Epic Retold: The Mahabharata in Tweets (25 page)

Two more of the blind man’s sons. I do not even recall their names. How many left now?

‘Here!’ Visoka shouts, driving up close. ‘We must go to Arjuna quickly!’

Fear grips me as we race towards where Arjuna is fighting. The light is almost gone. The battle could end any moment.

Before we get closer, I hear a roar. Then the victorious blare of Arjuna’s conch.

When the dust settles, I see the fighting has ended. Krishna and Arjuna, followed by the rest of their contingent, are driving back.

At the camp, there is celebration. Yudhistira and Satyaki embrace the tired but triumphant Arjuna. Krishna is smiling.

Yuddhamanyu tells me what happened. Within the cart phalanx, Drona had created a Chakravyuha to tuck Jayadratha away from harm.

Arjuna had broken into the circle without trouble. Yuddhamanyu, Uttamaujas and a group of soldiers had followed him in.

Once inside, my brother had fought brilliantly. Ashwathma and the Bahlika prince Bhoorisravas had challenged him—only to retreat.

Karna had then faced Arjuna. The two fought a dazzling duel.

But as dusk approached and Jayadratha was yet to be sighted, Krishna asked Arjuna to pretend to give up on his vow and withdraw dejected.

Seeing Arjuna turn back, the Kauravas had cheered. For a brief moment, the formation parted to reveal an ecstatic Jayadratha.

That was all Krishna needed. Whipping the chariot around with amazing speed, he presented Arjuna a clear shot of his quarry.

The Gandiva spoke. Jayadratha fell, an arrow through his throat.

Leaving Yudhistira’s tent, I walk to mine. A vow fulfilled. Jayadratha killed. But has Abhimanyu been avenged? Will it return him to life?

What about Kshatradharma? And Jayadratha himself? It occurs to me war is an endless cycle of revenge.

Drishtadyumna is waiting for me at the tent. He must have come straight from the battlefield. I notice blood oozing from under his armour.

Knowing no words to console him, I ask Visoka to bring food. Drishtadyumna eats absently. I am glad for the silence.

‘Drona must fall,’ he says when he finishes. ‘I do not say that because of Kshatradharma alone. Drona must fall for us to win this war.’

He adds as an afterthought, ‘I almost had him today.’

‘Still, today we were lucky,’ I say. ‘Our losses weigh heavy, but Arjuna kept his word—’

‘Yes, his foolish word. Though that was the work of midnight messengers. Not luck!’

Seeing the expression on my face, Drishtadyumna says, ‘Krishna threatened to break his vow and fight if Jayadratha did not fall today.’

Drona understood the danger. Krishna as charioteer was one thing, but allegiances would falter if he fought for us.

The old brahmin knew how many under his command revered Krishna.

They would find it difficult to raise a weapon against him. The Kauravas could lose divisions.

‘The wily brahmin thought Jayadratha was a fair price to pay,’ Drishtadyumna says. ‘Why do you think he kept away from the Chakravyuha?’

Ghatotkacha is right. We are worse than animals. We barter our own if it suits our purpose.

Seeing my troubled face, Drishtadyumna says softly, ‘War is ugly. There never has been one without treachery. There never will be.

‘The righteous war you seek exists only in Yudhistira’s mind… Come, we must prepare for the battle at night!’

THE FORESTER

EPISODE 35

TWEETS 97

As night falls, a grey mist hangs over Kurukshetra.

The battle begins tentatively. There is something eerie about killing in the dark, in the soft glow of torches held high by soldiers.

But not for Ghatotkacha. The night is his armour. He engulfs the enemy like wildfire, his fearsome war cry audible across the battlefield.

The relief Jayadratha’s killing has brought is evident on Yudhistira. He insists on returning to the front and quickly clashes with Drona.

My elder brother excels tonight. He fights with surprising valour, then prudently withdraws before the teacher can encircle him.

Satyaki arrives to say he has killed Somadatta. With Arjuna’s help, he has also beheaded Somadatta’s son, Bhoorisravas.

The Bahlika king and his son were old enemies, and Satyaki seems particularly glad of his victory.

I drive away, leaving Yudhistira with Satyaki. Kurukshetra has become a venue to settle old scores—and not just for the Pandavas.

Fighting on the ground and in the chariot, I move across the fronts. At one point I clash with Ashwathma, who troubles me at close quarters.

But when I move away and unleash the heavier arrows that Mayan has made for me, the brahmin thinks it better to retreat.

I had almost made up my mind to return to the camp when I spot Duryodhana. Visoka quickly brings me face to face with him.

Picking up my mace, I jump to the ground. For a long time I had waited for this.

The same thought must have run through Duryodhana’s mind. He too reaches for his weapon.

But before I get to him, two of his bodyguards rush at me. In the dim light I make them out to be my cousins.

When I smash their heads open with two heavy blows, Duryodhana hesitates. Quickly, his charioteer turns and drives away.

Slowly I climb into my chariot. Though I have lost Duryodhana again, I feel exhilarated. The end cannot be far. He cannot avoid me forever.

‘This is Ghatotkacha’s night!’ Visoka says gleefully. ‘He is destroying them! Drona will have no troops left by morning!’

Krishna and Arjuna are in the palace tent when we arrive. A little later, Sahadeva comes in, bleeding and dejected. He lost to Karna.

‘The charioteer’s son laughed at me,’ he says, looking at no one in particular. ‘I don’t know why he did not just kill me!’

Sahadeva tells us Nakula too faced the same fate.

On the western front, Drishtadyumna is facing Drona again. And Ghatotkacha continues to decimate the enemy, switching fronts at will.

Having killed Alayudha, a rival forester who had joined the Kaurava side, Ghatotkacha was engaging Ashwathma when Sahadeva last saw him.

When Visoka goes back to the battlefield for news, I lie down in a corner to rest. But sleep evades me.

Sometime later, a messenger comes to say Drishtadyumna’s division is struggling. Karna had joined Drona against the Panchala prince.

‘Where is Ghatotkacha?’ I hear Krishna ask. ‘Ask him to go to Drishtadyumna. He is unstoppable in the night. Let Karna face his wrath!’

The messenger rides back. I sit up, wondering whether I should return to the front.

‘Rest, Bhima,’ Krishna says. ‘Save your strength for the morning. With Ghatotkacha there, we have nothing to fear!’

Giving up any hope of sleep, I walk to my tent. Visoka has thoughtfully kept aside food and a goatskin of liquor for me.

I sit outside. In the distance I can see the eerie glow of the battleground. I hear the screams of the dying. The shouts of the killers.

How much longer will this go on? Both armies have suffered terrible losses. Thousands have died. Men are deserting on either side.

A sudden change in the battle din breaks my reverie. I hear the roar from a hundred throats—and rising above it, the war cry of my son.

Then silence.

Quickly I strap on armour. By the time I reach the palace tent, I hear the clatter of hooves outside. Visoka.

‘Ghatotkacha almost killed Karna!’ he says. ‘Karna had to use the special weapon he has been saving for Arjuna to escape!’

Yudhistira asks, ‘Ghatotkacha?’

‘He fell,’ Visoka says quietly.

I feel numb. Yudhistira suddenly looks very old. There are tears in his eyes as he comes towards me.

‘This war… First Abhimanyu, now Ghatotkacha. He was the first born of the Pandavas, the poor child!’

Arjuna comes in hurriedly with Krishna. My younger brother embraces me wordlessly. In the background, I hear Visoka speaking to Krishna.

The Kaurava army will not be the same again. Ghatotkacha had done terrible damage to Drona’s division. Drishtadyumna had gained ground.

Messengers are arriving from the front. Slowly I walk outside. Inside, Krishna continues to quiz Visoka about Karna’s weapon.

‘Those who watched say it was a magical arrow,’ Visoka says. ‘Big enough to burst even Ghatotkacha’s chest.’

Numb, I listen.

‘Any advanced weapon is indistinguishable from magic to many!’ Krishna scoffs. ‘Must have been a javelin, fired mechanically somehow.’

After a while, I hear Krishna’s voice.

‘Why this sadness, Yudhistira? Think of what this means. Arjuna is safe! Ghatotkacha’s death calls for celebration, not mourning!’

Yudhistira says something inaudible. Krishna’s voice again.

‘Why do you think I asked Ghatotkacha to face Karna? His ultimate weapon is gone! Would you rather risk your brother than the forester?

‘Ghatotkacha’s life has served its purpose. There is no cause for sadness.’

Yes, the life of a tribal holds no meaning! Why should I be surprised? Had we not burnt alive six in Varanavata without a second thought?

I walk into the darkness. When Visoka catches up, I tell him quietly, ‘Switch to the war chariot. Take me to Karna.’

Visoka hesitates. He says, ‘You have not rested. It would be wise to wait for sunrise.’

Hearing my silence, he bows his head. He checks my armour and suggests switching my breastplate for a heavier piece.

‘Better be prepared. They say Karna has other divine arms,’ Visoka says.

‘I do not fear divine arms,’ I say. Visoka sighs and runs to yoke the horses.

The battle has moved further afield when we reach the front. Both sides appear drained of energy.

I notice most chariot fighters have withdrawn, leaving the combat to tired ground troops who engage each other in exhausted fury.

Karna must have been expecting me. Seeing my chariot, he quickly disengages from Drona’s division and drives towards me.

‘The fat fool has come for revenge!’ he says. ‘Let us see if you fight any better than your brothers!’

I do not respond. Karna has always been scathing with his words. Let that be so.

When I sink an eagle-feathered arrow into his flagpole very close to his face, he looks surprised. Swiftly, he responds.

Arrows with peacock feathers dart around me like angry wasps. I grit my teeth as two crescent-headed missiles skid off my breastplate.

Karna’s dexterity is admirable. But I have one advantage over him. Power.

Knowing my mind, Visoka dances the chariot away, creating the distance I want. I must reach Karna from outside his killing radius.

‘Fight, you coward!’ Karna shouts. ‘Do not run away.’

The force of the arrow I aim takes him back. The special bow Mayan has made for me gives me the range I need.

Karna understands my plan when my second salvo knocks the bow out of his hand. His charioteer tries to close the distance.

With ease, Visoka maintains the space. Effortlessly he manoeuvres the chariot to provide me a clear view of Karna.

The elders have never rated me as an archer. Neither has Karna. They will know their error now.

Ignoring the missiles that bite at my flesh, I focus on harassing Karna. Arrows hum from my bowstring.

The three arrows Karna fires fail to break my armour. Deliberately, I aim a heavy, serpent-headed missile at his breastplate.

When it strikes him in the chest, the charioteer’s son reels back against the flagpole. He is not laughing any more.

From the flight of his missiles, I know he is tiring. It is only a matter of time. The mighty Karna will fall tonight.

When I cut down his second bow, Karna is slow to reach for his spare. I already have a missile strung by the time he straightens up.

The faces of Ghatotkacha and Abhimanyu flash before my eyes as I aim for his throat. The arrow trembles for release. Now!

I had expected Visoka to whip the horses and close the distance. Instead, he cries, ‘No!’

When I turn to him furiously, he says, ‘Karna is your brother!

‘He is Kunti’s firstborn, the son she gave away when she was a maiden,’ Visoka says. ‘He is not the son of the charioteer Athiratha!’