avanti’s raja, has offended my father Vaasudev. Father is firmly pledged to punish him properly, which you are not unaware of. All of you have also agreed to this. Despite that the middle Paandav gave his word to protect the Avanti lord—is this proper policy, rightful, sanctioned by dharma or even logical? Be that as it may, if you wish so much to protect Dandi, then at least on the basis of intimate relations, at first even through a messenger this should somehow have been intimated to my father. Lord of Yaadavs Vaasudev would surely have forgiven Raja Avanti because of the sincere relationship, friendship and heartfelt love that exist with you even if you had violated its norms. To behave knowingly otherwise harms the friendship, that is not unknown to you. Be that as it may, all this is irrelevant now. My father Vaasudev’s core message is this: he has declared war against you, therefore get prepared for battle quickly. The moment I return to Dwarka the Yaadav army will attack you like a stormy sea undoubtedly. We have tried to plead with him in many ways, but in Vaasudev’s view breaking a pledge is maha-sin. Thus both sides are committed to honour their promises. There is no easy way out but war. Therefore, now do as you consider proper.”

Having said this, Rukmini’s son Kamadeva did not wait for a reply. He stood up at once and left the hall to return immediately to Dwarka as ordered by his father, not even waiting to take formal leave. Seeing him leave like a stranger, Kunti and the Paandavs became depressed like a lotus at the onset of winter, just as they had bloomed joyously at his sun-like arrival. None uttered a word for some time, unable to decide what should be done, staring at each other’s faces in dismay.

Unable to remain still, Paandav-mother Kunti rose and rushed after Madan who had anticipated that she would not stay still (since women act without thinking of consequences) and was walking away very slowly. So Kunti had no difficulty in stepping forward and lovingly catching hold of Rukmini’s son firmly with both her hands. How indescribable is the might of divine maya which encircles and binds all creation! None can escape it. As bhakti’s devoted slave, Krishna’s son Kama-deva honoured elders sincerely, full of bhakti for the Paandav-mother like a worshipped devi. Therefore he was unable to extricate himself from her embrace and could not advance even a step. Kunti’s tears drenched his breast. Then Kunti broke her silence and said, “Dear one, without telling me where are you going? Has Vaasudev told you to behave in this way without bhakti and affection? Or is that the advice of your cruel-hearted mother? No, that cannot be! Perhaps you are behaving thus overcome by childish, whimsical inclinations. However, you will not be able to leave now; I will not let go of you by any means. At this instant I am despatching my chief envoy to Vaasudev. You stay here! My messenger will tell Krishna that I myself have granted shelter to the Avanti ruler. Or, right now I will go myself with family to Dwarka and see with whom Vaasudev will fight. Should conflict arise finally, you will have to help us. Look, whenever any type of danger has occurred, Bhagwan Vaasudev at once helps us. It is he whom we call upon when fallen into danger and beg him alone to save us from calamity. Between him and you there is no difference. Therefore, in the danger besetting us it is you who will have to be our support. Besides you in this world there is no friend in danger we can turn to.”

Rukmini’s son Kama-deva replied to her politely in sweet speech, “Devi, your wish will bear fruit; your heart’s desire will be fulfilled I have no doubt. Vaasudev himself will be your support. That Shri Krishna is the support and friend of Paandavs is well-known in the three worlds, therefore why are you disturbed and anxious? People’s minds get distracted in danger—is your state also like that? Or are you putting me to a test? Devi, just as water never becomes fire and fire never turns into water, so God does never cause harm to anyone. Have you forgotten that? Has it ever been seen or heard that Vaasudev has anywhere caused harm of any type to anyone? Even if he causes harm it is transformed into a great favour. Whatever he does is for welfare. Those who arefortunately able to become aware of the true form of God Krishna, it is they who are capable of comprehending all this. What more shall I say? Attend to what I say in brief.

“Mother Rukmini-devi had said to my father that everyone in the three worlds believed that he would even destroy himself but never go against the Paandavs. Paandav-destruction was absolutely impossible for him. Therefore he must reveal to her what his intentions were behind declaring war against them, for the consequences of all his acts were always for welfare. If he did not do so, she would not permit Kama-deva to go to the Paandavs. Smiling, father Vaasudev told my mother that he could never keep anything secret from her for she was his second heart. She had correctly surmised that whatever he did was for the good of people. The battle he had announced was for bringing about the future welfare of the Paandavs. He said, ‘For accomplishing a task there were two ways: one by force; the other by strategy. Of these the second path is superior and adopted by the intelligent, whereas the first is beastly and the way of beasts of prey. In future the Paandavs would have to accomplish many grave tasks like killing terrible foes and seizing kingdoms. By displaying one’s own prowess in public, enemies can be overawed and the desired goal attained. With the mare as excuse, joining with the devas I will of my own accord be defeated by the Paandavs in battle. Thereby the Paandav’s unique worldwide glory will be established. Their enemies will not be capable of rising up against them suddenly. Many foes will accept their overlordship out of fear, without battle. Just hearing the name of the rakshasa Dashaanan many would accept his mastery on their own. It is not necessary to strike with the vajra; merely on hearing its crack people in the three worlds shudder. O auspicious lady! For accomplishing the task I have adopted such a strategy and it is for this reason that I have declared war. Do not worry!’

“When father stopped speaking, my mother’s delight was boundless. She loves and honours you even more than me. Her affection and bhakti are genuine, sincere. Therefore, be assured. Your sons will be world-conquerors undoubtedly. Vaasudev is God himself, as you know. So remember that God never causes misfortune.”

Reassuring Kunti thus, Krishna’s son Madan then left. Kunti was unable to stop him. Pursuing him as best as she could, finally she stood at one place, waiting till Rukmini’s son vanished out of sight, gazing fixedly like a statue, as if seeing him even when he was beyond sight. Such was her love for Vaasudev and his kith and kin. Later, distracted, like one mad and helpless, she approached the royal road and then came to her senses. Then slowly she turned towards her residence and gradually, like rain-laden clouds, walked musing, “Madan’s words are true indeed. God never does what is bad; whatever he does is for good.”

The lord of Yadus having appointed his son Madan for the aforesaid task as messenger immediately proclaimed hostilities. On receiving his orders the three-worlds-conquering Narayani Army left for battle at once. Shaamba, Aniruddha, Gada, Shaaran, Saatyaki, Haardikya, Akrur and other Yadu warriors are renowned maha-heroes on earth of unrivalled might. Each left with his troops equipped for battle. The earth filled with horses, elephants, chariots and infantry. The sky was filled with pennants, banners, crowns, plumes and the quarters resounded with neighing, trumpeting, roars, shouts and the clattering of chariots. All apprehended that untimely dissolution was impending.

On Mount Kailas deva-of-devas Pike-wielder Shiva could not remain still any more. That deva-of-devas Vaasudev, upon whose feet he meditated in his heart day and night, he had commanded. Therefore, he too arrived to fight against the Paandavs. His hand held the three-worlds-shattering great pike, accompanied by innumerable spirits, ghosts and demi-gods. Their appearance was very terrifying, highly virulent by nature. Some had faces of horses, elephants, tigers, lions, cows, deer, leopards, with one mouth, many mouths, one foot, two feet, three feet, four feet and more. Some were cripples, some dwarfs, some sick, some lame, some naked, some pot-bellied, some with sunken bellies.

Thereafter lotus-born Brahma with prayer-beads and Shachi’s husband the lord of devas with Jayanta, the clouds Samvartta, Aavartta etc. with their mighty, huge attendants arrived there. Lord of waters Varuna with thousands of rivers, lakes and seas arrived. Powerful, heroic lord of Yakshas Kuber arrived with variously dressed, triple-headed hordes of Yakshas. Dharmaraj Yama himself on his buffalo mount with Mrityu-Death, Kaal-Time and other followers came. With him were two chief warriors, terrible Jvar-fever and Maha-Jvar along with the general of all, Maha-Mrityu. Rakshasa raja Vibhishan and leader of apes Hanuman also arrived at the city of Yadus surrounded by innumerable troops. Whichever maha-warrior there was in the three worlds, everyone arrived in the city of Dwarka the moment they received the command of Krishna the lord of Dwarka to fight with the Paandavs.

Seeing the assembled warriors, the heart of Krishna the supreme strategist brimmed over with happiness. He thought to himself, “Today the supremacy and total victory of my most beloved Paandavs will be established in the three worlds, for today all the heroes of the three-worlds will be defeated by them.” Musing thus he arrived for battle near the place where the Paandavs were, the quarters and the sky echoing with the dreadful tumult of the troops. Without wasting an instant he messaged the Paandavs, “I have arrived with troops. Either hand Dandi over, or prepare for war. Other than these alternatives, I see no way for your welfare.”

Kama-deva while leaving had prohibited Kunti from revealing to others the secret he had conveyed to her. Therefore, without saying anything to her sons Kunti entered her chamber. Dharma’s son Yudhishthir, knowing that battle was inevitable, addressing his maha-heroic four brothers said, “What should be done now?” Kiriti (Arjun) said, “Nothing is to be done. Vaasudev will act.” Vrikodar said, “It is battle that is definitely duty. Where dharma is, victory is —if this be true then the always-devoted-to-dharma Paandavs will definitely be victorious. This I believe without any doubt. My mind is made up to fight.” Nakul and Sahadev said nothing, remaining silent. Again Yudhishthir said to Bheemsen, “Brother Bheem, you have no allies, no wealth, no troops and no general too. How will you fight? Particularly, battling Krishna on whose side are all the devas and heroes of the three worlds! Even if they were not, there is no loss, for by himself he is the devas and heroes of the three worlds. It is not as if you do not know that.”

Laughing, Vrikodar said, “I do not expect any other ally or wealth. With dharma alone as ally and wealth I will fight alone.” Then Dhananjay said politely, “If war is the settled decision then in my opinion Duryodhan’s help should be sought.” Noble Nakul opposing these unwelcome words of Arjun said, “That can never be. He is our constant foe. Suicide is preferable to praying for help from him.” Then Sahadev said, “The person who can fight with Shri Krishna, it is not impossible for him to take Duryodhan’s help. That type of person is also capable of suicide. In brief, I do not like any of your ideas. I will not fight, will not be on any side. I will only sit beside mother Kunti.”

As the brothers argued thus Yudhishthir said, “At this time disputing is not proper. Calm down! Let me ask mother. Whatever she permits we will do.” Saying this, Yudhishthir went to the mother and reporting everything said, “Mother, those who have found so wise a mother as you and as their supreme well-wisher, what worry can they have? Now you decide what we should do.”

Kunti said, “Just as agnates should be regarded as born foes, so too sometimes they should be considered as the best friends. Therefore, send an envoy to Duryodhan asking for his help. In danger even poison is amrita, and again amrita can become poison.”

Dharmaraj Yudhishthir heeding the mother’s advice and command immediately sent an envoy to Duryodhan. Hearing the entire matter from the envoy Dhritarashtra’s son asked the advice of Beeshm and others in the court. First wicked and cunning Shakuni said, “Fortunately the right time has come. Opposing Krishna the Paandavs will have to perish. Therefore, joining Krishna’s side you should destroy the enemy. What is more delightful and lucky than the enemy being destroyed by the hand of another?”

Hearing this rage flooded Vidur’s heart. Angrily he said, “Though washed a hundred times the blackness of coal is not removed. A snake can never disgorge nectar, only venom. You too are the same. Habitually you are wicked and you have spoken as is your nature. Your advice is not at all just or logical. The Paandavs are brothers and agnates. To take their side in danger is duty by all means, specially in such circumstances. If you do not help, that is your matter. But we have to tender proper and just advice. That is why I am saying this: it is protecting the refugee that is the dharma of Kshatriyas.”

Vidur’s words touched Duryodhan’s heart. He felt that helping the Paandavs was the best option and, ordering the troops to prepare, he himself made ready with Beeshm and other Kuru heroes. Soon Duryodhan set out for battle with a four-fold army. The ten directions echoed with the sound of drums, resounding with the trumpeting of elephant columns, the neighing of cavalry and the shouts of troops. His tributary chiefs also rushed to join him. The Paandavs too got ready for battle and left to face the Yaadav army. Hidimba’s son the maha-hero Ghatotcach began to accompany them like a mobile mountain. It seemed as if five lions were exiting a mountain cave with their only cub; or that Brahma, Vishnu, Rudra, Ganesh and Surya the five gods had descended upon earth from heaven with mighty Karttikeya.

Kurukshetra, sacred in the three worlds, was designated as the field of battle. Soon armies of both sides arrived at that holy place, terrifying the world with their tumult, the ten directions flashing with the reflections from their weapons, the earth shuddering from the weight of their steps, the quarters filled with the sound of their shouts. That gods, demons, gandharvas and others would fight with men, such an unprecedented, unheard of event none had ever dreamt or thought of even by mistake. Therefore, with all the heroes of the three worlds being gathered there a novel, marvellous scene was observed on the field of Kurukshetra.

As the armed troops awaited the command, the Kuru patriarch Beeshm decided to despatch a messenger to Vaasudev as propriety and bounden duty demanded. When everyone approved of that, maha-minded Vidur himself presented himself before Krishna as envoy of the Paandavs. Greeted by Krishna as proper, Vidur took a seat having saluted him and said, “Bhagwan, your sport is wondrously various and baffling to people in general. Why you do anything at anytime is known to you alone and none else. Therefore, how will I make out what the result will be of this Yaadav-Paandav war? Be that as it may, to ordinary people of low intelligence like us this war does not seem to be just, appropriate and logical. Those who are always followers, seeking shelter and obedient, those very Paandavs you are embarking against. To see, hear and speak of it is disgusting. Therefore, to refrain from this war appears to be the best in every way.”

Then laughing Krishna said, “O maha-minded! It will be even as you have said. Do you not know I always favour my followers, am defeated by my bhaktas and controlled by them? Therefore, fear not! Today too I will be defeated by the Paandavs. Go quickly and proclaim hostilities!”

As Krishna was speaking thus with Vidur, Devi Kunti arrived there. Seeing her, Krishna arose and the Paandav mother lovingly grasped him by the hand. Comprehending her intention, Vaasudev said addressing her, “Devi, grant blessings that today the Paandavs gain the glory of victory and I with my army be defeated by them. Perhaps from Pradyumna you have become aware of my intention. Therefore, depart free from fear, being assured.”

Kunti said, “Child, women by nature are fickle. Even having seen and heard, because of that fickleness I am confused, anxious and distressed. What more can I say when terrible dangers can be overcome by singing and remembering your name! Specially, you are well-wisher of the Paandavs, never think or do their ill. Therefore, whatever you think is proper and good, do that.”

Saying this, in great distress Kunti left there with Vidur. Vidur having escorted her to her place went to the battlefield and conveying Vaasudev’s intentions to Beeshm and others said, “You all prepare for war. Vaasudev does not wish to make a treaty.”

As Vidur spoke thus, from the Yaadav side tumultuous roars filled all sides splitting mountain caves and the sounds of drums beaten loudly echoed. That terrible sound terrified cowards and inspired the brave, distressing peaceful well-wishers. Battle-mad elephants and horses shitting and pissing reared up trumpeting and neighing. Then momentarily the battlefield shook and echoed, the sea became tumultuous, hills moved with landslides and the sky seemed to expand.

Krishna’s son Kama understanding that this was the right time, released the unique mesmerising missile from his bow to see the fun. Instantly, all on the battlefield were stunned; eyelids drooping, bewildered. Beeshm, Dron and other heroes all were at a loss, deprived of movement, standing still at one spot like statues. No one could comprehend the reason for such a sudden mishap.

Thereafter, omniscient Shri Krishna having permitted his son to withdraw the mesmerising missile, Pradyumna did so at once. Then the opponents being able to understand waxed wild with rage and all engaged in battle together. Both sides, mortal and immortal, were equal in weaponry and vigour. First, deva-of-devas the Pike-wielder himself engaged in battle with Beeshm. Seeing lord of spirits Mahadeva fighting, his attendant hordes of varied appearances leapt into war full of pride and rage. Jahnu’s daughter Ganga, from within Mahadeva’s matted locks, with her pure glances snatched the strength of the spirit-hordes and bolstered the power of the Kuru troops to encourage her son Beeshm’s enthusiasm. Seeing that, Bhagwan Maheshvar glancing at his followers excited their energy so that they madly engaged in destroying the Kuru troops. Then the Kuru soldiers, distressed by their attacks, began to flee in all directions. Yadu-lord Shri Krishna seeing the warriors on the Paandav side bewildered and fleeing, immediately held back his own battling warriors. Then, troubled by sun-like Beeshm’s blazing onslaught, the triple-eyed conqueror of worlds grasped his terrible world-annihilating great pike.

Simultaneously, terrific duels took place between mighty Bheem and Baladev, Karn and Kama, Arjun and Skanda, Dron and Shri Krishna, Duryodhan and Indra, Shishupal and Shaamba, Dantavakra and Satyavaan and Kama’s son Aniruddha with Jaraasandh and Ghatotkach.

The deva army with great energy and battle-ferocity, in great rage with great force began to decimate the Kuru army using celestial weapons. Thick clouds of dust raised by arrows, dense darkness and blinding rays of light appearing seemed to be ending the world. The sea and the earth shook repeatedly, echoing with the roars of warriors of both sides. The clash of arrow with arrow, sword with sword, club with club, spear with spear kept growing more and more fierce. The deva army teeming with elephants, horses and chariots tinkling with thousands of bells, mighty like blue clouds, engaged in terrible battle with the armed Kuru troops. The Paandav soldiers almost mad with anger began to trouble the deva troops showering them with pikes, swords, spears, javelins and arrows with golden fletches. Yaadav soldiers began to be slain on elephant-and-horse-back and fell terrified. Soon the battlefield became filled with splintered chariots, sundered elephants, horses and warriors’ limbs.

As a fish delighted on finding fresh water leaps into its depths, so maha-hero Arjun entered into the ocean of deva troops to fight Karttikeya. He mused, “The devas entered the battlefield with troops to assist Vaasudev and are immortal. Therefore, by weapons I will return them to the place they have come from.” Thinking thus, the leonine hero Parth shot the wind-missile. Like robbers that are bound hand-and-foot by the State, the greatest hero of the three worlds Karttikeya too, being placed in his own abode by Arjun’s wind-missile, was surprised, startled and stunned. Great Skanda was so overcome with shame and dispirited that he became incapable of entering the battlefield again.

Elsewhere, seeing the battle-skill of Dronacharya, Karn, Vrikodar, Shishupal, Dantavakra, Jaraasandh and mountainous Ghatotkach there was no end to the amazement of Kamadeva, the lord of devas Indra, Shaamba, Satyavaan, Aniruddha and other heroes on the Yaadav side. None could make out when the Paandav maha-heroes strung arrows on bows, released them or drew arrows from quivers They could only see opponents falling on the battlefield, crushed, decimated.

When the dispirited Yaadav army and many heroes began to flee, then the lord of waters Varuna-deva enraged entered the war surrounded by all rivers, lakes, ponds and wells. By his mighty current, the battlefield was flooded and elephants, chariots with riders and drivers, soldiers floated helplessly. By Vaasudev’s maya soon that too was ended. A little later, the lord of waters too retreated being defeated by the Paandavs.

By Vaasudev’s maya, bewildered by his discus and the variety of his sport, almost blinded, senseless, the deva and Yaadav armies, like spellbound pythons or thunder-struck trees or entranced creatures, fell motionless, bereft of strength and spirit. Therefore, the Paandavs won victory and the Yaadav side was defeated. What is more, Bhagwan Vaasudev was defeated by Dronacharya, the deva-of-devas by Kuru-lord Bheeshm, the lord of devas Indra by Duryodhan, Varuna-deva by Nakul, Yama by Kripacharya, Vayu-the-Wind by Yudhishthir, Kama by Karn, Baladev by Bheem, Shaamba by Shishupal, Satyavaan by Dantavakra, Aniruddha by Jaraasandh, the general of devas, six-headed Karttikeya, by Dhananjay and Saatyaki by Sahadev. Similarly, other heroes on the Yaadav side were also defeated by the great heroes on the Paandav side.

What can be more shameful, disgusting, laughable and regrettable than the celestial host being defeated by humans! Thinking thus, the devas’ hearts filled with rage, hatred, jealousy and outrage all together. Like ghee-fed fire, spurned serpents and storm-tossed seas, with redoubled enthusiasm they appeared again for war. Grandsire Brahma and the lord of death Yama had been defeated by Shaalva and the Paandav Yudhishthir. Both of them again with redoubled spirit, prowess and enthusiasm rushed into battle. Again the devas by beat of drum announced war. The maha-hero, Parvati’s son youthful Kumar again with full force and enthusiasm entered the battlefield with his troops. This time the devas, determined to destroy the foe, took up their special weapons. Brahma’s rosary, Vishnu’s discus, the Pike-wielder’s pike, Karttikeya’s dart, Varuna’s noose, Indra’s vajra and the lord of death Yamaraj’s deadly staff, these seven thunderbolts assembled. By the energy and the terrible sound of these seven vajras heaven and hell were filled, the earth shook and the three worlds were terrified.

Meanwhile, as a lake is not beauteous without lotuses, the sky is dull without the moon and the serpent plain without its gem, so was the state of the city of the immortals without Urvashi for so very long. That what is Svarga’s should return there and Svarga’s beauty reside in Svarga, this was the innermost desire of the devas, devis and specially of the raja of the devas. So that this wish could be fulfilled without delay the deva-host was constantly worried, striving to accomplish that and determined to find out the means for that. Mare-turned Urvashi too unable to bear the torture of the mortal world was constantly meditating upon Devi Bhagavati’s lotus feet hoping for salvation. Cursed by the rishi, when Urvashi had tearfully pleaded with the maha-ascetic Durvasa, he had said, “In time, upon earth the moment the eight vajras assemble your curse will be lifted.” Now seeing that seven vajras had assembled, lovely Urvashi concentratedly began to dhyana of Devi Bhagavati and paean her.

As the miser is the slave of wealth, the greedy of food and the voluptuary of desire, so devas are overcome by bhakti. Devi Maheshvari always regarded Urvashi with affection. Seeing that without Urvashi the world of apsaras had become bereft of splendour, dull and sorrowful like Lakshmi-less Vaikuntha, Gayatri-less Brahman homes and dancing halls without lights, her heart was already pained with regret and she was thinking how to free her from the curse and fetch her to the celestials’ abode. In the meantime, the paeaning of the best-of-apsaras Urvashi agitated her heart even more. She also heard from her attendant Vijayaa about the defeat of the deva-host. Then unable to stay still any more, realising that this was the proper moment to accomplish the task, Devi Haimavati—creation-preservation-destruction-doer, demon-destroyer, sin-remover—immediately appeared on that dreadful battlefield to fulfil Bhagwan Vaasudev’s aim and remove Urvashi’s curse.

Descending on the battlefield in the form of the war-goddess Chandikaa, stunning and bewildering the ten directions with resounding loud laughter, she stood amidst the deva-host. Seeing her appear in the battlefield, the heart of Urvashi-turned-mare danced with delight. The seven devas mentioned above hoping to gain victory, pranam-ing at the Devi’s feet, flourishing their seven vajras stood for destroying the Paandavs.

Then the dissipator of all maya, the severer of bonds of being, the presiding deity of maya Mahamaya shaking the three worlds with her roars, raised her own sword. Upon all the eight vajras appearing simultaneously before her eyes, the curse laid upon Urvashi by the rishi was removed. Abandoning the mare’s form, assuming her own self she fell at Devi Bhagavati’s feet and with palms joined together submitted, “Mother! Restrain your rage! Having brought creation into being, it is not proper to destroy it. If along with these seven weapons of the devas your infallible sword is let loose then, let alone the Paandav army, the three worlds will sink into oblivion forever. Therefore, be pleased and withdraw this terrible form! By your grace, after so long I have achieved liberation from the rishi’s curse.”

Saying this, lovely Urvashi pranam-ing the Devi again, rose into the firmament. From the sky flowers rained down in abundance covering the battlefield. Joyous beat of drums sounded delighting the ears of all. The Devi, too, pleased, vanished from there at once.

While leaving, Urvashi addressing Raja Dandi said, “Maharaj, do not be deluded by the world’s vain maya. Thinking the evanescent world to be eternal, thinking the delight of luxury is the essence of the world, erroneously overcome by delusion being confused by maya, you have suffered so much pain, suffering and humiliation for so long. Now everything is clear. Wherever there are possessions there is danger, where there is birth there is death and where there is union there is separation. Realising this, by the yoga of knowledge, intelligence and discrimination steady the atman. Instead of feeling worry, grief or sorrow for me, fix your consciousness on the feet of the God of all, the atman of all, Shri Hari. Only then will you be happy in endless joy and attain refuge in the all-sins-removing lap of that Lord.” Saying this, when Urvashi departed the Avanti raja remained with head bowed for a time like one entranced, bewildered, startled and stunned. Controlling the mind’s movement by the power of intelligence, discrimination and knowledge, he became firm.

Seeing such an unprecedented, unthinkable and unexpected event the devas, Paandavs and Yaadavs were amazed beyond all bounds. By the grace of Bhagwan Vaasudev and his maya the war was halted. By the Yaadav-lord Krishna’s infinite maya the Paandavs won victory. The three worlds echoed with their majesty, glory and prowess. Thereafter, greeting each another pleasantly, both parties returned to their own places with their attendants.

Shuka informed Parikshit that he was actually the principal courtier of the celestial court, a Gandharva named Vidyaadhar. Like Urvashi, he was an incomparable gem of the court of the immortals. In his absence Indra the lord of devas was dull and dispirited like the dimmed moon. The time for the end of his curse had approached. Resorting to yoga he ought to abandon this temporary mortal frame and proceed to Svarga soon, particularly as destructive, sinful, invincible Kali Yuga was spreading over the world. Yet, he said, Veda Vyas had declared that while practising dharma through ascesis, abstinence or prayers bears fruit in ten years in the Satya Yuga, in one year in the Treta Yuga and in one month in the Dvapara Yuga it fructifies in just one day-and-night in the Kali Yuga. Therefore, the Kali Yuga is the best. The benefit that accrues in the Satya Yuga by taking considerable pains through dhyana, by diverse yajnas in the Treta and through varied pujas in the Dvapara is achieved in the Kali Yuga merely by chanting the name of Hari and donating without desire, visiting tirthas or even listening to their glory.

Having said this, Shukadeva left Parikshit. On the seventh day Parikshit died after being bitten by Takshaka naga and his soul flashed into the heavens. At that time Janamejay was but a child. The counsellors and the subjects installed him as raja so that the kingdom was not left ruler-less. In due course, marrying the Kashi king Suvarnavarmaa’s daughter Vapushtamaa, Raja Janamejay ruled happily.

Having narrated all this, Lomaharshana’s son Sauti took leave, offering pranam to Shaunak and the other ascetics and, meditating on Hari, left on pilgrimage to tirthas.

***

Conclusion

In his play Girish Ghosh made Bheem the main character and placed the incident at the time when the Paandavs and Duryodhan were assembling their armies for the war. It is Saatyaki who informs Krishna, much to his astonishment and rage (he is not omniscient as in the Dandi Parva), that a spy has found that in the kingdom of Matsya Yudhishthir has granted refuge to Dandi. Instead of Pradyumna it is Saatyaki who is sent to Yudhishthir as Krishna’s envoy. Bheem visits Krishna in Dwarka and begs for death at his hands in a duel, sparing his four brothers. On Krishna’s refusal, Bheem calls him “Great trickster, great cheat, extremely cunning (ati chhal, ati khal, ateeva kutil)” (Act 3, scene 5), a dialogue that became extremely popular among the public. Following advice sent secretly by Krishna, Subhadraa goes at night to a shrine of the Goddess in a dense wood where she obtains her blessing that Dandi will regain his kingdom. Arjun meets Urvashi and assures her of salvation. Seeing them together, the jealous Dandi surrenders to Krishna in Dwarka but is refused as he has not brought the mare. Balaram also joins the battle and is defeated by Bheem. Beeshm defeats Shiva, Karn defeats Indra, Yudhishthir defeats Brahma. Krishna despatches Saatyaki to advise Mahadeva to take up the trident, Brahma the water-pot, Indra the vajra, Varuna the noose, Skanda the spear, Yama his rod, while he himself takes up the discus. As they wield their weapons, Kali (Ghosh calls her Krishna’s mother Katyayani) manifests with raised sword and her yoginis. The curse is lifted with paeans to Kali. By Krishna’s grace all those killed are resurrected.

There is a Telegu myth, whose origins are not clear, about Arjun fighting Krishna which was made into a film in Telegu, Kannada and Tamil, entitled “Krishnarjuna Yuddhamu” in 1963. Here, Arjuna had boasted to Narada that none can make him fight Krishna. Gaya or Chitrasen is the Gandharva king who, is blessed by Brahma with eternal fame. While returning to his kingdom in his aircraft, he spits betel-juice. This falls into the hands of Krishna (or of rishi Gaalav) as he is offering prayers to Surya, the sun god. Infuriated, Krishna swears to kill him (or Gaalav orders Krishna to do so). Terrified, Gaya flees and is advised by Narad to seek refuge with Arjun via Subhadraa who, without ascertaining facts, grants him protection. She then persuades Arjun to protect him so that her promise is honoured. So, Arjuna wages battle with Krishna. To save the earth from dissolution, Shiva appears and stops the duel. Krishna/rishi Gaalav pardons Gaya. This tale parallels the Rama-Hanuman duel over a similar incident that was also made into films in Hindi (1957), Telegu (1975) etc. However, the Dandi Parva is unique in its focus on the eight vajras having to be flourished together for the liberation of Urvashi from her cursed state as a mare.

Vyasa a Polymorphic, Multi-textual, Omni-dimensional Persona

By

Kevin McGrath: Vyasa Redux—Narrative in Epic Mahabharata, Anthem Press, London, 2020, pp.121

This is the 8th book by Dr. McGrath of Harvard University investigating different aspects of the Mahabharata, supplementing his 2011 book, Jaya: Performance in Epic Mahabharata. Intriguingly titled, it studies in detail the multiple roles played by this seer-poet who composes and participates in this autobiography which is also the biography of his descendants, turning the narrative into “a facsimile of (human) consciousness.”

Vyasa and Sanjaya are the only two dramatic persons who are also creative poets. It is true that Bhishma displays no dramatic persona in the two Books of Peace and Instruction (Shanti and Anushasana). In the former, however, McGrath overlooks the tragic persona of Vyasa himself desperately seeking his beloved son Shuka in vain.

It is Vyasa who gifts Sanjaya supernatural sight, inspires Bhishma to instruct, grants Gandhari sight of the corpses in Kurukshetra and shows blind Dhritarashtra his slaughtered kith and kin (akin to Odysseus’ viewing of the dead heroes, with Achilles silently turning away from him, whereas the Pandavas are reconciled with Karna). Yudhishthira will encounter them again twice over in Naraka and Svarga. Vyasa’s sudden appearances and disappearances always direct the plot and impact the emotions of characters. Sanjaya explicitly attributes his audio-visual experience of the Gita to Vyasa’s grace. Bhishma’s hymn to Krishna repeats what he had heard from Vyasa. The interlinking of Dvaipayana-Krishna and Vasudeva-Krishna is profoundly significant, as is that of Ganga-born Bhishma and Yamuna-island-born Vyasa. Vyasa is the only epic poet to move even to Svarga. In the Stri Parva he hears Vishnu telling the Earth how the kings would slaughter one another at Kurukshetra (it is not the Earth who forecasts this, as McGrath writes on p. 62), lending a cosmic inevitability to the happenings. In McGrath’s words, he is “a literary super-catalyst affecting the plot variously” and functions like Athena in the Odyssey, virtually like a director-cum-script-writer-cum-actor. Adept at flashbacks as well as flash-forwards, he is gifted with both foresight and hindsight. His absence from the crucial Sabha Parva (and Krishna’s during the dice-game), Virata Parva (Krishna is absent too) and the Udyoga Parva (but for two by-the-way interjections) is a feature that needed further. Vyasa also presides at four (not three vide p. 81) critical rituals: the royal anointing; the war as yajna; the horse-sacrifice and the snake-holocaust.

While Vyasa is “an acutely polymorphic and multi-textual figure” whose personal is only approximated by Homer’s Athena, both the Mahabharata and the Odyssey are polytronic. The unity is not of time but of narrative structure. Human time is quite vague in both except for the 18 days of the Kurukshetra War. The forest exile and the Shanti and Anushasana Parvas seem to be timeless. By ending with the snake-sacrifice where the epic was first recited, the poem creates cyclical “poetic time”. Both epics are also “multi-texts”, made up of numerous traditions (historical, geographical, social, mythological etc.) that are different yet coherent.

The structure of the Mahabharata is possibly the most complicated of any epic. Ugrashrava Sauti narrates to rishi Shaunaka and his monks what he heard Vaishampayana recite at Janamejaya’s snake-sacrifice at Takshashila as Vyasa had taught him (McGrath erroneously places it in Afghanistan, vide pp. 23, 46, instead of Northwest Pakistan). Sauti had also heard it from his father Lomaharshana. Further, we hear all this from a nameless rhapsode. So we have: anonymous rhapsode-> Sauti-> Lomaharshana-> Vaishampayana-> Vyasa. In the Odyssey it is: poet-> Muse-> Zeus-> Athena (who, unlike Vyasa, is a shape-shifting narrator and actor)-> Odysseus. Within these concentric circles there are numerous other narrators: Sanjaya in the Udyoga and the war books; Markandeya and Lomasha in the forest-exile; Bhishma primarily in the Udyoga, Shanti and Anushasana Parvas; Narada and Vyasa himself. The entire narrative is an extended flashback, artistically so rendered that the events acquire an immediacy. The narrative repeatedly moves back and forth. For instance, the tale of Shakuntala and her son the eponymous Bharata precedes the chronologically anterior account of Yayati and his sons.  Again, despite prophesies, protagonists lose awareness of these and proceed to take decisions that are character-driven, yet fulfil what has been foretold. Beginning with Yayati the great ancestor of the clans, this persists right up to Janamejaya’s sacrifice that was foretold to remain incomplete.

McGrath makes the very interesting point that Sauti’s summary (Parvasangraha) mentions 23,783 slokas for the war books including the Sauptika, approximating the 24,000 of the Jaya that Vyasa composed first. Sanjaya narrating the War Books is akin to the Greek aoidos, a poet of preliterate Bronze Age times, while Vaishampayana is a rhapsode of the literate period. The archaic war books became the Maha-Bharata through Vyasa’s act of supreme dhyana. It is very interesting that for this act of poetic inspiration McGrath should find an analogy in Bob Dylan who felt that his songs came to him from somewhere else. Sri Aurobindo has documented at length the process of poetic inspiration for his Savitri. Dhyana is also an act Bhishma performs before instructing Yudhishthira. Krishna’s Gita is divine afflatus. The evolution of the epic’s plot seems to be through meditative experiences of these three. Added to this is Krishna’s theophany in the Hastinapura court and on the battlefield. These, argues McGrath, “supply the core narrative poem with its ethical and spiritual force.” In enumerating Krishna’s strategies he overlooks the pains taken over Drona’s killing. He claims there is no solemn ritual (p. 27) despite the repeated extolling of yajnas.

The preliterate traditions that were compiled into one epic in classical times covered a vast geography to supersede specific locales and regimes for appealing to the commonalty, becoming “geopolitically uniform”. McGrath ascribes to this the absence of references to Buddhism, that was surely contemporary, to the heritage of the Harappan Civilization, to idol-worship and to money. The epic world is artificial, not reflecting material reality. Even the weather and physical details about characters are left vague. There are five places that are particularly important: Hastinapura, Indraprastha (curiously unoccupied by the Pandavas post-war, as Rama’s sons abandoned Ayodhya), the forest, Matsya and Kurukshetra. Although the last features as a field of blood (beginning with Parashurama celebrating his massacre of Kshatriyas in five pools called samantapanchaka), its initial fame is because Brahma performed a yajna there. Later Raja Kuru obtained the boon that Svarga was assured to anyone dying there, Krishna recited the Gita and Bhishma instructed Yudhishthira from the bed-of-arrows. Dvaraka should be added as significant because Krishna commutes between it and wherever the Pandavas are.

Despite the rivers of blood that flow, Homer and Vyasa’s poetry encapsulates it in similes and metaphors that invest death with beauty (note that Sauti begins with the tree image for the epic and the warring fraternities). Vyasa goes further than Homer and shows us the heroes beyond death glorious in Svarga. Neither does Homer have the very powerful moral dimension that Vyasa stresses repeatedly as his poem’s efficacy. Again, although the Iliad covers forty days and the Odyssey decades, there is little significance day-wise in either.

McGrath makes the very important point that Kshatriya lineages found in the Mahabharata are actually of matrilineal descent as all males had been killed by Parashurama and the women approached Brahmins for progeny. Vyasa’s direct descendants through Dhritarashtra are wiped out too. Janamejaya, descended from Yayati’s eldest son Yadu’s lineage through Subhadra, rules in Hastinapura and Indraprastha is given to Vajra, Yadava Krishna’s descendant. Thus, the bheda, division, that started when the youngest son Puru replaced the eldest Yadu is ended, lending another cyclical dimension to the epic.

McGrath argues that till the war ends the type of governance portrayed is fraternal (he cites the modern example of Saudi Arabia), what Romila Thapar calls “a lineage society”, whereas the Shanti Parva features a later development: the classic monarchic state instead of oligarchic rule.  However, if in the Iliad Agamemnon’s word is final, is that not true for Duryodhana and Yudhishthira as well? In both the Homeric and Indian epics, it is women who drive the plot: Helen, Chryseis, Briseis, Circe, Calypso, Penelope, Kaikeyi, Sita, Satyavati, Kunti, Gandhari. McGrath erroneously states that Draupadi, Sita and Penelope conduct svayamvaras to select a husband. It is actually viryashulka: the bride is the prize to be won in an archery contest. Helen’s marriage is an exception.

Bhishma’s lengthy discourse on peace and donating does not preclude war. Immediately thereafter, preceding the horse-sacrifice, is the Anugita by Krishna to Arjuna and then Arjuna’s battles accompanying the roving steed, paralleling the Gita and the Kurukshetra war. As McGrath points out, the vision of the Anugita and the society pictured in the Shanti and Anushasana Parvas is far from the Vyasan weltanschauung of the Gita and the Sabha Parva.

There is a very significant transition that usually goes unnoticed which McGrath mentions. Hearing of the living meeting the dead who emerge from the Bhagirathi, Janamejaya wishes to see his dead father. Suddenly, the narrator is no longer Vaishampayana. The anonymous reciter states, Sauti reporting that through dhyana (misspelled as “mediation” on p. 67 instead of “meditation”) Vyasa produced Parikshit.

In the very first book Sauti flashed forward to report Dhananjaya’s plangent lament to Sanjaya listing the key events of the plot even before the Mahabharata had begun to be recited. As McGrath writes, “it is absolutely proleptic.” On the basis of these first two books being largely in prose, McGrath feels that they are “editorial addition” setting the stage for the recitation at Takshashila. However, that is not where Vyasa composed and declaimed it as McGrath states on p.73. We are never told where Vyasa composed it, only that it took him three years. The Pauloma Parva is a fresh beginning, reporting Sauti’s arrival at Bhargava Shaunaka’s ashram, where he launches into a recital of the Bhrigu lineage (whence Sukthankar’s theory about the Bhargava Brahmins being the editors of the Mahabharata). Sauti further states having heard the story of Astika, composed by Vyasa, from his father Lomaharshana, Vyasa’s disciple, as he recited it to sages in the Naimisha forest. Thus, yet another concentric circle of narration is added. Although, initially, Sauti stated that its first public declamation was by Vaishampayana at Vyasa’s bidding to recite the poem of bheda (division), after the Astika Parva he states that during intervals of the snake-sacrifice Brahmins told Vedic tales while Vyasa recited the Bharata. Vaishampayana tells Janamejaya that he will tell how the bheda arose out of the dice-game for sake of the kingdom, the forest-exile and the war—the three crucial stages of the epic—and provides a summary (a fifth one) that, curiously, omitting the rajasuya yajna, ends with Duryodhana’s death and the Pandavas’ jaya (victory) that completes the tale of bheda. Vaishampayana’s own beginning is with the tale of Uparicara Vasu, father of Matsyagandha. These several beginnings are evidence of “editorial bricolage”, writes McGrath, seeking to include all possible traditions. The narrative repeatedly moves back and forth. For instance, the tale of Shakuntala and her son, the eponymous Bharata, precedes the chronologically anterior account of Yayati and his sons.

Janamejaya puts several questions to Vaishampayana before the recital begins: why the mighty Pandavas tolerated the misery inflicted; why Bhima controlled his rage; why Draupadi did not consume the Dhartarashtras; why the brothers obeyed Yudhisthira though cheated; why Yudhishthira bore undeserved wretchedness; why invincible Arjuna, with Krishna as charioteer, suffered so much? McGrath does not examine why these six questions are never answered. Surely, this is a moot question.

McGrath mentions with admiration the retellings by Shashi Tharoor (The Great Indian Novel) and Karthika Nair (Until the Lions). Amreeta Syam’s long poem “Kurukshetra” should be added to these. While quoting approvingly from Girja Kumar’s study The Mahabharatans, he could also have referred to Krishna Chaitanya (K.K. Nair)’s superb work The Mahabharata—a literary study. McGrath ends with a splendid discussion of the Odyssey (and a brief but insightful overview of the Iliad celebrating the Karna-like Achilles intent upon earning fame) drawing out the similarities in theme and structure with the Mahabharata. In all three epics the deaths of the heroes are foretold, but the Homeric poems do not include their deaths. Both are concerned not merely with a multi-dimensional narrator and a hero but also with family dynamics and divine agency. The template they follow is similar. McGrath’s work of just 104 pages with a striking cover and beautifully printed is densely packed with rich insights and is an immensely rewarding read.

cf. https://epaper.thestatesman.com/3357170/Kolkata-The-Statesman/20TH-JANUARY-2022#page/11/1