THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (70 page)

So many of my friends and my brothers are dead: all those that wanted me to rule the earth. They died for my sake, as kshatriyas should. In this fleeting world, where everything is always dying, only honor matters. I will not sacrifice my honor to save my life and live in misery under another man’s yoke. Karna always said only honor was worth striving for, since only honor is immortal. If I die fighting on Kurukshetra, all my sins will be washed from me and I will have honor forever. A ksha-triya should die in battle, not of old age and sickness.

My mind is made up. My friends have given their lives for me and the only way I can repay the debt I owe them is to follow them out of this world. For my sake, Bheeshma lies dying. Drona has fallen for me and Karna, Jayadratha, all my brothers and millions more. Each of those deaths is an arrow in my heart. I must go to those who have died for me. The only thing that could have held me back is love for my kingdom. But when Karna died, the kingdom I meant to share with him lost its last attraction. I have enjoyed a kingdom for long enough and care nothing for it any more. How can I even dream of making peace with the Pandavas, after they have killed those who loved me? That would be ingratitude past forgiving.

No, death is my only way. You should not grieve for me. I am beyond caring for life, indeed, I am impatient to die. When Karna perished, my heart went with him. I am hardly alive any more; my life is a hollow thing without my friend. He was the noblest man that ever lived. I cannot live without him and all I want is to be with him again. Acharya, you cannot wish it on me to die in a sickbed, surrounded by wailing women. That is not the kshatriya’s way. Forgive me, but I cannot make peace with the Pandavas.”

Duryodhana falls silent. For just a moment, Kripa is sure he detects something like regret in the Kaurava’s voice: genuine regret that he cannot make peace with his cousins. The harshness and hatred have vanished from Duryodhana and the best in him seems to shine forth after what he has suffered on Kurukshetra. It is as if he is exorcised of all his demons; Kripa thinks sadly that of all the Kuru princes this one, as he is now, is the most lovable. Amazing gentleness sits on Duryodhana and Kripa sighs and says nothing more. There is still the war to be fought and they must choose a new Senapati to replace Karna.

TWO
TAMELESS SHALYA 

The Kaurava warriors have just finished their morning ablutions in the Saraswati, colored by dawn. Their bodies burn as if with fever and the night-chilled water hardly refreshes them. Duryodhana comes to the river and calls Aswatthama. “You are the wisest of us, my friend
¹
. Tell me, whom should I make our Senapati?”

Without hesitation Aswatthama says, “Shalya. He is powerful and experienced and he is devoted to you. At last count, we still outnumber the Pandava army. With Shalya as our general, we can win this war even now.”

Duryodhana approaches Shalya, who has just finished worshipping the sun and is wading out of the golden river. The Kaurava folds his hands and says humbly, “I beg you, be master of the Kuru army. Hope is not lost, my lord, you must lead us to victory.”

Shalya says, “Yesterday, before he died, Karna asked me what I would do if he were killed. I said to him he could not be killed; but if he was, I would avenge him by killing Krishna and Arjuna.” He chokes, “He was the best man I ever knew and I must keep my word to him. Shalya is a kshatriya, Duryodhana; even Arjuna will not stand against me. I will either win this war for you yet, or die try
ⁱⁿ
g.

Shalya is given the ceremonial bath and made Senapati of the Kaurava army. Some semblance of hope returns to Duryodhana’s legions and they shout Shalya’s name and blow their conches and beat their drums to embolden themselves. Across Kurukshetra, Yudhishtira hears the sounds and says, “They have made Shalya their Senapati. He has never been defeated in battle, how will we face him?”

Krishna says, “Shalya
²
is formidable. In some ways, he is more of a warrior than Bheeshma, Drona or Karna. He is a powerful archer and he fights with the mace as well as Bheema. Then, there is something else about him, a thing of fate and not Bheema, Arjuna, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, Nakula or Sahadeva can kill him. Shalya’s death is written at the hands of only one kshatriya in the Pandava army.”

“Who is he, Krishna?”

Krishna smiles, “Why, you, Yudhishtira. Forget he is Sahadeva and Nakula’s uncle; you must kill him if this war is to end. Dharma is with you, you will not fail.”

Shalya deploys Duryodhana’s dwindled legions in a complex vyuha. At its hub, he collects the few maharathikas that remain: Kripa, Aswatthama, Shakuni, Kritavarman, Duryodhana and the handful of his brothers that Bheema has left alive. Before they ride out to battle, they confer among themselves and Shalya decides, “We will not fight duels, if we can help it. Each man will fight for the others and they for him. We will attack the Pandavas together and try and kill them all at once.”

It is the eighteenth day of the dharma yuddha. The conches echo yet again and the two hosts fall at each other. Seventeen fearsome days of battle have whittled both armies. When the war began, Duryodhana had a hundred thousand chariots, seventeen thousand elephants, two hundred thousand horses and six million footsoldiers; and the Pandavas had sixty thousand chariots, six thousand elephants, a hundred thousand horses and four million footsoldiers. Now those numbers are a few thousands each: of chariots, horse, elephant and some more thousands of footsoldiers, at most.

When the Pandavas see Shalya has gathered all his best warriors at the center of his vyuha, they divide their army in three phalanxes, with Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi and Satyaki leading one each. At the head of his army today and leading all the rest, rides Yudhishtira, impatient to kill Shalya. Nakula and Sahadeva ride at his chariot-wheels.

Dashing Kritavarman breaks on the Pandava lines and only Arjuna can face the Yadava. Bheema comes up against Kripa. However, these encounters do not develop into prolonged duels. The Kau-rava warriors wheel away from any Pandava who challenges them for too long and they ride quickly to help one another.

Yudhishtira and Shalya fight the only real duel and the Pandava finds Shalya implacable, more than he can endure. Seeing his brother pressed hard, Bheema rides to his side. Meanwhile, Karna’s son, Chitrasena and Nakula face each other. Chitrasena fights with some of his father’s valor, but Karna’s death has made him sadder than the youth can bear. At one point, he smashes Nakula’s chariot with a volley reminiscent of Karna’s finest. Nakula leaps down in fury, his sword drawn and rushes at the bewildered Chitrasena. Before the prince can recover from his surprise, Nakula springs up on to his chariot, seizes his nephew by his hair and cuts his throat.

The slain prince’s brothers, Sushena and Satyasena, attack Nakula. But the Pandava’s blood is up and he kills them both in moments, with exact arrows. Seeing Shalya beset by all the Pandavas now, Kripa, Kritavarman, Shakuni and Aswatthama fly to his side. Kritavarman strikes Bheema deep in his chest, so he staggers back, the mace falling from his hand.

Acharya Kripa severs Dhrishtadyumna’s bowstring, from far away and Aswatthama easily holds up Nakula and Sahadeva. Only Yudhishtira fights the grand Shalya again. When Bheema falters briefly in his chariot, Kritavarman kills his horses. Growling, Bheema leaps down from his ratha, mace in hand and runs at Kritavarman. He strikes the Yadava’s horses down so they fall without a sound. He is too close to shoot at with arrows and Kritavarman jumps down behind his chariot and runs.

The smoldering Bheema turns on Shalya again. He smashes down the Kaurava Senapati’s white horses. With a roar, Shalya hurls a javelin at him. Bheema dances aside and catches the hurtling lance in flight. Quick as thinking, he turns and flings it back at Shalya’s sarathy, so the man falls off his chariot-head to avoid being transfixed.

Shalya seizes up his mace and leaps down to the ground to face Bheema. Mace rings against mace and the titans are covered in sparks. Kurukshetra quakes. The battle all around them pauses, as the soldiers come to watch. The two fight on with elemental blows and it seems neither will prevail. Then, both Bheema and Shalya find a gap in each other’s defenses, at the same moment, with seismic strokes: each is knocked unconscious by the other’s blow!

Kripa swoops on the fallen Shalya, lifts him into his chariot and rides away. Bheema lies where he fell, for a while. Then his eyes flutter open. He takes a moment to recall where he is and jumps up with a roar, the mace still in his hand, “Shalya! I am not finished with you. Come and fight!”

He is comical, standing there so fierce, while his opponent has gone; some laughter breaks out around him, some relief in the relentless horror.

Elsewhere, Shalya mounts a new chariot and rides back to battle. Now he fights twice as ferociously as before, as if being knocked unconscious by Bheema has roused him. There are notably few duels today. Instead, the kshatriyas all concentrate on attacking the enemy army and killing as many men as they can. From a boundless theater for heroic duels, the war becomes a contention of fading numbers. The Kaurava Senapati, Shalya, is untameable. Watching him, hope flickers up again in Duryodhana that he may still win this war.

For the other side, Satyaki fights as boldly and Dhrishtadyumna is awesome. Bheema and Arjuna are quenchless, as well and no one can contain them. But nobody burns as brilliantly as Shalya today and Yudhishtira is anxious. If the Kaurava Senapati is allowed to continue, the already reduced Pan-dava army will evaporate entirely. Yudhishtira mutters to himself, ‘Can Krishna be wrong?’ He shakes his head. ‘No, Krishna is never wrong. I must kill him myself.’

Yudhishtira sees Sahadeva and Nakula flit to Bheema’s side. He sees Shalya hold them off, easily, while killing a hundred Pandava soldiers. Yudhishtira sees Aswatthama ride against Arjuna and cover Krishna’s chariot in a web of silver shafts. His chest heaving, he sounds his conch to call his brothers off the field.

They come at once and he says to them, “Krishna says that only I can kill Shalya; and so I will, or die trying. Satyaki, my friend, guard my right wheel. Dhrishtadyumna, watch my left. Bheema, you ride before me and Arjuna you come after me.”

Flanked by four majestic kshatriyas, Yudhishtira comes to kill Shalya. A duel develops. As if he senses death near him, Shalya is more than magnificent. He looks like Saturn duelling with the Moon. But it is Yudhishtira who surprises everyone. His lips pursed, his eyes flaming, he is like Indra come down to Kurukshetra. Soon after they begin, Yudhishtira ruins Shalya’s chariot with a smoking volley. Fortunately for that king, the Kauravas have gathered around him and quickly he is back in another chariot, fighting more powerfully than ever.

Still, Yudhishtira takes everyone’s breath away. Five times he snaps Shalya’s bowstring and then, once, strikes him with a torrent of arrows, so that king swoons; his horses are killed and his banner cut down. Luckily, Aswatthama is near and whisks him from the field. When Shalya is away Bheema straddles Kurukshetra, killing a thousand men. The fighting spreads out again. All around Bheema ring the roars and screams of those that kill and are killed.

When he recovers, Shalya rides back into battle for the last time. He makes straight for Yudhish-tira. He rakes the Pandava with a hundred arrows, in a moment. The serene Yudhishtira replies with nine perfect shafts, which disjoint Shalya’s armor so it falls away. Shalya cracks the Pandava’s bow. Next moment he, too, cuts away Yudhishtira’s golden armor and kills his horses. Flying up just then, Kripa kills Yudhishtira’s sarathy.

Bheema is at hand to protect his precious brother. He breaks Shalya’s bow, kills his horses with a terrific volley and his sarathy by flinging his mace at the man’s head. Undaunted, Shalya draws his sword, picks up his shield and leaps out of his broken chariot. He runs straight at Yudhishtira, whose death can still win the war for Duryodhana. Dhrishtadyumna, Satyaki and Shikhandi surround Shalya, so he cannot escape and no Kaurava warrior can rescue him. No thought of escape crosses Shalya’s mind, he runs wildly at the Pandava king.

Bheema smashes his sword and blows his shield to bits. Shalya stands briefly surprised and defenseless. Then he charges Yudhishtira again, with bare hands now. Not pausing to think, Yudhish-tira finds himself reaching for a silver, jewel-studded lance beside him. He casts it at the Kaurava Senapati, as Karttikeya once did his spear of agni. It pierces Shalya’s chest like a serpent flashing into its hole. He falls with his arms spread wide, as if he embraced the earth, one last time, before he left her. With an echoing roar, Shalya dies.

THREE
THE LAST MEN 

When their king dies, Shalya’s legion breaks away from the rest of the Kaurava army and rushes at the Pandavas. Duryodhana cries to them to wait, they must all fight together. They will not listen. Yudhishtira and his triumphant kshatriyas pick Shalya’s men off easily and yet another Kaurava legion perishes.

Panic takes the other Kaurava soldiers. Their nerve gone, they turn to run. Duryodhana looms behind them in his chariot and speaks to them in a voice like the sea. “Is it from death that you flee? Death will hunt you down anyway, whether in war or in peace. It is better to die as heroes and find heaven, my friends. Why do you fear these Pandavas? I will show you how to win this war. Ride with me and victory shall be ours!”