Word had already reached Dhritarashtra that Krishna’s chariot was on its way to Hastinapur. Although Vidura and Bheeshma were excited at the prospect of peace, Dhritarashtra had instinctively understood Krishna’s real motive. His pleading for peace and justice, he knew, was intended only to sway public opinion against Duryodhana. So he decided to meet the challenge with composure and tact. He counselled Duryodhana to extend to Krishna all the respect and courtesy due to an envoy of his stature.
‘Don’t forget, son, that Krishna’s soldiers will be fighting under your banner. So let us play this game carefully. His appearance in our court tomorrow will be like Yudhishthira coming for another game of dice. But this time, Krishna is likely to outwit us all. We know he will try to win over some of our supporters who already have reservations against you. You know that we are holding Vidura and Bheeshma on a very slender thread. One wrong move, and they will turn against you. So be prepared tomorrow to engage yourself in a battle of wits with Krishna. I suggest that you should be on your best behaviour when you receive him at the gates of Hastinapur. Let there be illuminations in his honour and banners of welcome waving from all housetops. I would also like you to invite him to stay at your private palace and entertain him in every way possible. Remember that dissimulation and tact can bring tangible results if they are exercised properly. Don’t confide in even Radheya what I have just shared with you because he is rather naive in many ways. He should only be told that a Kshatriya should be courteous even to his enemies.’
As Duryodhana listened to his father’s advice, wrinkles appeared on his forehead.
‘An impossible task you have assigned me, father, because I cannot help disliking someone who has sided with the Pandavas. But I will try my best to accord him a cordial welcome.’
But as Duryodhana was about to walk away, Vidura, Bheeshma, Drona and Kripa came in. The king now sat up in his chair, ready to interact with them.
‘I am glad you have all come,’ he said, trying to appear pleased. ‘I was about to send for you all myself. I need your advice as to how we should receive Krishna. I have already directed Duryodhana to make all possible arrangements for his comfortable stay in Hastinapur. In fact, I feel that we should gift him diamonds and jewels to win him over to our side. What do you think of my suggestion?’
‘A very foolish idea,’ Vidura immediately said. ‘Do you think that you could bribe someone like Krishna? This would only turn him off. He is not the kind to be bought off with diamonds and jewels. If you really wish to please him, why don’t you offer him justice for Yudhishthira?’
‘I agree with Vidura,’ Bheeshma chimed in. ‘If you really want to please him, why don’t you let Yudhishthira reclaim Indraprastha? Or, all that he is asking for is any five villages – no more. But you have sent Yudhishthira only veiled threats through Sanjaya.’
This drew ire from Duryodhana. Boiling with anger, he shot back at Bheeshma: ‘Sometimes I think that you are only their grandfather, not mine. And there is Uncle Vidura, always humming the same tune – justice and truth – as if I am evil incarnate. Let me reiterate for the hundredth time that I am determined to hold on to what I have won through fair means. If I had lost the second game of dice, I would have cheerfully gone into exile myself.’
‘Quite amusing,’ Vidura sneered. ‘With Sakuni playing dice on your behalf, everyone knew what was to follow.’
Bheeshma intervened to say: ‘It is futile raking up the past. I know that Krishna is coming as an emissary of peace and amity, because Yudhishthira would never opt for war. He is bound by his dharma.’ Then, taking a deep breath, he added, ‘O Dhritarashtra, don’t you feel any remorse over the injustice you have done to the children of your brother Pandu? Fatherless, they have wandered through the forests for thirteen years. Let them have some respite now.’
‘It seems both Bheeshma and Vidura are already functioning as Yudhishthira’s emissaries,’ Duryodhana taunted. ‘So was there any need for Yudhishthira to send Krishna? Deep down in my heart, I know that the Pandavas are set on a course of war. Both Arjuna and Bheema wish to eliminate us. Peace is only a carrot they wish to dangle before our eyes. Still, I am willing to follow my father’s advice and extend to Krishna all possible courtesy and respect. Don’t say that I am not being gracious to my enemies’ envoy!’ He paused. ‘Otherwise, I could hold Krishna as my prisoner in Hastinapur, thus challenging the Pandavas to war.’
‘No, dear Duryodhana,’ said Dhritarashtra. ‘That would be utter foolhardiness. Go and receive him with all the respect he deserves as an emissary from the Pandavas. In any case, let us see what he has to say in the open assembly tomorrow.’
Duryodhana’s spies brought him word that since the road between Upaplavya and Hastinapur was quite bumpy, Krishna’s chariot might not arrive before sunset. When it approached the front gate, the weather took a sudden turn. Dark clouds appeared overhead and a cold wind started blowing.
Smiling, Satyaki turned to Krishna and said, ‘It seems the weather does not augur too well for your mission.’
‘What has the weather to do with peace or war?’ Krishna asked.
‘You don’t know,’ replied Satyaki, ‘that nature signals its messages in all sorts of ways. Doesn’t God speak through wind and rain, thunder and lightning?’
‘I didn’t know you are a naturalist as well as a peerless warrior.’
Just then, they noticed that the gates of Hastinapur were covered with floral decorations of welcome. And there stood Duryodhana with some of his courtiers to greet him. Asking Krishna to join him in his chariot, Duryodhana invited him to stay at his palace. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to serve you,’ he said.
‘That is very gracious of you,’ Krishna responded. ‘But I have already decided to stay with Vidura. I enjoy staying with someone who is known for his immaculate moral standards.’
Duryodhana felt slighted and found it difficult to control his temper.
‘Do you think that I am tainted?’
‘That is for each man to decide for himself,’ Krishna said.
Recalling his father’s advice not to provoke Krishna in any manner, Duryodhana remained silent.
‘Then we shall meet tomorrow in the central hall,’ Duryodhana said. ‘My father is looking forward to welcoming you.’
‘So am I,’ said Krishna, and asked Satyaki to drive him to Vidura’s house.
As Krishna entered Vidura’s house, he was greeted with great warmth. Vidura almost leapt forward to hug him, and Kunti’s face glowed with affection. As Krishna bowed to her respectfully, her eyes became tearful with longing for her sons. Vidura stood aside and watched this meeting between Krishna and the mother of the Pandavas. He must patiently wait, Vidura said to himself, till Kunti had made fond enquiries about her sons.
With her throat choked with emotion, Kunti asked, ‘How is my Yudhishthira, O Vasudeva?’
‘He is fine – composed and resigned to God’s will, as usual.’
‘You know, I often conjure up images of him, seated in resplendent glory, on his throne. And then I shudder to recall how he slept on the bare ground in the Kamyaka forest.’
‘Don’t feel sorrowful any longer, O Kunti, for he will soon be back as the King of Indraprastha.’
‘I hope so,’ she responded, her voice still despondent. ‘And how is my Arjuna? I know that when the moment is ripe, his Gandiva will sing on the battlefield.’
‘Indeed.’
‘And Bheema must have lost a great deal of weight, surviving on whatever food Draupadi could spare for him.’
‘No, he is as well fed as ever.’
‘And how are my delicate little cubs – Nakula and Sahadeva?’
‘Now grown up into tall trees.’
‘You know, Vasudeva, I have never been able to reconcile myself to what Draupadi has been through.’
‘She will come through eventually. Even a dark, long night must give way to dawn,’ Krishna consoled her.
As the conversation trailed off, Vidura joined in.
‘Tell me, Krishna, why did you choose to stay with me when Duryodhana had invited you to his royal palace?’
‘I could not bring myself to eating with a sinful man whose food must be tainted too. As for a meal with you, a bowl of rice and some fruits would be more welcome than all the delicacies served at Duryodhana’s banquet. As regards the comforts of his palace, I would like to say that blessed and hallowed is the house where lives a sage like Vidura and a mother like Kunti.’
Vidura bowed his head, deeply moved by Krishna’s words. Then, looking pointedly at Krishna, he asked, ‘Why did you come as an envoy of peace when you should have known what awaits you here – injustice, arrogance and threats of war? It would be easier to tame a cobra than to make Dhritarashtra and his son see reason. From what I have heard, Duryodhana may even humiliate you in the open assembly, threaten to hold you captive – just to send a signal of war to Yudhishthira.’
‘I am prepared for all that,’ responded Krishna. ‘Since a wiser man than you does not breathe in Hastinapur, you’d know that if one is strong inside, one can face both respect and indignity, success and failure with equanimity. But let me share with you my real purpose in coming here. I am here primarily to stir up the conscience of the Kauravas and their allies.’
‘That is, if they have any,’ interjected Vidura. ‘I tell you that even the elders, including revered Bheeshma, have muzzled their inner voice. So when driven into a corner, they remain mute. And if they speak at all, it is only words, not action.’
‘Never mind,’ said Krishna. ‘I am determined to win over as many of Duryodhana’s supporters as possible. I propose to let all the citizens of Hastinapur know what Duryodhana has done to an innocent and just ruler like Yudhishthira.’
‘Then good luck to you, dear Krishna,’ said Vidura, ‘even though you appear to have chosen to impede an insurgent tidal wave.’
Next morning, when Krishna walked into the assembly hall, he was greeted with cheers and offered a jewelled chair near the dais. Krishna bowed to King Dhritarashtra and smiled at all the dignitaries seated in the hall. He also bowed to Bheeshma, who responded with a warm smile.
‘We are honoured to have you with us,’ Dhritarashtra said, ‘as an emissary from my beloved nephew, Yudhishthira. We are eager to listen to the message you have brought us from Upaplavya.’
A hush descended upon the place as Krishna rose to his feet, his curly hair falling on his shoulders, his demeanour exuding dignity and confidence.
‘O King Dhritarashtra,’ Krishna began in a voice that was like a gentle breeze soughing through a bed of flowers. ‘I bring you a message of peace and love from Yudhishthira. He extends his hand of friendship to everyone here. He wants you all to know that when he left Hastinapur, years ago, he left his heart behind in this city that carries the fragrance and glory of all the Kuru ancestors. So I do not understand why Duryodhana wants to drown both Hastinapur and Indraprastha in a sea of blood. Why is he bent upon the annihilation of the ancient Kuru empire? He should remember that life is a priceless gift from God. Let him not throw it away like a wayward child who breaks an invaluable toy. It seems that Duryodhana imagines that, with the help of Radheya, Drona and Bheeshma, he would be able to eliminate the Pandavas. A wild fantasy that is, O King. Let everyone here know that the might of Arjuna and Bheema is supreme. As blessed creatures, they are invincible. So why don’t you rein in your son’s arrogance and avarice? Imagine, O King, that if Duryodhana makes peace with the Pandavas, you would reign as the sole overlord of Bharatavarsha, supported by Bheeshma, Drona, Asvatthama and Radheya on one hand, and Arjuna and Bheema on the other. But it is a great pity that you have never cared to restrain your son from sliding down the path of injustice and greed.’
His voice sounding like a broken reed, Dhritarashtra suddenly intervened: ‘I’m helpless, O Krishna. If only Duryodhana would listen to me, his grandfather Bheeshma, his guru Drona, or Vidura, who is pure and sinless like a lotus… Why don’t you try to bring him around?’
‘But why should a parent not own up his responsibility?’ retorted Krishna. ‘Well, if you like, I am willing to try.’
Then, turning to Duryodhana, Krishna said, ‘You are a scion of the illustrious Kuru race, known for its truthfulness, justice and humanity. Why should you choose to be so different from your ancestors? All that the Pandavas are asking for is their kingdom, Indraprastha. Why are you withholding it from them?’
‘Because they lost it in a game of dice,’ retorted Duryodhana.
‘You know very well that Yudhishthira was cheated at this game,’ snapped Krishna. ‘Even then, now that they have completed thirteen years of exile, are they not entitled to Indraprastha?’
‘No,’ said Duryodhana.
‘Not even any five villages?’ asked Krishna, finding it difficult to keep his cool. ‘They would be content with this pittance, if not Indraprastha.’
‘Not even a needle-point space of land of my kingdom,’ Duryodhana responded, grinding his teeth.
‘So you have decided to set aflame Hastinapur, pushing all your supporters into the jaws of Yama.’
‘It is the war that will decide who will be annihilated,’ responded Duryodhana.
‘Your arrogance,’ Krishna now raised his voice, ‘seems to be irrepressible. You are courting self-immolation!’
‘How dare you insult me in this open assembly, where I am the supreme authority? Remember, O Vasudeva, Hastinapur is not Dwaraka.’
‘I carry Dwaraka with me wherever I go.’
There was a brief pause as both Duryodhana and Krishna glared at each other, choked with anger. Then, raising his right hand, Duryodhana thundered, ‘I will now show you what I can do.’ Looking around, he ordered some soldiers to seize Krishna as a prisoner. This brought Vidura to his feet.
‘That would be a shameful act, O Duryodhana. Not only is Krishna present here as an envoy from Yudhishthira but he is also himself the noblest of us all. If you carry out your threat, you will invite the curse of all the gods. Shame and infamy would pursue you all your life.’
‘I don’t care,’ retorted Duryodhana. ‘It is now abundantly clear that while you are my father’s counsellor, your heart is with my enemies.’
At this, Bheeshma also rose from his seat.
‘You are behaving like a man bereft of all sense.’ Then, turning to Dhritarashtra, he asked, ‘Are you his father or simply a pawn in his hands? History would denounce you as much as your son. Both of you are doomed to disaster.’
‘I am helpless,’ replied Dhritarashtra, ‘as I’ve already said. But I also feel that my son is besieged by enemies from within and without. Why should he be branded a sinner?’
Dhritarashtra’s words acted like a shot in the arm of his son. Duryodhana then shouted, ‘Where are my soldiers? Let Krishna be held captive till the Pandavas come running here, begging for his release!’
Krishna appeared indifferent to Duryodhana’s threat. Grinning, he said to Duryodhana, ‘Why this delay? Why don’t you carry out your threat and then see what I can do?’
Krishna’s response took the entire assembly by surprise. All eyes were now fixed on Duryodhana and Krishna.
Then, just as some soldiers advanced menacingly towards Krishna, an astonishing thing happened. Krishna, who stood near his seat, began to grow taller and taller, like a sapling growing into a banyan tree. A strong wind also burst into the hall, rattling all the doors and windows. Then, suddenly, all the lights went off, as if some divine hand had blown them out. In the ensuing darkness, the only light now visible was the dazzling glare in Krishna’s eyes. So hot and blinding was it that everyone felt it would reduce to ashes everything in the hall. Krishna’s head now almost touched the ceiling and his arms grew so long that they could gather the entire assembly within their grasp.
‘Oh God!’ rose an anguished cry in the hall. ‘Save us, O Narayana!’
Then the assembly saw Krishna’s right hand smite the soldiers who had advanced to capture him. Instantly, they collapsed on the floor, gasping for breath, as if they had been strangled. Krishna’s left hand moved towards Duryodhana, who ran towards the front door. But he was pulled back into the centre of the hall. He now stood there, his entire body quaking. Leaving him there, trembling with fear, Krishna’s right hand reached out for Duhsasana and his other brothers. They were picked up, one by one, as if they were fish hooked out of the sea.
Then Krishna opened his jaw so wide that it looked like the interior of a huge cavern. Inside it everyone glimpsed all of humanity – men, women and children.
As Dhritarashtra strained his blind eyes to understand what was happening all around him, he was amazed by a strange sensation that he could see the entire spectacle, albeit for only a moment. It seemed as if someone had taken a blindfold off his eyes. He saw Krishna in his full glory. Who could stand up against this man who was certainly some celestial being, not a mortal?
Struck dumb with terror, everyone remained transfixed and silent.
Then, suddenly, the lights returned, the wind calmed down and the doors and windows stopped rattling. It was as if a strong tidal wave had now subsided and retreated into the sea.
Krishna also began to shrink to his original size. It appeared as if the earth had calmed after an earthquake, in spite of the fissures and craters still visible everywhere.
In this hushed silence, Krishna spoke: ‘So what is your message, O Duryodhana, in response to Yudhishthira’s plea for peace and amity?’
‘War!’ boomed Duryodhana. ‘I am not going to be taken in by your fiendish manifestation. You will see my might on the battlefield, when my veterans will mow down the Pandavas, like a scythe cutting through a paddy field.’
‘So the die is cast!’ said Krishna. ‘But remember that, this time, Sakuni will not be there to throw the dice on your behalf. And against you will be pitted Arjuna’s Gandiva and Bheema’s mace. I will appear on the battlefield as Arjuna’s charioteer.’ He sighed. ‘I am very sad to see the dove of peace slaughtered in this hall and the vultures of war swooping down on the dead bodies of your soldiers.’