THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 (93 page)

The Devas bring Yudhishtira to the banks of the Ganga, flowing through heaven in her celestial form. The Pandava bathes in her waters of light and she takes his mortal body from him, like a worn set of clothes. He rises in glory, a king of Devaloka. With Indra and the others, Yudhishtira comes back to Amravati, to its incomparable sabha. First of all, he sees Krishna on the loftiest throne, with Arjuna beside him and all the Yadavas around them. They rise to receive Yudhishtira.

Yudhishtira sees his brother Karna sitting among the twelve Adityas, all sons of Surya. He sees his brother Bheema, his body a swirling air; he sits amidst the Maruts, who are Vayu’s magnificent people. Nakula and Sahadeva are with their fathers, the brilliant Aswin twins. Then, sweeping the sabha, Yudhishtira’s gaze finds Draupadi. She wears a garland of undying lotuses and she is a great flame in that court; all her sons surround her. Her brother Dhrishtadyumna sits not far from her, with rutilant Agni, the Fire God: their father. Yudhishtira sees Abhimanyu, seated beside the glowing Moon, luminous Soma Deva. The Pandava sees Bheeshma among the Vasus and Drona at Brihaspati’s side. He sees his uncle Vidura, now a lord of heaven beside Dharma Deva. In joy, he sees his father Pandu and Kunti and Madri
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His brothers rise and come to welcome Yudhishtira. Karna also rises; and with them comes another familiar figure, his body luculent, kindness and grace in his eyes and his face wreathed in a smile. It is Duryodhana, who is also a king in Devaloka. Now Yudhishtira feels no twinge of resentment and embraces his cousin just as he does his brothers.

Indra, Lord of the Devas, presents Yudhishtira, the Pandava, in his sabha in Devaloka: Yudhishtira who is Dharma’s son and the very soul of truth.

PHALASRUTI 

Dark Krishna was the eighth Avatara of the Lord Vishnu, who lies upon eternal waters. He was born into the world to cleanse it of the tide of evil that darkened the age. He came to establish dharma on earth again. The Devas Indra, Vayu, Dharma and the Aswins were also born into the world, in amsa, as the sons of Pandu: to fight at Krishna’s side. The earth was purified because these Gods walked upon her. And at the war on the cusp of the ages, the seed of dharma was sown in holy ground made fertile by the blood of the kshatriya.

Once their lives’ purpose was accomplished, the Pandavas left the world and were absorbed again into their fathers in heaven, the Lords of light. Most of all, the earth was enriched forever that blue Krishna walked upon her for a brief human life.

The legend of the Pandavas, the Mahabharata, the tale of the war on the crack of two yugas, is an immortal story. As long as the earth lives, as long as the sun and moon light the sky and there is even a spark of goodness in men’s hearts, this legend of the sons of Pandu will be told in the world. It is a sacred epic, a tale of truth and whoever reads or hears it will have their sins washed away and their hearts made pure. They will finally come to the blessed realm of Mahavishnu, who lies on the serpent, Anantasesha, upon the Kshirasagara, ocean of eternity and of bliss.

AUM SHANTI SHANTI SHANTI! AUM SHANTIHI AUM!

APPENDIX
 

BOOK 5. Udyoga Parva.

1.   The names of some of those kings: Hardikya, Ahuka, the king of the Mallas, Rochamana, Bri-hanta, Senabindu, Baahlika, Mudrakesa, Suparshva, Subahu, Paurava, the kings of the Sakas, the Pahlavas and the Daradas, Surari, Nadija, Karnavest, Nila, Viradharman, Durjaya, Dantavakra, Rukmi, Janamejaya, Ashada, Vayuvega, Purvapali, Bhooritejas, Devaka, Ekalaya and his sons, the Krausha king, Kshemamurti, the Kamboja and Richaka kings, the kings of Kashi, the Sindhu, the son of Kratha, the mountain kings, Jananki, Susarman, Maniman, Potimatsyaka, Dhrishtaketu, the Pansu king, Paundra, Dandadhara, Brihatsena, Aparajita, Srenimat, Nishada, Vasumat, Brihadbala, Bahu, Samudrasena, Uddhava, Kshemaka, Vatadhana, Srutayus, Dridayus, the son of Shalva, the Kalinga kings and Kumara.

2.   This is another incident Karna relates to describe his relationship with Duryodhana. This is from Tamil folklore.

Duryodhana and Karna are so close that Karna has access to Duryodhana’s harem and his wife’s inner apartments.

One day, Karna is playing dice with Duryodhana’s wife and she is losing to him. Suddenly, Duryodhana enters the private chamber. Karna has his back to the door, while Duryodhana’s wife is facing it…She sees Duryodhana and gets up.

Karna has not seen him yet and saying, ‘You can’t leave just because you are losing!’ pulls her wife to sit down again. Accidentally, he breaks her string of pearls.

She is embarrassed and confused, lest Duryodhana misunderstand this intimacy. She stands shaken and unsure. Duryodhana calmly comes up to them and says…the Tamil version is ‘Cherkkava, Korkkava?’ which means, ‘Shall I join your game, or string the pearls?’

When, just before the war, Kunti begs Karna to join the Pandavas, telling him he is their brother, this is one of the stories he relates to tell her to say that he could never abandon Duryodhana, who trusted him so completely and was closer than any brother to him.

BOOK 6. Bheeshma Parva.

1. Vyasa describes some of the sinister omens seen, which presage an unthinkable slaughter and the end of kshatriya kind. He is speaking to Dhritarashtra.

‘Great will be the slaughter, O King. I see so many dreadful omens. Hawks, vultures, cranes, crows and herons, swarm in the branches of the trees around Kurukshetra, delighted at the prospect of war. Carnivores of every kind teem in the woods and will feast upon the flesh of elephants and horses. Other birds of ill omen wheel in dense flocks in the sky, drifting south and utter terrible cries.

At dawn and dusk, I see the face of the sun covered with the headless trunks of fighting men. At both sandhyas cloud of three colors, shaped like maces, cover the sun. At night, the moon and the stars seem to take fire and burn above. Even on the fifteenth night of the bright fortnight of Kartika, the full moon was either invisible of the color of fire and the sky the hue of a lotus.

All night I hear the savage cries of fighting boars and cats. Surely, numberless heroes will perish during the war.

In temples, the idols of the Gods and Goddesses laugh dementedly at times, then tremble. Often, the vomit blood, sweats, or even fall down. Without being beaten, great drums sound of themselves; without horses being yoked to them kshatriyas; chariots move on their own.

At dawn, thick insect swarms cover the morning sky, obscuring the first light. Strange clouds appear suddenly and rain down showers of dust and pieces of flesh. The peerless Arundhati, renowned for her dharma, flies ahead of her lord Vasishta. Saturn, Shanaishchara afflicts the asterism Rohini. The deer upon the face of the Moon has strayed from his customary place. Thunder echoes in a perfectly clear sky and lightning flashes.

The cows and horses in their sheds and stables cry all day and night. Cows bring forth baby donkeys. Trees in the forest are laden with unseasonable flowers and fruit. Lotuses and lilies grow from trees! Women, both pregnant and not, give birth to hideous children, monsters. Animals, too, bring forth dreadful offspring—some with three horns, some four-eyed, some with two heads or five legs, some with two tails or phalluses. All these are born with gaping mouths, uttering profane cries.

Crested horses are being born, many of them with just three legs, but horned.

In your city, Dhritarashtra, the wives of brahmanas are giving birth to eaglets and peacocks. The mare brings forth the calf of the cow and the bitch brings forth jackals or the cockerel. Deer and parrots give ceaseless throat to the weirdest cries and songs.

Some women give birth to four and five daughters, together and these children sing, laugh and dance as soon as they are born. All those beyond the pale of the four varnas are celebrant—the scavengers and the lowest of the lowborn, as if in delight at the age of chaos that is dawning over the world.

The smallest infants attack one another with wooden clubs and are full of violence: as if Death sits on their hearts. Powerful winds blow without pause and earthquakes are felt in every kingdom. Taking his position between Chitra and Swati, Rahu creeps upon the Sun and the white planet Ketu, mixing fire and smoke, having passed the constellation of Chitra, stays where he is and attacks Jye-shta, which is sacred to Indra. A fiery comet, big as a planet, has risen to afflict Pushyami. Mars wheels at Magha and Jupiter toward Shravana. The Sun’s child Saturn approaches the sign Bhaga, afflicting it. Shukra glitters brilliantly, rising toward Purva Bhadra and gazes across at Uttara Bhadra, wheeling in his direction.

Dhruva blazes, no longer stationary but spinning to the right. The Sun and Moon both afflict Rohini. Red Mars, Mangala, aligns himself with Shravana and Brihaspati, Jupiter, there.

Our sacred earth has burst forth in a plethora of crops of every season. Every stalk of barley has five ears and each one of paddy, a hundred. Cows yield only blood, when milked after the calves have drunk.

Bows and swords burn with uncanny light, without being touched—as if they already behold the war that is before them. The color of water, weapons and armor is of fire. Ah, a great massacre will happen and the earth will flow a frothing river of blood with the standards of kshatriyas for its rafts.

The mandala of the Saptarishi is dim in the sky, as if in deep sorrow. For a whole year Saturn and Jupiter have entered Vishaka and stood unmoving there. Extraordinary eclipses, of both Sun and Moon and bizarre lunation, out of time—3 full moons in a fortnight—have been seen, frequently. The four quarters and the intermediate directions all seem inauspicious, with filthy clouds of dust risen.

Some midnight clouds appear in a moment and pour down rains of blood. Rivers run blood mingled with water in their banks. Rakshasas drink from them and are not sated. Deep natural wells bellow like bulls.

Ferocious and savage Rahu constantly afflicts Krittika, too. What else but a great slaughtering can all these omens portend? The rishis all say the Earth will drink the blood of thousands of kings and their hosts.

Kailasa and Mandara echo with strange explosions and swollen by submarine quakes, the oceans appear ready to break their shores and sweep across the continents. The howling winds that blow bear tiny pebbles, like hails of darts. Lightning strikes trees, great and small, in exceptional numbers, reducing them to pillars of ash.

Sacrificial fires burn blue, crimson or yellow, when libations are poured into them. Their flames bend to the left, give off a fecal stench and loud reports, sending sparks flying. Human senses seem to decay, change their very nature—touch, smell and taste have become what they were not.’ 2. Here is the hymn with which Arjuna worships the Goddess Durga, before his moment of crisis on Kurukshetra, before the war begins.

Arjuna said, ‘I bow to you, Queen of yogins, who are one with the Brahman, who dwell in the Mandara forest, who are free from ageing and decay, O Kali, consort of the Kapalin, you who are black and red.

I worship you, who bless your bhaktas, O Mahakaali, wife of the destroyer of the universe, proud one, who save from every danger and who own every auspicious quality.

You sprang from the Kata race, you that deserve the highest worship, fierce One, bestower of victory, O Victory personified, with the banner of peacock plumes, wearing every invaluable ornament, who bear the dreadful spear, with the sword and the shield, who are the younger sister of the chief of the cowherds, Eldest, who love quaffing the blood of the buffalo, born in the race of Kushika, who wear yellow robes.

I worship you that have devoured demons, by assuming a great wolf’s face. I bow to you who love battle! O Uma, Shakambari, you are white, Gauri, then black again, Kali. You slew the Demon Kaitabha. You have yellow eyes, you have many eyes, you have eyes the color of smoke and I worship you.

You are the Vedas, the Srutis and the highest dharma. You bless brahmanas that perform yagnas. You know the past and you dwell in all the sacred shrines built to you in every city in Jambudwipa. Ah, I adore you, Devi! Among sciences, you are the science of the Brahman and you are the sleep of beings, from which there is no waking.

Mother of Skanda, you own the six loftiest attributes. Durga, who dwell everywhere, in the most accessible places, you are Swaha, Swadha, Kala, Kashta, Saraswathi, Savitri mother of the Vedas. You are the Vedanta, too.

With my heart clear, I bow again to you, O incomparable Goddess—I beg you let victory always ride with me during this war. You dwell in the most difficult and dangerous places, where there is fear, in the homes of your bhaktas and in patala. You are she that always slays the danavas.

You are unconsciousness, sleep, illusion, modesty and everything that is beautiful in all creatures. You are the twilight, you are the day, you are Savitri and you are the Mother. You are contentment, you are growth and you are light. You support the Sun and the Moon and make them shine. You are the prosperity of the prosperous. The siddhas and charanas seek and find you in dhyana.’

The boon-giving Devi Durga appeared before Arjuna and blessed him, ‘Soon you will vanquish your enemies, Pandava. Invincible one, Narayana himself is your sarathy and not Indra himself can defeat you in battle.’

And the glorious Mother vanished.