Mahabharata: A Modern Retelling (54 page)

Now the white sun had started

on its inexorable downward course

toward the outline of the Asta hills.

Krishna and Arjuna, with their divisions,

forced a passage through the Kaurava ranks,

their sights set steadfastly on Jayadratha.

Arjuna, with his limitless supply

of iron-tipped arrows, inflicted dreadful harm,

but the Kauravas had too much at stake

to slacken their resolve.

So did Arjuna.

The going was hard. The chariot maintained

enormous speed, and still the Terrifier

was killing men a league ahead of him.

No chariot had moved as fast before.

It moved with the speed of imagination,

the speed of thought, the speed of rapt desire.

But the horses were becoming tired.

Krishna was concerned. “We must unyoke them,

remove their arrows, give them time to breathe.

And they need to drink, but there is no water.”

Arjuna shot an arrow at the ground

and at once a sparkling lake appeared,

with water birds and dense, shade-giving trees.

Then he made a shelter out of arrows

and, while he held back the Kauravas,

Krishna led the horses under it

and calmly unyoking them from the chariot,

rubbed and stroked them with an expert touch

so they revived from their fatigue and wounds.

To unyoke horses in the midst of battle!

Such a thing had never been done before.

Seeing this, at first the Kaurava troops

roared in triumph; surely now they had him,

heroic Arjuna, on foot and alone!

But, calm and focused, the great Pandava

raked your forces with his powerful weapons.

“Just our luck!” groaned some of them. “Duryodhana

has set us up as sacrificial sheep.

He doesn’t seem to understand that no one

can defeat Arjuna. King Jayadratha

is a dead man already. Duryodhana

should make arrangements for his funeral rites.”

Now, with the horses rested, Krishna drove

furiously forward, sweeping aside

all attempts to block their headlong progress.

The two heroes shone like twin dazzling suns.

At last, they caught a glimpse of Jayadratha

with Duryodhana protecting him.

Joy seized them. Now Arjuna roared in rage

and exultation. “Even Indra himself

with all the celestials could not save him now!”

They advanced all the faster, hooves thundering,

terrible ape banner striking terror

into the heart of the cowering Sindhu king.

“Attack Duryodhana!” shouted Krishna.

“It’s time to kill that wicked ill-wisher,

that greedy villain!”

“Drive on!” cried Arjuna,

remembering his cousin’s many wrongs.

Duryodhana jeered, “Come on, son of Pandu,

fight me if you dare! Show everyone

if this great prowess people talk about

is real heroism, or empty talk!”

Arjuna took aim and loosed his arrows

at Duryodhana, who stood there, laughing

as the shafts bounced harmlessly off his armor

time after time. Krishna was astonished.

Arjuna realized: “The villain’s armor

must have been tied onto him by Drona.

But I know a mantra that will make him

vulnerable again, a powerful weapon.”

He invoked that weapon, but before

it reached Duryodhana, it was deflected

by Drona, from a distance. If Arjuna

had invoked the weapon a second time

it would have killed his own troops, and himself.

Instead, he used his ordinary skill

to kill Duryodhana’s charioteer and horses

and smash his chariot. He then shot off

your son’s leather gauntlets, and pierced his hands.

Krishna blew his conch
Panchajanya
,

Arjuna gave a blast on
Devadatta
,

and the Kaurava forces stood stupefied.

Meanwhile Drona tried again to capture

Yudhishthira, but the king was whisked away

on Sahadeva’s chariot. Alambusha

now lusted to avenge his monstrous brother.

Ghatotkacha advanced to fight with him.

He plucked him from his chariot, whirled him round

as though he were a doll, and flung him down

onto the ground where, like a brittle pot,

he was dashed to fragments.

Yudhishthira

had picked up the sound of conches blown

by Krishna and Arjuna, and he was fearful

for their safety. He spoke to Satyaki,

consumed by anxiety, tears in his eyes,

and told him to go to Arjuna’s defense.

Satyaki, fast as lightning in the field,

was slow in his reactions otherwise.

Arjuna had told him to guard his brother

and guard Yudhishthira he must. Desperate,

Yudhishthira was forced to press him hard:

“Arjuna may be in mortal danger

floundering in an ocean of Kauravas!

You, Satyaki, have always been our mainstay,

second only to Krishna in weaponry.

You must obey me.” Satyaki was perplexed

since he owed obedience to Arjuna,

his teacher, just as he did to his leader;

and Arjuna had said . . . So the conundrum

went round and round in poor Satyaki’s mind.

At last, reluctant, he agreed to go,

but only after repeating once again

Arjuna’s parting words to him; and after

assuring Yudhishthira that Arjuna

was bound to be quite safe, and did not need

rescuing by him. “And another thing,

who will protect you from Drona while I’m gone?”

Yudhishthira assured him Dhrishtadyumna

and Bhima would be constantly at his side.

“Very well, I’ll go,” said Satyaki.

“Let no one think me slow to obey orders.

I have your interests constantly before me

as I do Arjuna’s. I’ll follow him

and battle by his side until he slaughters

Jayadratha. I shall scourge the Kauravas.

Like fire, I shall certainly destroy them.

But please arrange to have the proper weapons

placed in my chariot in the correct places—

in fact, let five times as many weapons

as usual be provided.” Then Satyaki

went to his tent and took a ritual bath,

changed his clothes, drank honey for energy,

gave gifts to brahmins to secure good fortune

and, saying goodbye to Yudhishthira,

was finally off. The sun was sinking fast.

Following the route blazed by Arjuna,

Satyaki sliced through the Kaurava lines,

killing hundreds. Again, he encountered Drona,

but wasted no time fighting him. Instead

he told his charioteer to find a passage

between the separate divisions led

by Drona and Karna.

Now he had set his mind

on his objective, all his mastery

and his celestial weapons came into play.

At one point he dueled with Duhshasana

but with restraint, remembering Bhima’s oath.

Duhshasana ran for Drona’s protection.

“Why are you fleeing from the fight, my son?”

asked Drona scornfully. “You were brave enough

when you insulted Draupadi. Where now

is your pride and insolence? What will you do

when you are up against real opposition,

faced with Arjuna the invincible?

If you are that frightened, urge your brother

to make a just peace with the Pandavas.”

Once again, Drona and Dhrishtadyumna

met in battle. They wounded each other badly,

but neither of them could get the upper hand.

Drona, white-haired, eighty-five years old,

fought like a youth. In fact, the rumor spread

that this was Indra himself, armed with thunder.

Yudhishthira was desperate to know

what was happening to Arjuna.

Again he heard Krishna’s conch, and was afraid—

suppose it meant his brother had been killed?

He said to Bhima, “I’m seeing Arjuna,

seeing him in my mind—his tall, straight form,

his shining hair and dark skin, his strong arms.

I cannot see his standard, so I fear

he has been overwhelmed. And Satyaki—

what has become of him? You, my Bhima,

must go and find out. Dhrishtadyumna here

can certainly protect me from abduction.”

Bhima set off, though with some reluctance,

and found that Arjuna was fighting strongly.

He uttered a great roar, and Yudhishthira,

hearing it, was reassured. Then Karna,

that hero endowed with preternatural skill,

desiring battle, his first formal duel

of the war, mounted an assault on Bhima.

What a fight that was! The two great warriors

fought differently—Karna graceful, subtle,

Bhima more dependent on sheer strength,

but accurate for all that. Each let loose

hundreds of arrows. Roaring still, Bhima

bisected Karna’s bow, then wounded him

with ten straight shafts. Seizing another bow,

Karna shot a lightning cascade of arrows.

Bhima blocked them. Then, with broad-headed shafts,

he killed Karna’s charioteer and horses,

and all the while he smiled and roared with pleasure.

Karna quickly mounted his son’s chariot

and fought on; but, mindful of the promise

he had made to Kunti, he fought with restraint.

Soon, the heroes were bristling with arrows

sticking out all over, like porcupines,

and blood flowed down over their golden mail,

rendering it coppery. They exchanged

insults: “You contemptible driver’s son!”

“Eunuch! You lumbering half-wit! You glutton!”

Seeing Karna hard pressed, Duryodhana

sent one of his brothers, Durjaya,

to support him. It was not long before

Bhima sliced his head from his body. Later,

after Karna had twice more had his chariot

smashed to bits beneath him, another brother,

Durmukha, came—and met with the same fate.

Then Duryodhana sent several more

of your sons, each of whom was felled

by the furious Bhima. Karna, grieving

and feeling responsible for all these deaths,

withdrew from the fighting for a while

and ritually walked around each body

out of respect for these fallen princes

who for years had been like his own brothers.

Dhritarashtra interrupted Sanjaya:

“Something in your tale is disturbing me.

Duryodhana pins all his hopes of victory

on Karna. This war was only started

because the driver’s son assured my boy

that he could annihilate the Pandavas.

But (as you have told me) he has promised

that he will not kill Kunti’s other sons,

only Arjuna. I am wondering, then,

how can Karna, with his heart divided,

act completely for Duryodhana’s good?

“But these things are beyond my comprehension.