"I leave him in your hands, Balarama. I hope you have a month to spare to make a man of this fool. And let me tell you something else. If Drona had asked me that question, I too might have answered the way Suyodhana did, but I would nevertheless have followed through with a well-shot arrow that would have killed the poor parrot and ended its suffering quickly." With that, Bhishma left the room with faithful Vidhura following behind.
An amused Balarama stood shaking his head. The silence that ensued was embarrassing. The Prince did not know what to say to the smiling stranger. 'I am no fool,' he wanted to protest, but he was not too sure of the truth of such an assertion. He looked away, beyond the casements, at the main street that wound through the bustling bazaars and saw a couple of soldiers driving a black man like a bullock while people moved away in horror. They beat the man with canes so he would walk faster and move off the highway quickly. The poor man was crying in pain and calling piteously, "Krishna... Krishna... save me". Suyodhana saw to his dismay that the people were horrified not by the man's suffering but because they were afraid of the pollution the Untouchable could cause them by accidental contact. Suyodhana recognised the man being treated like a beast of burden - he was the witness who had come to testify against him - Jara.
"It is my brother." Balarama's voice behind him startled Suyodhana. The Yadava leader was gazing at the same sight. Suyodhana looked up at him in surprise. "No, not the poor beggar," Balarama said. "He is praying to my brother, Krishna, who is quite a charmer and has started playing God recently. Many believe he is the avatar spoken of in the holy books."
"Do you believe it?" Suyodhana asked in surprise, glad the ice had been broken.
"What... my brother being God? Ha ha! I believe he loves playing practical jokes. Nevertheless, on another level, I do believe everyone has God within them, so there is no falsehood in claiming Godhood. By the way, is there any truth to Bhishma's complaints about you?"
The directness of the query took Suyodhana aback. His instincts told him to trust this man. All that lay suppressed in his mind burst forth. The Prince told Balarama how he abhorred violence and how it made him an indifferent warrior. He said he did not find glory in harming others. He said that he hated the competitive and combative one-upmanship that society demanded and which Gurus like Drona expected from their students. He spoke passionately about the hatred he felt towards his cousins and how he wished them dead. Though it contradicted his talk of non-violence, Balarama seemed not to notice it. Suyodhana finally ended his tirade and stood in silence.
Balarama did not reply for what seemed an age. Then he said slowly, "Suyodhana, it is your fear that speaks. You mistake it for kindness, abhorrence of violence, etc. You are afraid of the superior skills of your cousins and your own failure. You have a good heart and are intelligent, but that is not enough to survive and succeed in life. The hatred you feel towards your cousins is consuming you. There is no need to hate anyone, however repugnant his acts may be. Hate the deed, not the person. You are right in saying you hate the mindless competition of modern times; the often pathological pursuit of material pleasures at the cost of all humanity; the indifference of the successful classes towards their less fortunate brethren; and the vice-like grip of caste, regionalism, gender bias, violence, fanaticism, corruption, sycophancy, nepotism and terrorism, on the people. One should hate these things. But what are you doing about it? People like you sit in their cosy chambers and complain about how things are. You take a token tour of the slums and patronize the poor. Why do you not make a few statements to declare your hatred of these evils and make some noise in public places - to convince yourself and a few other poor souls, that you are indeed a champion of such causes? Are you taking any concrete action to change the system?" Balarama paused and Suyodhana looked even more confused.
"I am not helping you understand am I, Prince? I am not a good speaker or Guru, so I will put it in simple language. I have an aim in my life. It is to make our land prosperous again through agriculture and trade. We have lost the traditions of the Asuras, who were great seafarers. We have lost the traditions of the Nagas - they were farmers who tamed the earth and made the soil yield gold. I want to lead my people away from their primitive existence as a pastoral community or hunter-gathers and take them back to that lost glory. Taboos and religion have shackled us. I strive to break free. You may wonder how a single man can do all this and that is precisely the point. I have a goal that is too big for me. It fills me with a passion to live and achieve. I enjoy every moment of my life and ensure that I take a step forward every second, towards my aim. You should visit the beautiful port city I am building. Dwaraka is my dream! Do you have such a dream? A dream that is bigger than you; that you feel is impossible or even ridiculous to think about?"
Suyodhana was not sure how to answer. Did he have such a dream? His ideas were vague, he acted on impulse and refused to follow everything the Guru said or the scriptures demanded, without questioning it first. But he did not know whether he had an all-consuming passion.
Seeing the confusion in the young Prince's face, Balarama continued, "Suyodhana, you may not be sure whether you have such a dream but it is there, you are just too young to recognize it. I will give you a method to discover the dream hiding in your heart. What makes you passionate, angry, irritated, frustrated, happy and sad at the same time? What makes you feel alive?"
Suyodhana immediately said, "Sir, I felt angry, irritated, happy and sad seeing that young Untouchable they brought to Court today. I was angered by his plight, irritated that he testified against me, happy that he was getting a chance to see what is forbidden to people like him; and sad that he was being manipulated. I feel the same passion when I see our dirty streets and the people living like filthy pigs. I feel angry at the system and traditions that keep them living like that. I feel irritated that they do not wake up and fight. But I admire their resilience. I admire how they still manage to make a living out of nothing. I am frustrated that I cannot do anything about it and saddened to see so many live in misery in my land."
Balarama smiled and touched Suyodhana's shoulder. "It is a beginning. This conversation will not change your life. Nevertheless, you have found a ray of light. Work on it. Your dream of a misery-free society is too big and ridiculous. It will give you a purpose in life. Better men have tried and failed. Every era produces men who dare to dream the impossible. They are not perfect human beings or incarnations of Gods on our poor earth. They are mere mortals and have many faults. Many who tried, failed by a whisker, but that did not take away the sheen of their achievements. I have trained myself to dream. So has Bhishma and Carvaka, the atheist. Our methods are different, yet our aim is the same. Who knows which path is right? Perhaps my path of peace and meditation and belief in a higher power to guide my conscience, is the right one. Perhaps the practicality of Bhishma, who feels change has to be worked slowly and if required, with violence, is right. Maybe Carvaka knows best and there is no God, and human beings have to love and be compassionate towards one other and enjoy life to the hilt. Perhaps we are all wrong. It does not matter. The dream is what counts."
"You talk of peace and non-violence but there is violence everywhere in the world. I too, think non-violence is the right way, but I am faced with violence. Bhima harasses me every day and because I hate arms, I have not acquired enough skill to defend myself," Suyodhana blurted out, immediately regretting his words. What he had said sounded so commonplace next to what Balarama had said with such passion.
Balarama smiled at him. "Let us go outside. Call your brother Sushasana, and Aswathama too. One of His Excellency Bhishma's requests is that I instil an interest in arms in you." Balarama began walking towards the door.
This sudden order mildly irritated Suyodhana. Balarama had not answered his questions. But Sushasana and Aswathama were waiting outside. When Suyodhana introduced them, they immediately bowed to the Yadava leader.
"Go and get the maces, the heavy ones," Balarama ordered. Sushasa
na quickly ran off in great excitement to get the weapons.
They walked towards the practice grounds as Sushasana and a guard returned with maces of different sizes, a few swords and daggers, and even bows and arrows. Balarama tried every weapon for weight and build, commenting on the superior workmanship of the Hastinapura arms. Then he took up a heavy mace and handed it to Suyodhana. He took one himself and invited Suyodhana to face him. Balarama quickly stripped down to his loincloth and made Suyodhana do the same. Suyodhana observed that the Yadava leader was built like an ox and muscles rippled all over his body. Sushasana and Aswathama sucked in their breath in admiration as Balarama spread his legs and raised the mace in combat position. Then, without warning, he attacked the bewildered Suyodhana.
"Defend yourself fool! Hit back! Move..." Balarama screamed at the confused Prince. Suyodhana tried to remember all the lessons he had learnt from Drona, but Balarama was all over him like a typhoon, raining blows on him mercilessly. In less than a minute, Balarama's strong legs had pinned Suyodhana firmly to the ground. He mockingly raised the mace and brought it gently down on Suyodhana's head. He looked at Aswathama and Sushasana, who obligingly cried out, "Phut!" gesturing with their hands to indicate an exploding head. They laughed as an angry Suyodhana squirmed under Balarama's right foot.
Suyodhana looked at them angrily and was about to curse when his heart jumped into his mouth. He was not sure whether it was a hallucination or what he saw was in fact real. He gaped at the beautiful girl standing near Aswathama, laughing at his plight. Did such beauty exist in the world? He observed her perfect teeth, the sparkling eyes and small nose, which tilted slightly upward, her rosy cheeks and perfect body. His heart sank. He was not making a favourable impression on the ground. Her eyes met his and then looked away, shy and embarrassed.
"No wonder you hate violence, Suyodhana! Non-violence is the first defence of the coward," said Balarama, while the others laughed. "Do you know why Bhima beats you every time? Because he fights with passion. His passion might be selfish, maybe he wants to get the better of you or prove he is superior, but still he fights with passion. If you want to get the better of him, fight with even greater passion. The greater the passion, the better you will fight. I will give you a mantra. You were telling me what you felt when you saw that poor Untouchable today. Every time you act, imagine his face. Let the face of that poor man remind you of your impossible dream. Before every deed, think about how it will affect that poor man and countless others like him. Fighting for glory is a small passion. Fighting for the voiceless, powerless, ignorant and poor, will put fire in your veins and give your muscles incredible power. Then you will not be alone. The whole Universe will come to your aid. Who can stop you then? Now get up and fight like a man." Balarama lifted his foot from Suyodhana's chest and helped him up. The girl stifled a giggle and Suyodhana blushed. "Now block that!" Balarama lashed out at Suyodhana, who stumbled and fell again.
The girl and his friends were laughing hysterically. Suyodhana felt his blood boil with shame. His eyes met those of the girl and he found himself on fire. Suyodhana parried Balarama's next hit quickly and surprised them both. Balarama smiled and changed tactics. Suyodhana fought with passion, desperate to impress the girl. It took almost five minutes for Balarama to pin him down again and he was panting with the exertion. Sweat glistened on his chiselled body as Suyodhana lay squirming under his powerful foot.
"That was better, Suyodhana, though I doubt it was your big dream that was fuelling your passion. Now get up and meet Subhadra, my sister. Subhadra, this is Suyodhana, Crown Prince of Hastinapura. Please spare the poor Prince your pranks." Balarama lifted his foot and affectionately placed a huge hand on his sister's beautiful hair.
'What a position in which to be introduced to the most beautiful girl in the world,' thought Suyodhana ruefully as he rose from his awkward position, trying to smile and look presentable in his loincloth. He felt bashful at being almost naked in front of this girl. The stupid grins of his brother and friend did not help matters at all. Blood had clotted on his shoulder. He wanted to touch his wound but wondered if she would consider it unmanly. He stood gaping at her sparkling eyes as she moved towards him.
Subhadra gently touched his bloodied shoulder and said, "My brother is a brute. See what you have done to the poor Prince."
Suyodhana blushed to the roots of his hair and felt his throat go dry.
"Suyodhana, beware of her. She is a witch. You all go along now. I have important matters to discuss with Bhishma. At the same time tomorrow, we will resume our practice. You two can join in if you want," Balarama told Aswathama and Sushasana, as he got dressed. Then he walked away, leaving the lovely young woman in the company of the three teenagers.
Suyodhana stood awkwardly, his natural shyness struggling with the pleasant sensation in his heart. He did not know how to make small talk. Sushasana grabbed her hand and said, "Beautiful bangles!"
"Don't touch me!" Subhadra snapped. But Suyodhana did not miss the smile that flashed before she hid it.
Sushasana was taken aback for a moment but recovered with his characteristic resilience. He was a master at charming girls and completely unused to rejection. Aswathama had taken up a bow and arrow and was aiming at a distant tree. Suyodhana knew he would hit the target with perfect marksmanship. No girl could remain impervious to such skill. His heart sank. He was no match for his rivals. Hell! He had met her a few minutes ago and here he was considering his brother and best friend his rivals!
"If Sushasana and Aswathama will excuse us, I have a few things to discuss with Prince Suyodhana," Subhadra said coolly and grabbed Suyodhana's hand and started walking away.
Suyodhana took a few steps with her in a daze and then realised he was still in his loincloth. He stopped in embarrassment. Subhadra raised her pretty eyebrows in a question. Suyodhana looked longingly at his pile of clothes and she burst out laughing. Suyodhana ran quickly to get his clothes but Aswathama and Sushasana looked at each other and dived for the pile first. But Suyodhana was quicker as his need was more desperate and he managed to get hold of his dhoti, though Aswathama got his shawl.
"Oh, leave them and come with me," said Subhadra with a small shake of her head, completing the young Prince's downfall.
Suyodhana awkwardly put on his dhoti, unsure whether to face her while he was regaining his modesty or turn towards his grinning friends. Finally, having tightly secured his dhoti so it would not slip off and embarrass him further, he looked towards Subhadra. He heard a soft whistle from Aswathama while Sushasana rolled his eyes. As he followed Subhadra like a man in a trance, he heard his friend commenting to his brother, "Two minutes and he has forgotten his companions. He sucks."
"Fool!" Sushasana said in disgust.
Suyodhana smiled at the hint of jealousy in their voices. He looked at Subhadra's beautiful face and his eyes involuntarily slipped to the shapely breasts that rose like lotuses under the soft silk of her choli. He had only seen such beauty as the curve of her flat, smooth stomach with its perfect navel in temple sculptures before. His hungry eyes caressed the soft curves of her buttocks and the long legs that ended in beautiful feet. The long fingers, which grabbed his wrist and the smooth shoulders and flowing tresses, drove him insane. He knew not where to let his eyes linger and caress. He only knew he was incredibly happy. He had never thought first love could be so sweet.
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13 DHARMAVEERA
THE AIR WAS HOT AND HUMID but that did not take anything away from the bewitching beauty of the surroundings. To the east, majestic blue mountains kissed the skies and verdant valleys slept in their misty quilt. On a narrow strip of land, myriad colours bloomed, as if nature was celebrating her fecundity. Tall coconut palms stood like sentinels beside the winding rivers and enchanting backwaters. A deep-green sea caressed the sun-kissed beaches, while a gentle breeze played hide-and-seek in the cool shade of gigantic trees. But all this beauty was a farce.
The sprawling and ancient port city of Muzaris was in a festive mood. All the great Asura Kings who ruled lands south of the Vindhya ranges had assembled in this slowly dying city for a great event. This day would decide who would win the coveted title of Dharmaveera. The title was given to the champion of martial arts, following a tough competition involving all branches of warfare. Warriors from the Brahmin and Kshatriya communities assembled every six years at the majestic arena on the banks of the river Poorna, to decide who was the mightiest warrior in their midst. Though warriors came to compete from every kingdom in India, the disciples of Parashurama took the title every time.
Parashurama was the master of all the kingdoms south of the Vindhyas. He was not a King, but a kingmaker. All the Asura Kings obeyed his decrees in religious and political matters. It would not have been wrong to say that his family was responsible for all the misery around. Thousands of years ago, members of the Parashurama family had brought the mighty Asura Empire to its knees. After the fall of Mahabali and Ravana, the first Parashurama had crushed the spirit of the once-proud Asura race. Now the Asura Kings cowered before Bhargava Parashurama and his men. Over the years, the Parashuramas had conducted no less than sixty-four raids into kingdoms across India, beheading Kings who did not fall in line. These bloody raids had resulted in the mass murder and annihilation of many races. The Devas, Asuras, Nagas, Gandharvas and many others, had faced Parashurama's tyranny. The present Parashurama and his army of suppliant Asura Kings, in their mission to impose their religion throughout India, had overthrown even Indra of the Deva clan. The last Indra was a weak King who ruled a small principality on the banks of the upper Ganga. The victory had been symbolic of Brahmin might overcoming the Kshatriyas and other castes. Now everyone cowered when Parashurama's name was mentioned. What was important to Bhargava was that he was acknowledged as the best warrior and general in India.
AJAYA I -- Roll of the Dice Page 18