Hearing no voice raised in protest and quite unnerved – perhaps believing that Karṇa's view on the dharma of the situation holds sway – the Pāṇḍavas remove their upper garments. But Draupadī stands firm. Then Duṣśāsana, vile as ever, compounds his villainy by trying to strip Draupadī by force in full view. But, wonder of wonders, ‘Draupadī’s garment being removed, another just like it appeared time and again’! The assembly is in uproar. The enraged Bhīma, who sees his wife thus abused, utters a terrible curse against Duṣśāsana. He swears that he will rip the miscreant open on the battlefield and drink his blood. Frustrated and abashed, Duṣśāsana finally gives up. There is a pile of clothes on the floor and Draupadī remains covered. The Kauravas are condemned by the onlookers for their actions, and an answer to Draupadī’s question is demanded again. Note, in passing, that whatever the solution to the riddle may be, the text has implied that Draupadī is a righteous woman, and that she has not been treated righteously. Otherwise, her final humiliation would not have been thwarted and her modesty miraculously preserved.
This is one of the most famous incidents of the Mahābhārata, and in popular retellings of the story down the ages – in contrast to the pregnant silence of the critical edition – Draupadī invokes Kṛṣṇa in her moment of need and the garments covering her keep appearing by his grace. In such representations of the dicing incident, Kṛṣṇa is given supernormal powers, in keeping with his status as Supreme Lord in other parts of the epic. A. Hiltebeitel has pointed out that in the critical edition of the text, elsewhere in the narrative, there are indications that Kṛṣṇa has indeed been invoked6; but in the context of the dicing match, the critical edition makes no mention as to whether, at this crucial moment, Kṛṣṇa comes to Draupadī’s rescue or has been invoked at all. This is where critical editions fall down in the face of popular imagination and piety. Be that as it may, in the final analysis, dharma has vindicated Draupadī. Her faith in dharma has not been void, although it has cost her dear.
Now Vidura speaks again. He has already declared his hand, for which he has been accused of disloyalty, so he tries a different approach. The assembly must pronounce on Draupadī’s question, he affirms, or it has failed in its duty. He tells the story of Virocana and Sudhanvan who staked their lives in a quarrel over a girl. It was agreed that the one not adjudged the more suitable man would lose his life. They asked Virocana's father, Prahlāda, to judge between them. Prahlāda, who had no doubt in the matter, consulted the sage Kaśyapa as to what would happen ifhe lied. Kaśyapa answered:
When dharma pierced by adharma takes recourse to an assembly, then the assembly-members themselves are pierced [by adharma] if they do not remove [dharma’s] irritant ... They who would speak falsely to one asking about dharma, ruin their religious merit and seven generations of ancestors and descendants.
(2.61.69,72)
Suitably warned, Prahlāda gave an honest reply, even though it meant the loss of his son: Sudhanvan, not Virocana, was the better man, he admitted. But Prahlāda had occasion to rejoice; because he respected dharma and told the truth, Sudhanvan rewarded him by not claiming his son's life. Even so, concludes Vidura, must dharma be honestly addressed in this assembly.
Vidura's message is indirect but clear: as the attempt at disrobing has shown, Draupadī is dharma afflicted by the adharma of her persecutors’ actions, and has been vindicated by dharma. She has taken recourse to the assembly. Like Prahlāda, let the assembly in general and Dhṛtarāṣṭra in particular take Yudhiṣṭhira's side in this conflict and, disowning their own ‘son’ Duryodhana, adjudge Yudhiṣṭhira the better man.
But even this appeal fails to elicit the desired response. The elders of the assembly remain silent, for, as the text says later, they were afraid to offend Duryodhana (2.62.22). And so the drama continues.
Draupadī appeals to the better nature of those in the assembly. She recounts how she, a virtuous and noble woman, solicitously protected by the Pāṇḍavas in the past – and now by marriage a member of the Kaurava family – has been humiliated in the sight of all. None, not even her husbands, have sought to defend her. She says:
The Kurus allow – what perverse times! – their innocent daughter-in-law and daughter to be molested. Can there be greater shame than this, that I a woman, pure, beautiful, now plunge into the middle of the assembly! Where is the dharma of you lords? We all know that one does not bring dharmic women before the assembly. That ancient, eternal dharma is surely lost for the Kauravas! ... Tell me what you think, Kurus, whether I've been won or not. I want an answer, and by that I'll abide.
(2.62.7–9,13)
Is not the thrust of Draupadī’s allegation in keeping with our analysis of dharma, made earlier in this book? Can we not say that what lies behind this statement is the understanding that that eternal, subtle, transcendent dharma of which we spoke (towards the end of Chapter 6), which descends to earth in various ways and contexts, has ceased to manifest in the behaviour of the Kurus? This is the meaning behind Draupadī’s remark about the ‘eternal dharma’ in the passage above, viz. that the Kurus had lost (sight of) it. Bhīṣma makes a telling reply. He still does not answer Draupadī’s question, but makes a somewhat cynical, evasive comment on dharma. Dharma, he remarks, will triumph;still, it is hard to grasp. He continues: ‘That which a powerful person sees as dharma in the world is accepted as dharma by others when dharma is at issue. I cannot speak to your question with certainty, for this matter is subtle, obscure and serious’ (2.62.14–16). Bhīṣma has made a travesty of dharma here;having denied it a transcendent source, he now makes of it a construct of human scheming. Its true eternality (‘sanātana-’) has been lost;at most, it is ‘eternal’ only in so far as it is a contingent product of historical longevity. Bhīṣma does not want to be accused of disloyalty – he lives in Dhṛtarāṣṭra's court!
But there is no doubt as to where his sympathies lie. ‘Before long this line will come to an end’, he adds, ‘for all the Kurus are set on greed and delusion ... whereas you, [Draupadī], though you have suffered much, have regard only for dharma’ (2.62.17,19). In short, the Kaurava protagonists of this terrible affair are manipulating dharma to suit their ends, but you are the righteous one, Draupadī, even though I cannot say this in so many words. Then, in time-honoured fashion, Bhīṣma throws the ball into someone else's court. ‘I believe Yudhiṣṭhira has the measure (pramāṇa) to answer this question. He himself is quite competent to declare whether you have been won or not’.
But Duryodhana seizes on this suggestion to initiate new devilry. Let the four younger Pāṇḍavas declare that Yudhiṣṭhirahad no right to wager Draupadī, he says, and she may go free. In that case, he will cut the Gordian knot of Draupadī’s conundrum at a stroke. Alternatively, he continues, let Yudhiṣṭhira pronounce on the matter himself.
Now Yudhiṣṭhira had a great reputation for being a man of his word and devoted to the truth. As an indication of this, one of his names was ‘Dharmarāja’ or ‘Dharma-King’. Duryodhana confronts the Pāṇḍavas with a vicious dilemma. If the four younger brothers agree that Yudhiṣṭhira spoke falsely when he wagered Draupadī – because, having lost himself, he had no right to stake their joint wife – then Draupadī goes free. But then Yudhiṣṭhira will be dishonoured as a liar. In short, it is a choice between their eldest brother's, their king's, honour, and their wife's freedom.
If Yudhiṣṭhira, however, pronounces on the matter, his dilemma is this: either he stands by his action as a gambler and the word it implied that he was entitled to wager Draupadī – in which case his (and his brothers’) wife must submit to servitude at Duryodhana's hands – or he must admit that he spoke and acted falsely when Draupadī was staked. In the latter event, everyone will be released, but the Pāṇḍavas will be publicly disgraced.
Again, there is uproar in the assembly-hall. Some cheer, others lament; then there is an expectant hush as everyone looks at the Pāṇḍavas. How will they react? The two-pron
ged riddle is quickly reduced to a single barb. Speaking on behalf of the four younger brothers, the second eldest, Bhīma, submits to Yudhiṣṭhira's authority. Yudhiṣṭhira will decide the issue. Bhīma says: ‘If Yudhiṣṭhira, Dharma-King, were not our guru, the head of our family, we would not have suffered. But he is master of our merits and austerities, lord of our lives. If he considers himself won (jita), then we are lost (vijita)’ (2.62.32–3).7 Bhīma can do nothing;he feels he is ‘bound by the noose of dharma’.
How does Yudhiṣṭhira respond – the head of the family, the master of his brothers’ lives? In the same curious manner as before. He sits ‘silent and mindless’ (2.63.8), as passive as ever. Emboldened, it is Duryodhana now who grievously insults Draupadī. In full view, he bares his left thigh at her – a highly obscene gesture.8 The wrathful Bhīma, infuriated, makes another vow. He will smash that thigh with his mace in a great battle (he'll keep this vow too).
Then, just when it seems that an impasse has been reached and the Pāṇḍavas’ enemies have the upper hand, the Pāṇḍavas are saved by the bell (or its cultural equivalent). A jackal howls during the solemn agnihotra sacrifice being conducted on behalf of Dhṛtarāṣṭra's household, and this is followed by other inauspicious signs. Informed of this, the blind king Dhṛtarāṣṭra, blind for so long to what has being going on, in fact, and the one person with authority to put a stop to events, comes to his senses. He reprimands Duryodhana for mistreating Draupadī whom he calls a ‘dharma-wife’ (dharma-patnī, i.e. either a ‘dharmic wife’ or ‘the wife of Dharma, viz. Yudhiṣṭhira’;in any case, he repudiates Karṇa's charge that she is a loose woman). Then he offers Draupadī a boon.
Draupadī asks for the freedom of her most senior husband, Yudhiṣṭhira, whose addiction had brought this misfortune upon her. It is granted. Dhṛtarāṣṭra offers her a second boon. Draupadī requests the freedom of her other four husbands. This too is granted. Then Dhṛtarāṣṭra says, ‘Choose a third. Two boons don't do you justice. For, of all my daughters-in-law you are the best, for you live by dharma’ (dharmacāriṇī; 2.63.33). Well, Draupadī could now choose anything; the king can hardly go back on his word. A suitable punishment for Duryodhana or Duṣśāsana perhaps, or double the wealth her husband has lost? But again she abides by dharma: ‘Greed makes for the destruction of dharma’, she answers, ‘I am not worthy to receive a third boon ... They say that ... a Kṣatriya woman can have two boons’, and she has had her two. She will ask for no more. Who or what, we may ask, came to the Pāṇḍavas’ rescue when the jackal howled? Was it fate, or the gods? Was it dharma manifesting its transcendent power? The question remains open.
Our story is nearly ended, although Karṇa did not want to let things pass without a final swipe at the Pāṇḍavas. Whoever heard of such a thing? he asks. ‘Draupadī has become the haven here of Pāṇḍu's sons! When they had fallen into the deep, sinking without a ship to support them, Draupadī became the boat to bring them ashore!’ (2.64.2–3). This is intended as an insult to the Pāṇḍava brothers – saved by a woman! – but it is also grudging praise for the woman who saved them.
By and large, however, the matter had ended. No one could gainsay the king, Dhṛtarāṣṭra's, decision. He gives the Pāṇḍavas leave to return to their kingdom in peace, and restores all that has been lost in that ‘friendly’ game of dice, appealing to Yudhiṣṭhira not to bear ill will against Duryodhana. ‘I intended this game just for fun (prekṣāpūrva)’, says the king. ‘I wanted to see my friends (the Pāṇḍavas) and how my sons would square up to them’. So much, then, for a friendly game of dice!
There is a sequel to this episode. While the Pāṇḍavas are still on their way home, Duryodhana and his cronies once more persuade the old king to summon his nephews to a final throw of dice (to complete that twentieth round, its previous throw having been discounted by the king). Their plan is simple. This time they will play for the following stake: the losers will spend 12 years in exile in the forest, and then a thirteenth year trying to live incognito among the people (if their disguise is penetrated during this year, they are to spend another twelve years in the forest). Śakuni will cheat again, win the throw, and in this way the Kauravas will rid themselves of their rivals once and for all. Dhṛtarāṣṭra agrees once more, and for the same reason – his love for his son. The game is played and Yudhiṣṭhira promptly loses (he is as fatalistic as ever). The Pāṇḍava brothers and Draupadī go off into exile and make it possible for the epic narrative to continue.9
But let us focus on the (first) dicing game (for reasons given in note 1). Though our account of it has been condensed appreciably, it is to be hoped that it affords an insight into the high drama of the world of the Mahābhārata. We have the ingredients here of any modern soap or blockbuster: family rivalry, hunger for power, unbridled ambition, deceit and glamour, sex, passion and addiction, humiliation, duty and rescue, and so on. In popular retellings, the religious tone of the text comes to the fore: the Pāṇḍavas are friends of the Lord Kṛṣṇa who helps them in their travails, and who, just before the start of the great battle of the epic, reveals himself to Arjuna as the Supreme Lord of creation, who has descended in human form for the welfare of the world. Perhaps it is clearer now why narrative pāṭha, generally similar to the Mbh. in style, is so popular in Hinduism. The tellings and retellings in their various forms, with their modern glosses, keep not only the characters of the stories alive but also invigorate the religious atmosphere in which they live, and in the process comfort, instruct and encourage those who engage with these narratives as they seek to cope with the vicissitudes of life.
Part II
Let us return to the story in the context of our treatment of dharma. Though we have focused in this account on the tension in ‘dharma’ between ‘chance and ‘necessity’, the tension between disorder and order emerges too, and we shall deal with this first, in terms of the events of the story.
In this sense, dharma is order, natural and imposed, in the midst of threatened or apparent disorder. When Draupadī protests to Duṣśāsana that she does not wish to transgress the ‘qualities proper to her (svaguṇān)’, both kinds of dharmic order are implied. First, the natural – she is born to the responsibilities of a Kṣatriya woman. These include the display of courage on her part, but also the supporting if not encouraging of her menfolk to maintain their Kṣatriya honour. Is it an accident that later in the epic Draupadī refers to her humiliation during the dicing incident more than once as reason for revenge against the Pāṇḍavas’ and their friends’ enemies? As P. Bhattacharya felicitously puts it: ‘The relationship [between Draupadī and her husbands] is constantly that of a mahout goading an elephant into the fray’ (2005:91). This gives added edge to Durga Bhagavat's remarkable assessment of her character, quoted earlier. Draupadī is the traditional Kṣatriya wife and mother writ large.
There are also juridical connotations in the dicing incident's account of dharma. These bear on the fact that Draupadī, very unusually for the Brahminic tradition, has five husbands. Vikarṇa implies that she is lawfully wed to all five (‘the blameless woman belongs to all the Pāṇḍavas’: 2.61.23); Karṇa vehemently disagrees. Bhīṣma says inconclusively that the law is subtle, obscure and hard to fathom. And we cannot overlook the naturalistic connotation here of ritual impurity. Draupadī is in her menstrual period, which makes her ritually impure; during this time she must be segregated or she will render others ritually impure too by contact. So stripping Draupadī naked before strange men would not only violate her natural integrity as a woman, but also run the risk of defiling others. Impetuous Bhīma, who generally sees issues in black and white, implies as much after Dhṛtarāṣṭra has granted Draupadī her boons and the Pāṇḍavas, now free, are preparing to leave the king's presence. He says to Arjuna, ‘Our lustre has been dimmed because our wife's been defiled. How can one have a defiled child?’ (2.64.7). But Draupadī has done nothing wrong during her ordeal, so the implicati
on is that this is a ritual defilement. Arjuna replies to the effect that they should know their own worth which exceeds that of Duṣśāsana (i.e. perhaps their worth will make up for their wife's defilement).
But dharma here also has moral connotations. Draupadī’s nakedness would also have violated dharma in the moral sense, for it would have excited the lust of onlookers. Not only should a virtuous woman refuse to have sex with anyone not entitled to have sex with her – in wishing to preserve ‘the qualities proper to her’ Draupadī strives to comply with this moral requirement – but she should not willingly be an occasion of wanton lust. The extraordinary ‘cover-up’ that occurred when Duṣśāsana tried to strip her frustrated both kinds of transgression, natural (at least to the extent of not violating her integrity as a woman) and moral.
Again, in advising Duryodhana to abide by his own dharma, it is dharma as natural order that Dhṛtarāṣṭra has residually in mind. Duryodhana is born to the calling of a Kṣatriya. The goal of a Kṣatriya is to behave and act honourably with respect to stage and station in life, not to pursue wealth for its own sake. Duryodhana turns the argument on its head to suit his lust for power and revenge. The calling of a Kṣatriya, he contends, is to win at all costs, irrespective of whether dharma or adharma lies in the way. He will follow his calling – his interpretation of it, that is – which he bolsters by appealing to tendencies in his nature placed in the womb by the ‘one Guide’ (2.57.8), who remains unidentified.
It is clear that the text regards this interpretation as wrong, for he is censured unequivocally more than once during the episode, and the thwarted attempt to disrobe Draupadī as well as his father's final reprimand endorse this condemnation. Indeed, Draupadī’s dharma overcomes Duryodhana's (a)dharma. For Hindus, human dharma has always had moral and naturalistic connotations.
Hindus: Their Religious Beliefs and Practices (The Library of Religious Beliefs and Practices) Page 43