Drupada’s Priest in Hastinapur
As decided by the Pandavas, Drupada’s priest presented himself in Hastinapur as their envoy. Dhritarashtra granted the Brahmin the recognition and veneration due to him.
Then the envoy addressed the king and his allies in a voice that was more stern than deferential.
‘As you all know, I am here to speak on behalf of Yudhishthira, who seeks nothing but peace. That is the crux of the matter. Everyone is aware that both Dhritarashtra and the late King Pandu had the same father, Vichitravirya. It is, therefore, indisputable that the entire kingdom should be equally shared between Yudhishthira, who is the eldest son of Pandu, and Duryodhana.
‘So all that my king wants is that Indraprastha be restored to him, now that he has completed the full cycle of his exile, nothing more. He seeks it through peace, not war. Yudhishthira, as you all know, is committed to dharma, love and amity. But his plea should not be misconstrued as a sign of weakness. Let me, therefore, make it clear that if pushed to do so, he is capable of fighting for his birthright. Still, he is keen to avoid a war that would bring disaster and destruction to both sides. Therefore it is up to King Dhritarashtra and the elders here to bring Duryodhana to reason. This, in brief, is the essence of my mission.’
As he finished speaking, Bheeshma rose to respond. ‘What King Yudhishthira’s emissary has just conveyed to this court is indisputable, even though the envoy does not seem to be well schooled in diplomatic courtesy. Still, I am sure King Dhritarashtra will take the right decision in this matter.’
But before the king could say anything, Radheya sprang to his feet.
‘Enough of preaching about truth and justice by this Brahmin! I would not like to repeat the story known to everyone that it was Yudhishthira’s own choice to play the games of dice. In the second game, he himself volunteered to go into exile. And now, before the expiry of the thirteenth year, the Pandavas have emerged like rats from their hole. Truth and justice demand that as per the condition stipulated at the second game of dice, the Pandavas must return to the forest for another cycle of thirteen years. Thereafter, they may reclaim Indraprastha. But not now. As regards their threat of war, we are not eunuchs. If it comes to fighting, we will teach the Pandavas a bitter lesson.’
Radheya’s words evoked an angry response from Bheeshma.
‘O Radheya, I notice that you always speak the language of confrontation. If you are a true friend of Duryodhana, you should exercise some restraint in your words and deeds. I am amused to hear you issue a threat of war. But don’t forget that during our recent attack on Virata, we were put to sleep by one of Arjuna’s arrows. So don’t argue too loudly for war. Let the elders deliberate on a matter of such grave importance.’
Dhritarashtra now intervened to suggest that there should be no hasty decision in a matter that needed careful deliberation. Then, addressing the Brahmin directly, he said, ‘You may go back to Yudhishthira and tell him that I will shortly dispatch Sanjaya, my charioteer, as my special envoy. Until then, let him exercise patience, which seems to have become the first casualty in this war of words.’
A couple of days later, Sanjaya arrived in Upaplavya, where he was received with great respect and affection. Since he was known for his wisdom, Yudhishthira hoped that he might have brought some pleasant tidings from Hastinapur. After an exchange of customary pleasantries, Yudhishthira asked Sanjaya what message he had brought from his uncle, King Dhritarashtra.
‘Let me first tell you that he holds you in great esteem. He earnestly looks upon you as the prince of dharma. He feels that after your tribulations in the forest, you’d have emerged spiritually stronger. But he was somewhat disillusioned to hear your emissary deliver a veiled threat of war, whereas your uncle expected to receive a message of peace and love. Let me now convey to you the kings’s exact words, lest my report may sound coloured by my own sentiments. An envoy, I know, should be just a faceless messenger. Whatever I may personally think of my king and his son Duryodhana, must remain sealed in my heart.’
‘I know all that, dear Sanjaya,’ said Yudhishthira. ‘So let us hear my uncle’s words. Please go ahead.’
Sanjaya understood that Yudhishthira wanted to hear his master’s exact words.
‘Well, here is what he said: “O Yudhishthira, I look upon you as my child, as dear to me as Duryodhana. So, I will be quite candid with you. In your envoy’s words, I heard the rattle of a sword, not the ring of peace in a bird’s warble. If you are a true votary of dharma, you should know the value of sacrifice, renunciation and forgiveness. This is what your life in the forest should have taught you. There you must have interacted with several sages from whom you would have learnt that withdrawal is far more rewarding than engagement. And yet your emissary tried to goad me and my son into surrendering to your threat of war. Indeed, I know what Arjuna’s Gandiva or Bheema’s mace can accomplish, but we are not entirely defenceless. I also learn that you have already put together a huge army. But then Duryodhana too is not without supporters. Will you be able to stand up against your guru Drona, your grandfather Bheeshma and Radheya’s mighty bow? And even if you succeed in killing all the Kauravas, would you not have nightmares about the blood of your kin on your hands?
‘“You always talk of Duryodhana’s avarice, his unwillingness to part with Indraprastha. But are you not also avaricious? Look at your own lust for power – your dream of ruling over Indraprastha. I had hoped that suffering would have chastened your soul, taught you contentment and humility. But you have emerged from your sufferings a far more worldly man – more selfish and aggressive than ever before.
‘“But above all, you don’t realize that you have come out into the open before completing the thirteenth year of your exile. So, if you are a true Kshatriya and a man of any worth, you should return to the forest and live there for another span of thirteen years, in peace. That is the kind of peace you need now, not just abstaining from war. Don’t forget that human life is too brief to nurture hostility against anyone, particularly your own cousins. If you choose to wade through a pool of blood to claim victory, how would you face God on your deathbed? So I repeat my advice to you – go back to the forest to savour the fruits of detachment and disengagement from the tangled web of life.”’
Not only Yudhishthira, but everybody else in the assembly hall – Krishna, Arjuna, Virata and Drupada – were stunned to hear Dhritarashtra’s words. It took Yudhishthira quite some time before he could find the right words.
‘O Sanjaya, I am utterly befuddled to hear this message from my uncle, who has now revealed himself in his true colours – as a man devious, hypocritical and skilled in the art of weaving a cobweb of words. If only he would practise himself what he has tried to preach to me! I am amused by his glorification of sacrifice and renunciation – ideals that a blind king should himself inculcate in his own life. His message to me is loud and clear. He would like me to renounce my claim to Indraprastha so that Duryodhana may reign supreme over both Hastinapur and Indraprastha. Why did he not listen to Vidura’s impassioned plea not to allow the game of dice to be played? Obviously, he was hoping to see me dispossessed of everything. And yet he calls me his child, as dear to him as Duryodhana.’
He resumed after a long pause. ‘I fear I have allowed myself to be carried away by anger. I still respect my uncle. I hope and pray that he opens his inner eye to what is right, and lets me have what is my birthright. If he is not willing to give Indraprastha back to me, ask him to offer me any five villages. I urge you, Sanjaya, to convince him of my just claim. I do not want war because I wish to live in peace and amity with my cousins.’ He paused again. ‘I propose to send Krishna as my emissary to Hastinapur. I must leave the final decision to him, as he knows what is best for me. He is my Pole Star, my friend and guide. So, please, ask King Dhritarashtra to wait for him.’
Krishna listened to Yudhishthira’s response in silence. This was not the moment, he told himself, to give himself away, although he was tempted to tear Dhritarashtra apart for his duplicity.
Arjuna, however, could not control his anger. He burst out: ‘O Sanjaya, you know that we all respect you because you have known us from our childhood. Since you were also present at the game of dice, you are aware how my brother was tricked into losing everything. I feel that Yudhishthira was too gentle in his formal response. So I would like you to carry to your king my message as well. Tell him that we are determined to defeat Duryodhana and his brothers, for they have made us suffer beyond endurance. If Duryodhana has made us sleep on the hard ground in the forest for twelve years, it is now our turn to make him and his brothers lie down into sleep on the battlefield, forever. My brother Bheema has been dreaming about smashing Duryodhana’s thighs to pulp. He is also thirsty for the blood from Duhsasana’s chest. So advise your king to restore my brother’s kingdom or we will let a river of blood flow on which will float the bodies of the entire Kaurava clan.
‘Also let him know that Hastinapur is now like a poisonous tree, with Duryodhana as its trunk and Dhritarashtra its root. This tree yields only venomous fruit. On the other side stands Yudhishthira, like a tree which has for its trunk Lord Krishna himself, and Bheema and myself as its robust branches. But its root is Yudhishthira, the embodiment of truth and righteousness. It is time that this poisonous Kaurava tree is uprooted and the ground cleansed of its venom.’
The gruesome images in Arjuna’s speech horrified Sanjaya. He said, ‘Dear Arjuna, you have misconstrued me. I am only an emissary ordered to bear an unpleasant message. Otherwise, I have great esteem and affection for all of you, particularly Yudhishthira. So I seek your forgiveness.’
‘No, dear Sanjaya,’ interceded Yudhishthira. ‘How could we blame you for anything? If a golden goblet is filled with poison, one cannot blame the goblet which may also hold nectar. Our only request is that, since your king has great regard for you, don’t let his blindness blind him to our helplessness. You know very well that all his accusations and insinuations are unjustified.’
Sanjaya smiled and walked out of the assembly hall.
When he returned to Hastinapur and told everyone what he had seen and heard in Upaplavya, King Dhritarashtra felt like an old, withered tree uprooted by a strong gale. Several grotesque images now rose in his mind’s eye – Duryodhana’s thighs being smashed by Bheema’s mace, Bheema drinking blood from Duhsasana’s chest and a river of blood on which floated the dead bodies of countless Kaurava soldiers. He was pulled out of his terrible nightmare by Bheeshma’s voice.
‘It is never too late to stem the tide of hatred and revenge. We have discussed this matter several times. Why not hand over Indraprastha to Yudhishthira and restore peace? Or let him have any five villages as he has demanded.’
‘That would never happen, dear grandfather,’ interposed Duryodhana. ‘I would not submit to Arjuna’s threats. I think war alone would bring this wrangling to an end. So let there be no further talk of peace.’
‘Are you not going to wait even for Krishna?’ asked Vidura. ‘That would be an affront to someone who is revered by everyone. Have you forgotten that you went to Dwaraka to seek his help? Why do you always choose to be so rash? A hasty decision could be your undoing.’
‘Haven’t we waited long enough already?’ intervened Radheya. ‘Our army is much bigger and our soldiers are eager to test their mettle on the battlefield.’
As Dhritarashtra now coughed, the assembly went silent.
‘I have listened to everyone and I have decided to wait for Krishna. I agree with Bheeshma that he may suggest some solution to this vexed problem. He is not an ordinary envoy. I want him to be received with full honours.’
As everyone was leaving the hall, Sanjaya drew close to the king and said, ‘Before I go, I wish to let you know that I felt most distressed to hear the Pandavas speak about the injustice they have been subjected to. My heart bled to hear their tale of woe. After twelve years of wandering in the wilderness, they surely deserve to be treated in a humane manner. Those innocent creatures feel deprived of parental love. You often refer to them as your children, but I must say that it’s all lip service. History will consign you to its dustbin.’ He paused, finding it difficult to control his anger against the king. ‘I must go now. I am depressed and tired. I hope I will not be sent again on such an unpleasant mission.’
‘O Sanjaya, you are not only my charioteer but also my friend and counsellor. But now you seem to have abandoned me. Who shall I turn to for succour?’ Then, heaving a deep sigh, Dhritarashtra asked him to send Vidura to his private chamber. ‘I wish to talk to him.’
‘Instead of talking to Vidura or anybody else, you should learn to talk to your own inner self,’ replied Sanjaya. ‘Go deep into your self and search your soul.’
‘Again you are hurting me.’
‘But this is what you need – a sharp knife to slice away your festering wound,’ said Sanjaya. ‘And yes, I will indeed send Vidura to you. But I am not sure if you will listen to him. I think you have blinded yourself to any sense of justice.’ With these words, Sanjaya walked out.
A couple of hours later, Vidura came to Dhritarashtra’s private chamber.
‘Sanjaya told me that you wanted to meet me,’ he said.
‘Indeed. I wish to seek your advice. I seem to be lost in a wilderness and I know that only you can lead me out of it.’
‘In this maze of life, O King, nobody can guide another. One has to be one’s own pathfinder. Ultimately, one has to listen to one’s own inner voice.’
‘But doesn’t one need a preceptor, a sage or a counsellor, to lead one out of darkness into light?’ asked Dhritarashtra.
‘Up to a point, but no further,’ responded Vidura. ‘You have to take the final step yourself. The truth of the matter is that you already have the answers to your questions. You know the difference between truth and falsehood, between deceit and fair play, between right and wrong. But you lack the will to translate this knowledge into action.’
There was a brief silence. ‘But what can I do when Duryodhana does not listen to me? He is very inflexible.’
‘There you go, hiding behind your own frailty,’ said Vidura bluntly. ‘The fact is that you are a very indulgent father, blind to everyone else. A king who thinks only of his own family has no right to sit on the throne. He should live with his family within the confines of his private chamber. In fact, you should leave all state affairs to Bheeshma, for you have abandoned your duties and responsibilities as a ruler. Also, you are exceedingly fickle. Like a chameleon, you change colours every moment. Vacillation is your greatest weakness. Only once you have acted justly and firmly – when you restored Indraprastha to Yudhishthira after he had lost the game of dice. But soon thereafter, you succumbed to Duryodhana and Sakuni to trap innocent Yudhishthira into another fraudulent game of dice. I find it difficult to imagine how you could rest comfortably at night while your nephews slept on the hard ground in a forest. What callousness towards your brother’s children! Let me tell you that you are leading all the Kauravas to annihilation. Being blind, you cannot see what is visible to everyone else.’
‘Go on, dear Vidura,’ said the king. ‘I am consoled when you hurt me in this manner. I desperately need your bitter pill to cure me of my infirmities.’
‘No, dear Dhritarashtra, no counsel or meditation could ever purge you of your inner infirmity because you are now beyond any cure,’ Vidura said. ‘I can clearly see the shape of things to come. When Krishna comes here as the Pandavas’ emissary, you may discern wisdom in his pleadings. But once he leaves, you will again become a pawn in the hands of Duryodhana and Sakuni.’