BOOK FIVE
AUM, I bow down to Narayana, the most exalted Nara and to the Devi Saraswathi and say Jaya\
ONE
The morning after the wedding, all the kshatriyas gathered in Virata’s sabha to discuss their other purpose. Being elders Drupada and Virata sat at the head of that council; beside Drupada sat Balarama and Satyaki. Yudhishtira and Krishna sat next to Virata. Draupadi’s sons were there, five young lions, with their fathers and uncles: Bheema, Arjuna, Nakula and Sahadeva. Krishna’s sons were there, too, Pradyumna and Samba. Abhimanyu sat between Arjuna and Krishna.
The sabha got underway. At first, there was some polite chat, mainly about the wedding. When everyone had taken his place, Krishna rose to speak and silence fell.
The Dark One said, “There is no one here who does not know that perfidy sent the Pandavas into exile; we all know about the game of dice and how Shakuni cheated Yudhishtira. Yudhishtira lost his kingdom, his wealth, his army, everything he owned, not on the field of battle but at a low game where he never stood any chance of winning. Thirteen years the Pandavas and Draupadi spent in the wilderness like beggars.
Though Yudhishtira could have crushed Duryodhana in war and taken back what was his, he never did so. Though many of us urged him to take arms against his cousin and promised him our support. As kings yourselves, you might imagine the ordeal of the Pandavas and their queen in the wilderness. Now their exile is over and the sons of Pandu are back with us. We have met here today to decide what they should do next.
For myself, I urged Yudhishtira thirteen years ago to kill the Kauravas and take the entire Kuru kingdom. Duryodhana and his brothers deserve to die for what they did. Yudhishtira is a man of dharma; not for me would he abandon what he thought was just. Even now, after all that he and his family have endured, this saintly man speaks only of peace. He speaks of dharma still.”
Krishna paused and you could hear the morning breeze murmuring in the trees outside, for the silence in that sabha. He resumed, “We know nothing of what Duryodhana intends. I, for one, feel he will never give anything back to his cousins: that, already, he is preparing for war. But Yudhishtira insists we must ask him formally if he will return half the Kuru kingdom; half only, though to my mind the whole kingdom belongs to the Pandavas, since Pandu conquered most of the lands the Kurus rule today. Yudhishtira does not want war. He does not want bloodshed, but peace.
I think we should send a messenger to Hastinapura and ask for half the kingdom. But first, let us hear what the rest of us have to say.”
Krishna sat down, unaccustomedly solemn today and for once, unsmiling. After a moment’s pause, Balarama rose. Wearing resonant blue silk, he towered over the sabha. “My brother has spoken impartially. He spoke of Yudhishtira’s dharma and, I am happy to note, said little that disparaged Duryodhana.”
Krishna had some idea of what was coming. His brother could hardly resist taking a different position from him, if for no other reason than that it was different.
Ponderously, Balarama continued, “Krishna says the Pandavas want only half the Kuru kingdom. Now this is noble of them and I think Dhritarashtra’s sons should be grateful. It is just the course to take to avoid a war. I agree that we should send an honorable messenger to Hastinapura to ask for half the kingdom.”
Krishna was a little perplexed; his brother seemed to be endorsing every word he himself had said. Balarama was only warming up. “The messenger should go to Hastinapura with his mission clear in his mind: to pacify Duryodhana. He must greet Bheeshma, Dhritarashtra, Drona, Aswatthama, Vidura and Kripa decorously.”
There was some murmuring at this. However, Balarama went on, impervious, “He must speak respectfully to Shakuni and Karna and be the soul of courtesy to Duryodhana and his brothers. He must submit Yudhishtira’s plea humbly in Hastinapura.”
By now, there were loud noises of dissent in the sabha and Krishna glanced at Arjuna with a twinkle in his eye. Balarama held up his hands to silence the protests. He said, “Duryodhana must not be provoked or antagonized, or all hope of peace will be lost! For, let me tell you, Duryodhana was not solely to blame for what happened. What about Yudhishtira’s part in the gambling? Should an emperor gamble away everything he owns, his brothers and his wife? There is no excuse for what Yudhishtira did. He was foolish.
I have heard the Kauravas repeatedly tried to persuade him not to play. But he would not listen to them.”
A shocked silence had fallen. No one spoke out of respect for Krishna and for Balarama himself. Balarama mistook the silence for approval, while his brother sat smiling openly now.
Balarama ploughed on. “Yudhishtira is a notoriously bad dice-player. Yet, he must play. There were a hundred players in Hastinapura as bad as himself. Why did he choose to play Shakuni, who is the best player on earth? Yudhishtira is obstinate. Repeatedly, Shakuni beat him, but he would not stop. Again and again, Shakuni asked him if he hadn’t lost enough. Yudhishtira would not accept defeat. He played on, until he had lost even himself.
But how can Duryodhana or Shakuni be blamed if Yudhishtira insisted on losing everything he had to them?” He paused. He was not a natural speaker and fumbled for words. Yudhishtira had grown tense, but managed a rueful smile from time to time. Most of the sabha realized why Balarama was speaking like this: he had certainly heard a very special version of the game of dice from Duryo-dhana, whom he still doted on.
Quite oblivious of the effect his words were having, Balarama continued, “And since Duryodhana cannot be blamed for what Yudhishtira brought upon himself, we must be careful that our messenger speaks in a conciliatory manner to the Kauravas. I say we must prevent war at all costs. Our messenger must be a soft-spoken man, a master of diplomacy.”
Yudhishtira still said nothing, but the line of his jaw was tight and there was hurt in his eyes. Balarama had not finished, but before he could say any more Satyaki jumped up in rage, “A man’s words mirror his heart! There have always been both brave men and cowards in this world and all men are one or the other. Why, both types are found in the same family. From the same tree, grow branches that are either fruitful or barren. Yet, O Balarama, I am not as upset by what you say as by the silence of these others that let you speak without protest. Your foolish words are like arrows in the Pandavas’ hearts and you still haven’t finished!”
Satyaki had a powerful voice and he was an orator when roused. “I don’t see how anyone can think for a moment that Yudhishtira is to blame for what happened in Hastinapura thirteen years ago. And I cannot bear to listen to you accuse this saint among men, as casually as you do. How, my lord, do you say Yudhishtira had any choice in the game of dice? As a kshatriya could he refuse to play? Did they play in Indraprastha, where the game might have been fair? Isn’t it clear the game of dice was a plot hatched by Duryodhana and Shakuni?”
Satyaki was shaking and drew a breath to calm himself. “And now, hasn’t Yudhishtira served every last day of his exile and some more besides, from what I hear? Why should he send a humble messenger or a conciliatory message to that monster? Isn’t this the Kuru kingdom we are talking of, most of which Yudhishtira’s father conquered and his brothers much of the rest? Why should Yudhishtira beg for it? Why should he be anxious about annoying Duryodhana?
Balarama, even if Yudhishtira were in the wrong, there is no need for him to placate Duryodhana; and Yudhishtira is far from being in the wrong. To keep his word he has spent thirteen years in the jungle. You will not find another man like him on this earth; he is as noble as Rama was.
Since you exonerate Duryodhana so completely, I ask you to consider the message Dhritarashtra’s son sent from Hastinapura. We have seen Arjuna before the ajnatavasa was over. You must go back into exile for another twelve years.’ Do you say, Balarama, this is what a loving cousin does?
You have a unique picture of what happened in Hastinapura on the day of the gambling: one so far removed from the truth that it is laughable. You never mentioned how Vidura begged Duryodhana to relent and return the Pandavas’ kingdom to them. But your favorite sishya would not! Was it part of Duryodhana’s dharma, also, that Draupadi was dragged into the Kuru sabha and Dusasana tried to strip her naked? My lord, there must be some limit to your fatuousness!”
Satyaki turned to Yudhishtira, “Send me as your messenger to Hastinapura. I will speak to that devil in the only language he will understand: the tongue of burning arrows. I will bring him to your feet, Yudhishtira, or I will kill them all, the cowards!”
He paused, as if a more attractive idea struck him. “And if it is war they want, why should we be afraid of them? Who in this world can stand against Arjuna and Krishna, or this Satyaki? Who will face Bheema? When Nakula and Sahadeva take the field, which Kaurava will ride against them? Who will fight Shikhandi and Dhrishtadyumna? How will they contain Gada, Samba and Pradyumna? Which of them will face Abhimanyu?
Our enemies are rotted soft with the sins moldering in their hearts. How will they stand against the forces of dharma? We all know Duryodhana. He will never give back the kingdom and I think gentle Yudhishtira knows this as well as any man here. Why should our emperor, for whom we are all ready to die, demean himself with an obsequious message to a serpent who has always done his best to destroy him and his family?
No! Yudhishtira should send word to Duryodhana that he must return what no longer belongs to him, at once, or prepare to meet death on the field of battle.”
Satyaki sat down with a final glower at Balarama. The sabha burst into loud applause. Yudhishtira smiled gratefully at the young Yadava. Krishna had an inscrutable and, now, rather faraway look in his eyes. The time had come for an elder to speak and Drupada rose. “What Satyaki says has the ring of truth. Duryodhana will never give back the kingdom without war; most likely, he already prepares for it. Dhritarashtra will stand with his son. Shakuni and Karna are with him. Bheeshma and Drona will be foolish if they take his part, but it is not impossible we find they do.
I differ with Balarama today. We must not send a humble message to Duryodhana; he must not think we are afraid of him. If there is any hope of his returning the kingdom without war, it is if he fears us. An animal like him does not understand gentleness or dharma, only violence and fear. We must send a messenger to Hastinapura; but he must carry our word in strength, not weakness.”
There were noises of approval from the council. Drupada went on, “But, to my mind, sending an ambassador to Hastinapura is not our most pressing concern. In all likelihood, our enemies already prepare themselves for war and so must we. Let word go out to all the kings of the earth who will ally themselves to us. I am an old man and I have some instinct for history. I sense a horrible war, formed like a fetus, growing in the womb of time and its birth drawn very near. A war such as this earth has never seen: a war between dharma and adharma, good and evil, for the right to rule the world. Let us not deceive ourselves with foolish hopes, but be well prepared.
There is an old saying that a kshatriya always agrees to support the man who goes to him first. We must not lose any allies because Duryodhana sent word to them before we did. Yudhishtira, this very day, let your messengers ride to the courts of Shalya, Dhrishtaketu and Jayatsena. Let the loyal Kekaya brothers not feel we have left them out of our deliberations. Let Bhagadatta be told of our plans and the hundred other kings we know1. We must not underestimate Duryodhana. He is so charming he can turn our best friends against us, if we don’t make sure they are firmly on our side before he reaches them.”
Drupada glanced pointedly at Balarama. Drupada’s daughter had been humiliated in Hastinapura; she had been exiled. The Panchala king loved Draupadi more than his life. He would not rest until Duryodhana was dead. “Let me send my family priest as our messenger to Hastinapura. He is a wise and distinguished man and used to dealing with kings. He will not be cowed by the opulence of Duryodhana’s court, or cringe before the Kurus. Tell him what message to carry to Dhritarashtra, Bheeshma, Drona, Duryodhana and the others and he will deliver it without dishonoring the sender.”
Smiling, Krishna rose again. “Drupada speaks wisely, though he speaks on the part of the Panda-vas; and that is natural, since his daughter is their wife. I agree with what he says. But I must make one thing clear: the Yadavas are keen to see Yudhishtira’s kingdom restored peacefully to him. Strange though it may sound, I see the Pandavas and the Kauravas with equal eyes. I have no doubt that Bheeshma and Dhritarashtra, Drona, Kripa and Vidura will listen attentively to Drupada’s messenger.
We came here for Abhimanyu’s wedding. We are grateful to Virata that he has honored us by giving his lovely daughter to our nephew. The wedding is over and it is time we went back to Dwaraka. We hope Drupada’s wisdom will prevail upon Duryodhana and his elders and there will be peace again between the Kuru cousins.”
Balarama, who sat crushed by what Satyaki and Drupada had said, breathed a sigh of relief. Unpredictable as ever, Krishna had not turned against his brother in public, whatever he might have felt about his views.
Krishna turned to Yudhishtira, “If Duryodhana doesn’t see reason, if he is determined to have war, send for us and we will come to fight for you. We shall see how they face Arjuna and Bheema away from the dice-board!”
On that note, the sabha in Upaplavya concluded. Virata bid farewell to his guests, sending them home with many precious gifts. Krishna and Balarama left with the Yadava army and went back to Dwaraka, Balarama rather chastened and Krishna with a growing instinct of the war that plunged ever closer along the maze of time. The Dark One also had a premonition of a piquant choice that would soon confront him in his ocean-city, the prospect of which he quite relished.
Yudhishtira and Virata began to prepare in earnest for war. They sent messengers abroad, to kingdoms far and near, to warn their allies of the impending war and enlist their support. News of this traveled swiftly to Duryodhana and he, too, sent his own envoys to powerful kings who were his friends.
Soon, armies on the move covered the earth. Some went to the Matsya kingdom to join the Pandavas, while others marched to Hastinapura to be part of Duryodhana’s legions. And surely, the greater number went to the Kuru capital; for in those days, Duryodhana was at the height of his influence and power.