Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata

by Devdutt Pattanaik

  According to the Bhagavata Purana, in their previous life, Shishupala and Dantavakra were Jaya and Vijaya, the doorkeepers of Vishnu who prevented the four sages, the Sanat Kumars, from entering Vaikuntha. The sages cursed them that they would take birth three times away from God. Each time they were born, Jaya and Vijaya performed terrible deeds that forced Vishnu himself to descend on earth and kill them. The first time, they were born as the Asura brothers, Hiranayaksha and Hiranyakashipu, who were killed by Vishnu taking the form of a boar and a man-lion. The next time, they were born as Rakshasa brothers, Ravana and Kumbhakarna, and were killed by Vishnu who descended as Ram. The third time they were born as Shishupala and Dantavakra (some say Kansa and Shishupala), and were killed by Vishnu who descended as Krishna. Thus the death of Shishupala was preordained.

  To protect her son, Shishupala’s mother gets from Krishna a boon that he will forgive a hundred crimes of her son. But she does not bother to warn her son never to commit a crime. Thus Vyasa draws attention to a peculiar human trait of trying to solve a problem through external means without bringing about any internal transformation.

  According to one folktale, Krishna cut his hand when he hurled the Sudarshan Chakra at Shishupala. Draupadi immediately tore her upper garment and tied it around Krishna’s wound to stop the bleeding. Since she gave him cloth, Krishna promised that the day she needs cloth, he will provide it, which he does later in the epic when the Kauravas try to disrobe Draupadi in public.

  Yudhishtira’s coronation is surrounded by inauspicious events. It is preceded by the death of a king, Jarasandha; it witnesses the humiliation of another king, Duryodhana; and finally the ceremony itself is followed by the killing of yet another king, Shishupala, leading to an uproar among all Kshatriyas.

  Book Ten

  Gambling

  ‘Janamejaya, your ancestors treated their kingdom and their wife as property to be gambled away in a game of dice.’

  46

  Shakuni’s plan

  Duryodhana returned from Indra-prastha a broken man, consumed by envy. ‘The Pandavas had nothing. And now they are kings. Their kingdom is wealthier than mine and their reputation far greater.’ He felt inferior once again to his cousins.

  Gandhari’s brother, Shakuni, then came up with a plan that brought cheer back into Duryodhana’s heart. ‘Yudhishtira may be great, but he has one weakness: he loves to gamble. Invite him to a game of dice. Even though he is a terrible gambler, he will come. He will not be able to say no. Let me play in your stead. You know of my skill with the dice. I can make the dice fall the way I want it to. I will win. And with each victory, we will take all that the Pandavas possess. By the end of the game, you will be the lord of Indra-prastha and the Pandavas will be nothing but beggars.’

  Duryodhana was overjoyed to hear this, but he did not realize that his uncle was playing a devious game to destroy the Kuru household.

  Years ago, when the Pandavas and Kauravas were children, they were playing a game which ended, as usual, in a fight. The Kauravas abused the Pandavas, ‘You are children of a whore,’ pointing to the widely known fact that the Pandavas were not children of their mother’s husband.

  The Pandavas retorted by saying, ‘And you are children of a widow!’

  The Kauravas were surprised to hear this. Surely their mother was no widow. They went crying to Bhishma and narrated the entire incident to him. Bhishma decided to investigate and sent out spies to the kingdom of Gandhara to find out the truth.

  The spies found out that when Gandhari was born, astrologers had foretold that while her first husband would have a short life, her second husband would have a long life. Her father, Suvala, then decided to get his daughter ‘married’ to a goat and that goat was sacrificed soon after ‘marriage’. Technically, that made Gandhari a widow.

  Bhishma was very furious when astrologers revealed that the Kauravas were actually the children that the goat would have fathered had he not been sacrificed. ‘I have been duped by Suvala. A widow entered my noble household as a daughter-in-law. If the world learns of this, I will be the laughing stock of all Bharata-varsha. I will kill Suvala’s entire family and let this terrible secret die with them.’

  Bhishma locked Suvala and his sons in a dungeon. Every day, only a fistful of rice was given to them. Suvala told his sons, ‘Bhishma knows it is adharma to kill family. So he has found a way to kill us without breaking the code of dharma. He feeds us every day but the quantity of food is so less that we are bound to starve and die. There is nothing we can do about it, for it is adharma to ask for more food. And it is adharma to run away from the daughter’s house when food is still being served.’

  As the days passed, things got worse. The brothers of Gandhari began fighting over the food being served. A starving and suffering Suvala came up with an idea, ‘Let only one of us eat: the most intelligent one among us. Let only he survive and remember this great wrong done to us by Bhishma. Let him live to take vengeance.’

  Shakuni, the youngest, was the chosen one and alone he ate the food being served while the rest of his family starved before his eyes.

  Before dying, Suvala struck Shakuni’s foot with a staff and cracked his ankle. ‘Now you shall limp every time you walk. And every time you limp, remember the crime of the Kauravas against your family. Never forgive them.’

  Suvala had noticed Shakuni’s fondness for the game of dice. He told his son, with his dying breath, ‘When I die, take my finger bones and turn them into dice. They will be filled with my rage and will turn whichever way you want them to. That way you will always win the game of dice.’

  Shortly thereafter, Suvala and his sons died. Shakuni survived and he lived in Hastina-puri along with the Kauravas under the care of Bhishma. He pretended to be the friend of the Kauravas, but all the while he plotted the downfall of Bhishma’s household just as Bhishma had destroyed his own.

  Duryodhana’s envy of the Pandava fortune is the root cause of the tragedy that is the Mahabharata. It is not that he has less but that his cousins have more that makes him suffer.

  The story of Shakuni’s family is part of many folk traditions. In some variants, Duryodhana, not Bhishma, is responsible for killing Shakuni’s father and brothers. The aim of his narrative is to remind all not to judge people without knowing their story. Even the worst of villains has a story that perhaps explains their actions, without condoning them.

  In other versions of the story, Suvala is put in prison along with his sons for refusing to let Gandhari marry a blind man. Thus Gandhari, like Ambika and Ambalika, is a captive and so is Shakuni.

  The story of Gandhari and the goat comes from the Jain retellings of the Mahabharata.

  In epic times, it seems that the mother’s family played a prominent role in family politics. Shakuni is the maternal uncle of the Kauravas while Krishna is the maternal cousin of the Pandavas.

  The Mahabharata attributes all downfall to greed. In a story that is further elaborated in the Vishnu Purana, Vishnu descends on earth in the form of a tiny fish and asks Manu, the first man, to save him from the big fish. The notion of big fish feeding on small fish is known as ‘matsya nyaya’ and denotes the law of the jungle. By promising to save the small fish, Manu, in effect, establishes the code of civilization or ‘dharma’ where even the weak can thrive. Manu puts the small fish in a pot. But as the days pass the fish grows in size and becomes too big for the pot. So Manu moves him to a pond. The fish in due course becomes too big for the pond. Manu moves him to a river. As the days pass, even the river proves inadequate for the fish. The fish is then moved to the sea. It grows too big even for the sea. So the skies burst and torrential rains fall which end up submerging the whole earth. This, the fish declares ominously, is Pralaya, the end of the world. The story ends with the giant fish, identified as Vishnu himself, towing a boat with Manu and his family through the devastating flood to safety. The latter part of the story is similar to Noah’s ark and establishes Vishnu as the saviour. The earlier part exp
lains the rise and fall of civilization. Civilization comes into being when the small fish is rescued from the big fish; civilization comes to an end when the fish keeps growing bigger than its pond.

  47

  Gambling match

  The Pandavas received an invitation from the Kauravas to come to Hastina-puri and play a game of dice. Yudhishtira accepted, saying it would be considered rude not to do so. What he did not say was that he loved to play dice.

  Krishna had no idea either of the Kaurava invitation or of the Pandava decision to participate in the game of dice. He was busy fighting Shalva and Dantavakra, friends of Shishupala, who had laid siege to Dwaraka.

  On the day of the game, Draupadi was menstruating and so, in keeping with tradition, isolated herself in a room in the far corner of the women’s quarters.

  Without waiting to hear from Krishna or for Draupadi to sit beside them, the Pandavas entered the gambling hall.

  Yudhishtira played on behalf of the Pandavas and Shakuni on behalf of the Kauravas. The game was based on the throw of dice and the movement of coins on a game board. A mixture of luck and skill. To make the game interesting, wagers were decided at the beginning of each game.

  At first the stakes were small, an umbrella or a necklace. Each time, Shakuni would roll his dice and say, ‘Lo, I have won.’ Defeat fuelled Yudhishtira’s desire to win back all he lost. So with each passing game, the value of his wager increased. And each time, Shakuni would roll his dice and say, ‘Lo, I have won.’

  Yudhishtira staked his chariots of gold. Shakuni rolled the dice and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  Yudhishtira staked all the jewels in his treasury. Shakuni rolled the dice and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  Yudhishtira staked his servant girls. Shakuni rolled the dice and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  Yudhishtira staked his servant boys. Shakuni rolled the dice and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  Yudhishtira staked his elephants, then his horses, then his cows, then his goats and sheep. Each time, Shakuni rolled the dice and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  As the losses continued, the Pandava brothers suspected Shakuni’s dice was loaded. But they could not prove it. As the day progressed, they were stripped of all their possessions: their gold and grain, their livestock and land, even the jewels on their body. ‘Stop,’ begged the Pandava brothers, ‘there is no shame in withdrawal. Even Krishna withdrew after trying to save Mathura seventeen times.’ But Yudhishtira refused. He was convinced that with the next game he would win all that he had lost. The Kauravas encouraged this belief, smirking silently.

  Bhishma, Vidura, Drona and Kripa watched in silence. ‘Maybe we should stop this madness,’ said Vidura. The blind Dhritarashtra said no. He could not stop his sons who were winning and it would not be appropriate for him to stop Yudhishtira, as Yudhishtira was now king in his own right capable of taking his own decisions.

  After the eleventh game, with all his wealth gone, Yudhishtira did the unthinkable. He began staking his own brothers, one by one. First the beautiful Nakula, then the learned Sahadeva, then the strong Bhima and finally the archer Arjuna. He lost all of them. He staked himself too, and lost. Still he refused to give up.

  ‘I stake our wife,’ he said. Everyone in the gambling hall gasped. Duryodhana smiled and accepted the wager. Shakuni rolled the dice the seventeenth time and said, ‘Lo, I have won!’

  In Vedic times, gambling with dice was considered a sacred ritual. Just as no king could ignore a challenge to a duel or a call to a battle, no king could turn down an invitation to a gambling match. Gambling showed if a king was blessed with intelligence and luck. Krishna embodies intelligence and Draupadi luck. The Pandavas enter the gambling hall with neither.

  This is the only time in the epic when the Pandavas take decisions alone—without mother, without friend, without wife. And they fail miserably.

  The throw of dice in a gambling match indicates fate while the movement of coins on the board indicates free will. Thus the Vedic game of dice was not just a game but a representation of life controlled by fate and free will. It was a part of fertility rituals. It was said that in the game of life, Yama, god of death and destiny, threw the die while humans guided by Kama, god of life and desire, had the power to move the coins.

  India is the home of all kinds of board games: those that are totally dependent on luck such as snakes and ladders, those that are a mixture of luck and skill such as the dice game or chausar and those that are based totally on skill such as chess.

  Hindus consider life to be a game or leela based on man-made rules. These rules create winners and losers. Winning makes us happy and losing makes us sad. By making a game of dice the cornerstone of his tale, Vyasa reminds us that ultimately all of life is a game.

  It must be noted that here Yudhishtira first gambles away his stepbrothers, Nakula and Sahadeva, and then his own brothers. Did he differentiate between his two sets of brothers? One is left to wonder.

  48

  Disrobing of Draupadi

  The doorkeeper, Pratikami, told Draupadi that her husbands had lost her in a game of dice and that her new masters, the Kauravas, demanded her presence in the gambling hall. ‘Go ask my gambler husband if he staked himself first or me.

  For if he staked himself first and lost himself first, how can he still have any rights over me?’

  Draupadi’s question irked Duryodhana. He felt it was beneath him to be answerable to any woman, even Draupadi.

  They sent the doorkeeper to fetch her once again. This time Draupadi said, ‘Ask the elders if it is morally appropriate for a woman, the royal daughter-in-law at that, to be staked and lost so in a game of dice?’

  Draupadi’s questions further annoyed Duryodhana. ‘She speaks too much,’ he said. Turning to Dusshasana, he said, ‘Go and fetch her, by force, if necessary.’

  The ever-obedient Dusshasana went into the women’s quarters where Draupadi sat with hair unbound dressed in a single cloth stained with blood. Draupadi was startled by his audacity but before she could protest, Dusshasana grabbed her by her hair and dragged her through the palace corridors into the gambling hall. Draupadi kicked and tried to hold on to the pillars, but to no avail. She was no match for Dusshasana’s brute force. She screamed but the women in the palace corridors withdrew into the shadows, too terrified to help.

  The gambling hall saw what could not be imagined—Draupadi, barely covered, hair unbound, pushed to the floor at Duryodhana’s feet. Not one of the assembled men came to Draupadi’s rescue. The elders maintained a stony silence while the Pandavas hung their heads in shame. ‘For shame, stop! I am the daughter of the king of Panchala, your sister-in-law, the king’s daughter-in-law,’ cried Draupadi. No one responded.

  Duryodhana who could never stand Draupadi’s haughtiness said, ‘Your husbands are useless. They cannot protect you. They have staked and lost their kingdom, their weapons, themselves and even you. So come to me. Sit on my thigh. I will take care of you.’ He then exposed his left thigh and mocked Draupadi with a lascivious look. Draupadi was disgusted by Duryodhana’s vulgarity. And horrified that not one among the assembled Kshatriyas protested. Everyone stared and watched the fun.

  ‘Is this dharma,’ she asked, ‘to treat a woman so?’

  Vikarna, the youngest of the Kauravas, said, ‘Yudhishtira staked himself first and lost. He had therefore no right over anyone, hence could not stake Draupadi.’

  To this Karna retorted, ‘Young prince, where is your allegiance? Your brothers have broken no law. When a man loses himself in gambling, his master becomes the master of all his possessions including his wife. Thus Draupadi became the slave of the Kauravas the moment her husbands became slaves. Yet, out of consideration, she was allowed to be staked independently, when there was no need for it. In your immaturity you let emotions cloud your judgement.’ Turning to Draupadi, who had disqualified him from participating in her swayamvara, he said, ‘Ancient law allows a woman to go to only four men with the permission o
f her husband. You have been with five husbands. That makes you a whore, public property, to be treated as your master’s will.’

  ‘Yes, we can do anything we want with you,’ said Duryodhana arrogantly. ‘I want my slaves, all six of them, to be stripped of their clothes.’ The Pandavas lowered their heads and did as told, removing their upper and their lower garments. Draupadi wailed at their misfortune. ‘Her too,’ said Duryodhana pointing to Draupadi, ‘Strip her naked, Dusshasana. Let the world see the legendary beauty of our new slave.’

  Everyone was shocked by Duryodhana’s instructions, yet not one spoke up: the Pandavas because they were not in a position to do so and the elders because they felt Duryodhana was behaving within the confines of dharma. Yuyutsu, Dhritarashtra’s son by a maid, tried to protest. But he was silenced and so lowered his eyes in shame. Dhritarashtra, the king, said nothing because he loved his sons too much and could never find fault with them. Bhishma and Drona and Kripa struggled with their own emotions; no law had been broken, so they found it difficult to even register a protest.

  Draupadi realized she was all alone and helpless. As Dusshasana grabbed her robe and started to yank it, she raised her arms towards the heavens and cried, ‘Save me, God, there is none but you who I can turn to.’

  Her wail reached the heavens. The pillars of the gambling hall began to weep. The skies turned dark. The sun hid in shame. Then, something happened—something truly incredible!

  Every time Dusshasana pulled away Draupadi’s sari, he found her covered with another sari. When he pulled that away, he found her still covered with yet another sari. He pulled several reams of fabric off Draupadi’s body but she remained covered, her honour intact.