Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata

by Devdutt Pattanaik

  The Newar community of Nepal worships Bhima as Bhairava, the violent form of Shiva, and offers him blood sacrifices.

  59

  Return of Arjuna

  Realizing that the climb would only get tougher, Bhima decided to summon his son, Ghatotkacha, born of his Rakshasa wife, Hidimbi. He remembered the last words he had heard his son speak, ‘Should you ever need my help, father, just think of me and I shall come.’

  Sure enough, as soon as Bhima thought of Ghatotkacha, the Rakshasa youth, who possessed both telepathic powers as well as the power of flight, arrived instantly. He came with many other Rakshasas. They carried all the Pandavas and their wife on their shoulders and helped them reach the highest peaks of the mountains.

  The Pandavas reached Alakapuri, the city of the Yakshas, where they were entertained by Kubera, king of the Yakshas. Both Yakshas and Rakshasas had a common ancestor, Pulastya’s son, Vaishrava. While the Yakshas lived in the north atop mountains, the Rakshasas lived south in forests. Yakshas were guardians of treasures and were extremely fond of riddles. Kubera had a mongoose that spat jewels every time he opened his mouth.

  The Pandavas also visited Badari, the cave where Nara and Narayana once meditated. The sages Lomasha and Dhaumya who accompanied the Pandavas said that Nara and Narayana were destined to walk the earth once more. It was whispered that they had taken birth as Arjuna and Krishna.

  Shortly thereafter, Arjuna descended from Amravati on a glittering flying chariot. Draupadi rushed to greet him. The Rishis welcomed him with garlands. His brothers requested him to show the divine weapons he had acquired from the gods.

  No sooner did he unwrap the weapons than the earth began to tremble, the wind stilled and the sun paled. All creatures from all the four quarters cried out, ‘Beware, beware. These are powerful weapons. They can destroy all life. Do not treat them with such disrespect.’ Arjuna immediately withdrew these weapons and wrapped them in celestial cloth, so that no mortal eyes could lay eyes on them.

  The Himalayan region is full of folktales associated with the Pandavas. Once, they saw a herd of cattle grazing and recognized among them Shiva who had taken the form of the most ferocious bull. Bhima tried to catch the bull but it disappeared; the hump remained above the ground and was worshipped as Kedarnath. Another time, Arjuna was defeated by a warrior who unknown to him was his own son Nagarjuna, born of a local Naga princess. This tale is similar to that of Babruvahan found later in the Sanskrit telling. Another tale refers to the hunt of a rhinoceros by Arjuna who wanted to present it as an offering to his dead father.

  In Bhasa’s play, Madyamavyayogam, dated 100 CE, Bhima rescues a Brahman boy from being devoured by a Rakshasa who turns out to be Ghatotkacha.

  In the Ramayana, Rakshasas are projected as a sophisticated race, related to the Yakshas. They live in golden cities and possess flying chariots. In the Mahabharata, they are projected as barbaric brutes lacking in sophistication.

  60

  Daughters of Balarama and Duryodhana

  It was time for Ghatotkacha to leave. Before parting, Ghatotkacha decided to tell his father’s family all that was happening in Dwaraka and in Hastina-puri, between the Yadavas and the Kauravas.

  Ghatotkacha said, ‘The children of Draupadi have grown up to be fine young men. And Subhadra’s son, Abhimanyu, has become a warrior of repute. They all live happily in the company of Krishna’s children. Balarama’s daughter, Vatsala, fell in love with Abhimanyu. Unfortunately for her, Balarama had fixed her marriage with Duryodhana’s son, Lakshman. As the wedding day approached, an unhappy Vatsala sought Krishna’s advice and Krishna sent for me. He ordered me to carry Vatsala on my shoulders and fly to the hills outside Dwaraka where Abhimanyu could marry her according to the rites of the Gandharvas, with the trees as witness. He then told me to take the form of Vatsala and pretend to be the bride. During the wedding, I squeezed Lakshman’s hand with such force that he fainted. With my identity revealed, there was chaos in Dwaraka. The Kauravas accused the Yadavas of duping them.’

  ‘Duryodhana would have been furious,’ said Bhima, unable to hold back his smile, ‘He wanted to marry Balarama’s sister, Subhadra, but she married Arjuna instead. He wanted his son to marry Balarama’s daughter, Vatsala, but she married Arjuna’s son instead.’

  ‘Duryodhana did not take this insult kindly,’ said Ghatotkacha. ‘To teach the Yadavas a lesson, he declared that his daughter, Lakshmani, would not marry Krishna’s son, Samba, as planned. Samba, not one to take this lying down, secretly slipped into Hastina-puri and tried to abduct Lakshmani, determined to marry her. But he was caught in the act and put in a dungeon. When Balarama learnt of this, he went to Hastina-puri alone and demanded Samba be released and allowed to return to Dwaraka along with the woman he loved. Duryodhana not only refused, he started insulting the Yadavas who never kept their word. He mocked their ancestor Yadu, whose descendants could never be kings because he did not suffer for his father. Duryodhana’s tirade so incensed Balarama that, in rage, he became a giant, his head reaching the sky. He swung his plough and hooked it on the foundations of Hastina-puri and started dragging the great city of the Kurus towards the sea. Duryodhana realized that Balarama was no ordinary Manava. He had known Balarama long as an expert in mace warfare, as a teacher and as a friend. Unlike Krishna who always favoured the Pandavas, Balarama had always treated him with extra affection. Now he had angered Balarama and had seen a side that he had never before imagined. He fell at Balarama’s feet and begged forgiveness. As you know, Balarama is quick to anger but also easily pacified. He forgave the Kauravas and returned to Dwaraka with Krishna’s son and his new wife.’

  The Pandavas imagined Balarama’s giant form. Who was he, truly, they wondered. And the Rishis revealed, ‘He is Sesha, the remainder. He who exists even when God is asleep and the world is dissolved. He is Adi, that which exists before the beginning, and Ananta, after the end. He is the great serpent in whose coils reclines God in the form of Vishnu.’

  All these tales once again reinforced what the Pandavas always suspected; Balarama and his younger brother, Krishna, were not quite what they appeared to be.

  Duryodhana was Balarama’s favourite. He wanted his sister to marry Duryodhana and his daughter to marry Duryodhana’s son. Both attempts were foiled by Krishna who got the women married to Arjuna and Arjuna’s son.

  It has been speculated that Balarama is a form of Shiva, the ascetic, guileless in nature, hence blinded in love and unable to see the flaws of the Kauravas.

  The story of Balarama’s daughter, known variously as Vatsala and Shasirekha, is part of many folk literatures. Illustrations of this tale in the Chitrakathi style have been found in 19th century manuscripts in Maharashtra.

  The story of the marriage of Krishna’s son and Duryodhana’s daughter comes from the Bhagavata Purana.

  The tales of the two marriages, one of a Yadava woman, Vatsala, and one of a Kaurava woman, Lakshmani, can be seen politically. As the family of Abhimanyu’s wife, the Yadavas are forced to side with the Pandavas and as the family of Samba’s wife, the Kauravas are forced to side with the Yadavas. Thus the marriages turn enemies into members of the same extended family, making it difficult to take sides.

  At a philosophical level, one can see the conflict between arranged marriages governed by the intellect and love marriages governed by emotions. What is appropriate conduct? Krishna clearly favours the heart over the head in matters of marriage. Or does he? For the marriages do impact political alliances, something that Krishna is well aware of.

  61

  Hanuman humbles Bhima

  One day, the wind carried with it a golden lotus with a thousand petals and a heavenly fragrance. ‘Can I have more of these?’ said Draupadi, her voice full of excitement.

  It had been a long time since Bhima had seen his wife so happy. ‘Yes, of course,’ he said, and set out in the direction from which the wind had carried the flower.

  Bhima walked straight, taking no turns, his strid
es long, forceful, impatient and full of determination. He smashed all that came in his way. Boulders, mountains, trees. Birds and beasts fled as they saw him approach. He was a man on a mission, determined to get his wife, who had suffered so much, those flowers that brought her so much joy.

  Finally, Bhima entered a thick plantain grove, so thick that sunlight did not reach the floor. He found there an old, frail monkey lying on the floor blocking his path. ‘Move aside,’ growled Bhima impatiently.

  ‘I am too old to move,’ said the monkey in a feeble voice. ‘Push my tail aside and be on your way.’

  ‘If you say so,’ said Bhima and proceeded to sweep the old monkey’s tail aside. To his surprise, the tail was heavy and immoveable. Despite all his strength, he could not kick it away. Bhima put down his mace and tried to pull it up with both his hands. He grunted as he used all his might but the tail remained where it was.

  Bhima stood up and looked at the old monkey curiously. This was no ordinary monkey. It was too strong. Suddenly, it dawned on Bhima that this monkey was none other than Hanuman, the commander of the monkey forces that helped Ram rescue Sita from the clutches of Ravana. It was said that Hanuman was destined never to die. Like him, Hanuman was the son of Vayu, the wind-god. That made Hanuman his brother.

  ‘Yes, I am he who you think I am. Your brother,’ said the old monkey sitting up, his eyes full of wisdom and compassion. Bhima realized that through Hanuman, Krishna was teaching him a lesson in humility. Thus enlightened, he bowed to Hanuman and proceeded on his journey, this time his steps a little less haughty.

  Finally, Bhima reached the lake where he found hundreds of fragrant golden lotuses. As he began plucking them for Draupadi, he was attacked by the Gandharvas who guarded the lake. Bhima swatted them aside as if they were mosquitoes and continued collecting the flowers. He then returned to where his brothers were with a huge bunch of flowers that Draupadi was delighted to receive.

  Just as Shiva teaches Arjuna, Hanuman teaches Bhima a lesson in humility. The forest transforms the Pandavas, makes them better kings. The tragedy of exile thus seems very much part of a divine plan to help men be better rulers.

  Once, Bhima pretended to have fever and requested Draupadi to massage his feet. He took large fruits and covered them with a bedsheet. Without removing the bedsheet, Draupadi massaged what she thought were the firm limbs of Bhima while her husbands watched from afar. When the truth was revealed, she was so angry that she cursed the fruits. In future, they would not be smooth; they would be covered with spikes. That is why the jackfruit skin is covered with spikes.

  The people of the Himalayas possessed different features from the people of the plains. That is why rationalists say they were described as demons and goblins, or Rakshasas and Yakshas, by the Aryas.

  The romance of Bhima and Draupadi is the stuff of many folk legends. In the horse dance of Tanjore, the riders of the dummy horses represent Bhima and Draupadi.

  62

  Draupadi admits a secret

  Memories of Draupadi’s humiliation plagued Bhima. He longed to make her happy but realized that he never could. She was always melancholy. Even physically, he who could satisfy a thousand women could never fully satisfy Draupadi. Why, he wondered?

  As the twelve years drew to a close, the Pandavas realized they were not what they were before the exile. Yudhishtira had cultivated the spirit of restraint. Both Arjuna and Bhima had learnt lessons in humility. But Draupadi, had she learnt anything?

  One day, while wandering through the woods, Draupadi came upon a rose-apple or Jambu tree on which she saw a low-hanging, fine-looking fruit which made her mouth water. No sooner did she pluck it than she heard the tree speak, ‘What have you done? This fruit has been hanging here for twelve years. On the other side of this tree sits a Rishi who has been performing tapasya for twelve long years. Later today, he will finally open his eyes and eat this fruit, his first meal in twelve years. But now you have contaminated the fruit with your touch. He will go hungry. And the demerit of making him go hungry will all be yours.’

  A terrified Draupadi fetched her husbands and begged them to do something. ‘You are strong, Bhima. Can you fix the fruit to the tree?’ Bhima shook his head helplessly. ‘What about you Arjuna? Can your arrows fix it?’ Arjuna also said no. There were many things strength and skill could do, but reattaching a plucked fruit was not one of them.

  The tree boomed, ‘If you were truly chaste, Draupadi, you could have done it with the power of your chastity.’

  ‘But I am chaste. Although I have five husbands, I am always faithful to the one brother who is allowed to come to my bed for a year.’

  ‘You lie, Draupadi. There is someone that you love more.’

  ‘I love Krishna, but as a friend, not as a husband or a lover,’ said Draupadi, embarrassed by this public discussion of her most intimate thoughts.

  ‘There is someone else you love. Someone else. Tell the truth, Draupadi.’

  Draupadi broke down. She did not want her secret to be the cause of a Rishi going hungry. She revealed the truth, ‘I love Karna. I regret not marrying him on account of his caste. If I had married him, I would not have been gambled away. I would not have been publicly humiliated. I would not have been called a whore.’

  The revelations came as a shock to the Pandavas. They were not sure whether to be angry with Draupadi or be ashamed of themselves. They realized they had failed her individually and collectively.

  Having revealed the truth of her heart, Draupadi had been cleansed. She was now able to attach the Jambu fruit to the Jambu tree. That evening, the Rishi opened his eyes after twelve years of tapasya. He took a dip in a nearby river, ate the Jambu fruit and blessed the Pandavas and their chaste wife, Draupadi.

  Both Bhima and Arjuna found it difficult to accept that their wife cared for Karna. One night, they saw Yudhishtira touching Draupadi’s feet. They demanded an explanation. In response, Yudhishtira asked them not to sleep that night. At midnight, the three brothers saw a vermilion-red Banyan tree rise outside their cave. Under it were nine lakh deities who invoked the Goddess. In response, Draupadi presented herself before them. They made her sit on a golden throne and showered her with flowers. Bhima and Arjuna realized that their wife was no ordinary woman; she was a form of the Goddess herself. Not only had they failed to protect her, they had even dared to judge her character.

  The story of the Jambu fruit comes from a folk play from Maharashtra called Jambul-akhyan. It is said that the Jambu fruit stains the tongue purple to remind us of all the secrets that we keep from the world. Folk narratives, in contrast to classical Sanskrit narratives, tend to be cruder and raw. They celebrate the imperfections of the human condition.

  In many folk epics, such as the Bhil Mahabharata, Draupadi is identified with the Goddess.

  In the Tamil Mahabharata, Draupadi is worshipped as Virapanchali. In various adventures, she helps her husbands find sacred objects such as a bell, a drum and a box of turmeric that will empower them to avenge her humiliation. One night, the Pandavas watch her run naked in the forest, hunt elephants and buffaloes and quench her thirst with their blood.

  According to one South Indian folktale, in order to satisfy his wife sexually, Bhima requests Krishna to enter his body and give him more power. Draupadi realizes this immediately and admonishes both her husband and her friend for attempting this mischief.

  The Goddess is the earth itself. Her relationship with Vishnu, the world-affirming form of God, expresses the changing relationship of man with the earth over time. As the first quarter of the world cycle drew to a close, marking the end of the world’s innocence, the Goddess was Renuka, mother of Vishnu who descended on the earth as Parashurama. As the second quarter of the world drew to a close, marking the end of the world’s youth, the Goddess was Sita, wife of Vishnu who descended on the earth as Ram. As the third quarter of the world drew to a close, marking the end of the world’s maturity, the Goddess was Draupadi, who God in the form of Krishna treated
as a sister and a friend.

  63

  Savitri and Satyavan

  Tired of her terrible situation, Draupadi one day asked the sages, ‘Is man fettered to his destiny? Can one change one’s fate?’

  In response, the sages told her the story of Savitri, a woman who overpowered death itself through love, determination and intelligence.

  Savitri, the only child of king Ashwapati, fell in love with a woodcutter called Satyavan and insisted on marrying him even after learning that he was in fact the son of a man who had lost his kingdom and that he was doomed to die in a year’s time. With great reluctance, Ashwapati gave his consent to the marriage, and Savitri happily gave up all royal comforts to live in the forest with her impoverished husband.

  A year later, Satyavan died and Savitri saw Yama take his life away before her very eyes. Rather than cremate her husband’s body, she decided to follow the god of death. Yama noticed the woman following him as he made his way south towards the land of the dead. The journey was long and Yama was sure Savitri would stop when she grew tired. But Savitri showed no signs of exhaustion. Her pursuit was relentless.

  ‘Stop following me,’ yelled Yama, but Savitri was determined to be wherever her husband was. ‘Accept your fate. Go back and cremate your husband’s body,’ said Yama, but Savitri cared more for her husband’s life breath that lay in Yama’s hands than her husband’s corpse that lay on the forest floor.