In the early 1980s, quite by chance, I encountered two shlokas, one from Valmiki’s Ramayana, the other from Kalidasa’s Meghadutam. These were two poets separated by anything between 500 to 1,000 years, the exact period being an uncertain one. The shloka in Meghadutam is right towards the beginning, the second shloka to be precise. It is the first day in the month of Ashada. The yaksha has been cursed and has been separated from his beloved. The mountains are covered with clouds. These clouds are like elephants, bent down as if in play. The shloka in the Valmiki Ramayana occurs in Sundara Kanda. Rama now knows that Sita is in Lanka. But the monsoon stands in the way of the invasion. The clouds are streaked with flags of lightning and garlanded with geese. They are like mountain peaks and are thundering, like elephants fighting. At that time, I did not know that elephants were a standard metaphor for clouds in Sanskrit literature. I found it amazing that two different poets separated by time had thought of elephants. And because the yaksha was pining for his beloved, the elephants were playing. But because Rama was impatient to fight, the elephants were fighting. I resolved that I must read all this in the original. It was a resolution I have never regretted. I think that anyone who has not read Meghadutam in Sanskrit has missed out on a thing of beauty that will continue to be a joy for generations to come.
In the early 1980s, Professor Ashok Rudra was a professor of economics in Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan. I used to teach in Presidency College, Kolkata, and we sometimes met. Professor Rudra was a left-wing economist and didn’t think much of my economics. I dare say the feeling was reciprocated. By tacit agreement, we never discussed economics. Instead, we discussed Indological subjects. At that point, Professor Rudra used to write essays on such subjects in Bengali. I casually remarked, ‘I want to do a statistical test on the frequency with which the five Pandavas used various weapons in the Kurukshetra war.’ Most sensible men would have dismissed the thought as crazy. But Professor Rudra wasn’t sensible by usual norms of behaviour and he was also a trained statistician. He encouraged me to do the paper, written and published in Bengali, using the Aryashastra edition. Several similar papers followed, written in Bengali. In 1983, I moved to Pune, to the Gokhale Institute of Politics and Economics, a stone’s throw away from BORI. Annals of the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute (ABORI) is one of the most respected journals in Indology. Professor G.B. Palsule was then the editor of ABORI and later went on to become Director of BORI. I translated one of the Bengali essays into English and went and met Professor Palsule, hoping to get it published in ABORI. To Professor Palsule’s eternal credit, he didn’t throw the dilettante out. Instead, he said he would get the paper refereed. The referee’s substantive criticism was that the paper should have been based on the critical edition, which is how I came to know about it. Eventually, this paper (and a few more) were published in ABORI. In 1989, these became a book titled Essays on the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, published when the Mahabharata frenzy had reached a peak on television. The book got excellent reviews, but hardly sold. It is now out of print. As an aside, the book was jointly dedicated to Professor Rudra and Professor Palsule, a famous economist and a famous Indologist respectively. Both were flattered. However, when I gave him a copy, Professor Rudra said, ‘Thank you very much. But who is Professor Palsule?’ And Professor Palsule remarked, ‘Thank you very much. But who is Professor Rudra?’
While the research interest in the Mahabharata remained, I got sidetracked into translating. Through the 1990s, there were abridged translations of the Maha Puranas, the Vedas and the eleven major Upanishads. I found that I enjoyed translating from the Sanskrit to English and since these volumes were well received, perhaps I did do a good job. With Penguin as publisher, I did a translation of the Bhagavad Gita, something I had always wanted to do. Sarama and Her Children, a book on attitudes towards dogs in India, also with Penguin, followed. I kept thinking about doing an unabridged translation of the Mahabharata and waited to muster up the courage. That courage now exists, though the task is daunting. With something like two million words and ten volumes expected, the exercise seems open-ended. But why translate the Mahabharata? In 1924, George Mallory, with his fellow climber Andrew Irvine, may or may not have climbed Mount Everest. They were last seen a few hundred metres from the summit, before they died. Mallory was once asked why he wanted to climb Everest and he answered, ‘Because it’s there.’ Taken out of context, there is no better reason for wanting to translate the Mahabharata. There is a steep mountain to climb. And I would not have dared had I not been able to stand of the shoulders of the three intellectual giants who have preceded me—Kisori Mohan Ganguli, Manmatha Nath Dutt and J.A.B. van Buitenen.
Bibek Debroy
In this first volume, we begin with a list of contents and a summary of everything that is in the Mahabharata. Since the Mahabharata as a story was recited at Janamejaya’s snake-sacrifice, there is a digression on serpents, Takshaka and the stories of Poushya, Puloma and the Bhrigu lineage. Why were the snakes slaughtered at the snake-sacrifice? That takes one to the story of Garuda and how Astika saved the snakes. After this, one learns how the gods and demons are incarnated on earth and there is an account of the genealogy of the Kouravas and the Pandavas, with the stories of Shakuntala and Yayati. The Kourava and Pandava princes grow up and the enmity between the cousins develops. The Kouravas try to burn the Pandavas by setting fire to the house built of lacquer in which the Pandavas reside and the Pandavas slay the demons Hidimba and Baka. The Pandavas encounter a gandharva named Chitraratha and we learn about the enmity between Drona and Drupada. After digressions on Tapati and Vasishtha, Droupadi’s wedding takes place and the Pandavas are given a share of the kingdom.
Section One
Anukramanika Parva
This parva has 210 shlokas and only one chapter. It was clearly a later addition and sets out the background for the recital of the story and summarizes the main incidents, not once, but twice.
1
‘Jaya’1 must be recited after having bowed in obeisance before Narayana and also Nara,2 the supreme human being, and also the goddess Sarasvati.
The great sages, performers of difficult austerities, were present at the twelve-year sacrifice of Kulapati3 Shounaka and were comfortably seated in Naimisharanya.4 Ugrashrava, the son of Lomaharshana and the son of a suta,5 learned in the Puranas,6 and also known as Souti, once approached them, bowing in humility.
When he reached the hermitage of Naimisharanya, the hermits who were the inhabitants, surrounded him, wishing to hear his wonderful stories.
Having been respectfully welcomed by those sages, he folded his palms before all those sages and asked them how their ascetic pursuits were progressing.
When all the sages had taken their seats again, Lomaharshana’s son respectfully took the seat earmarked for him.
On seeing that he was comfortably seated and noticing that he was rested from his fatigue, one of the sages began the conversation and said: ‘O lotus-eyed! O Souti! I am asking you. Tell me the details of where you have come from. Also, where have you spent the time?’
Souti said: ‘The great-souled royal sage and lord of earth, Janamejaya, the son of Parikshit,7 organized a snake-sacrifice. There, in his presence, Vaishampayana recited properly the wonderful and sacred stories composed by Krishna Dvaipayana.8 After listening to those diverse stories of the Mahabharata, I wandered among several places of pilgrimage and sacred waters. I finally came to the sacred place known as Samantapanchaka, venerated by the twice-born. This is the land where, a long time ago, a war was fought between the Kurus and the Pandavas, and also all the kings of the earth. After that, anxious to see you, I have come before you. O revered sages! You shine like the fire of the sun in this sacred place of sacrifice. In my view, you are like Brahma to me, you who are pure through having performed sacred rites and meditation and you who maintain the fire of sacrifice. O you who are twice-born! 9 You are beyond all cares. What shall I say? Shall I state the sacred stories of the Puranas, the sou
rce of dharma and artha? Shall I speak of the history of kings among men and sages and great souls?’
The sages replied: ‘Tell us that ancient story that was told by the supreme sage Dvaipayana, that which was worshipped by the gods and the brahmarshis10 when they heard it—and that which is full of wonderful words and divisions and is the supreme of narratives, with subtle meanings and logic, adorned with the essence of the Vedas.11 That sacred history of the Bharatas is beautiful in language and meaning, and includes all other works. All the shastras12 add to it and that sacred composition of great Vyasa has been added to the four Vedas. We wish to hear that holy collection, that drives away fear of sin, just as it was recited at King Janamejaya’s sacrifice by Vaishampayana.’
Souti said: ‘I bow to the original being Ishana,13 adored by all and to whom all offerings are made. He is truth and without decay, the manifested and un-manifested brahman, eternal. He is both existing and non-existing. He is the existing universe, but is distinct from the existing and the non-existing. I bow before Hari, the lord of all that moves and does not move, the lord of the senses. I bow before the pure and sinless Vishnu, worthy of worship, and he who is good and goodness.
‘I will describe to you the holy thoughts of that great sage who is venerated in the entire world, Vyasa, the performer of wonderful deeds. Some poets have already sung this story before. Other poets are teaching this history now. In the future, still others will certainly do this on earth. Throughout the three worlds, this is a great storehouse of knowledge. Those who are twice-born, possess it in its details and compound forms. It is embellished with elegant words and usage human and divine. It is adorned with myriad metres and loved by the learned.
‘When this universe was without brightness and without light and everything was enveloped in darkness on all sides, the great egg came into being. This was the inexhaustible seed of all creatures and was created at the beginning of all the eras. It is said that in this divine cause existed the eternal brahman,14 true and resplendent—wonderful and beyond imagination and perfectly balanced everywhere. This was the subtle un-manifested cause. It was that which exists and that which does not. From this was born the one and only Lord Prajapati, known as Brahma, the preceptor of the gods. He is also known as Sthanu, Manu, Ka and Parameshthin. From him was born Daksha, the son of Prachetas, and Daksha’s seven sons, and the twenty-one prajapatis. Him whom all the sages know as the being who cannot be fathomed was also born, as were the vishvadevas, the adityas, the vasus and the ashvins. Yakshas, saddhyas,15 pishachas, guhyakas and the pitris were born and after that were born the learned, holy and superior brahmarshis. Then were born many rajarshis,16 endowed with every noble quality. The water, heaven, earth, wind, sky and the directions, the years, seasons, months, fortnight, day and night, followed in succession. The world witnessed everything else that came forth. When the world is immersed in the decay of the era, everything that can be seen, movable and immovable, is again brought together. As the season changes, signs of the season can be seen. Like that, at the beginning of another era, everything is produced again. Without beginning and without end, the wheel of existence rolls on eternally in this world, causing creation and destruction, without beginning and without end.
‘To give a brief example of creation, there are 33,333 gods. The sons of the divine Vivasvat were Brihadbhanu, Chakshus, Atma, Vibhavasu, Savita, Richika, Arka, Bhanu, Ashavaha and Ravi. Of these sons, Mahya was the youngest and his son was Devabhrata, also known as Subhraja. Subhraja had three famous sons, named Dashajyoti, Shatajyoti and Sahasrajyoti, and each of them gave birth to many offspring. The great Dashajyoti had ten thousand sons. The self-possessed Shatajyoti had ten times that number and Sahasrajyoti had ten times the number of offspring Shatajyoti had. From them were descended the line of the Kurus, the Yadus and the Bharatas, the lines of Yayati, Ikshvaku and all the rajarshis. Many other lineages and diverse living beings were created and their various places of residence.
‘The three mysteries of knowledge—the Vedas, yoga17 and vijnana18—were created, as were dharma, artha and kama. The sage saw the various shastras, interspersed with dharma, artha and kama, and the rules of conduct for the world. He saw the ancient histories and all their commentaries and the shruti19 texts too. This book has the signs of all those, everything is here. Having distilled this great knowledge, the sage made a summary of all that, in both abridged and detailed forms, as a storehouse of knowledge for the retention of the wise of this world. Some read Bharata from the story of Manu, others from the story of Astika, still others from the story of Uparichara. Some Brahmanas read the entire text. Learned men display their knowledge of the samhitas20 by commenting on this collection. Some are skilled in explaining it, others in remembering it.
‘After penance and austerities, after having classified the eternal Vedas, Satyavati’s son composed this holy history. This learned brahmarshi, the son of Parashara, followed pure vows. Requested by his mother and at the request of the wise son of Ganga,21 Krishna Dvaipayana lawfully became the father of three sons in Vichitravirya’s field.22 These three Kouravas were like three fires. After thus giving birth to Dhritarashtra, Pandu and Vidura, he returned to his hermitage to pursue the wise path of austerities. Until these sons were born, grew up and passed on to the supreme journey,23 the great sage did not reveal Bharata to the world of men. When he was requested by Janamejaya and thousands of Brahmanas, he taught it to his disciple Vaishampayana, seated in his presence. Seated with his compatriots, it was he (Vaishampayana) who recited Bharata at intervals during the sacrifice, being repeatedly asked to continue when he stopped. Vyasa has described in detail the great lineage of the Kurus, the virtues of Gandhari, the wisdom of Vidura and the constancy of Kunti. The blessed sage has also described the greatness of Vasudeva,24 the truthfulness of the Pandavas and the evil conduct of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Without minor narratives, Vyasa originally composed Bharata in 24,000 twenty verses. The learned know this as the real Bharata. Later, he composed a summary in 150 verses, with an index of the chapters, contents and events. Dvaipayana first taught this index to his son Shuka and then to other disciples who had the same qualities. Narada recited it to the gods, Asita-Devala25 to the ancestors and Shuka to the gandharvas,26 yakshas and rakshasas.
‘Duryodhana is a great tree created out of passion, Karna is its trunk, Shakuni is its branches, Duhshashana is the plentiful fruit and flowers and the mindless Dhritarashtra is its root. Yudhishthira is a great tree created out of righteousness, Arjuna is its trunk, Bhima is its branches, the two sons of Madri27 are its plentiful fruit and flowers, and Krishna, Brahma and the Brahmanas are the root.
‘After having conquered many countries with war and valour, Pandu retired to the forest with the sages, because he was fond of hunting. When out hunting, he brought great misfortune on himself by killing a stag when it was with its mate. Since their birth, Pritha’s28 sons spent their lives there, according to the prescribed norms. In accordance with what is laid down in law, their two mothers29 conceived sons from Dharma, Vayu, Shakra30 and the two gods, the Ashvins. They grew up under the care of their two mothers and in the society of holy sages, in sacred groves and forests. Then, on their own, the sages took them to the presence of Dhritarashtra and his sons. They were dressed as brahmacharis31 and students, with sacred tufts in their hair. The sages said, “These students of ours are the sons of Pandu, your sons, brothers and friends.” Saying this, the sages left. On seeing the sons of Pandu who had thus been left with them, the Kouravas, the learned among the castes and the townspeople exclaimed loudly with joy. However, some said they were not the sons of Pandu. Others said they were. Others wondered how they could be the sons of Pandu when Pandu had died long ago. However, voices were heard from all directions saying that they were welcome nonetheless. Through great fortune, Pandu’s offspring could now be seen. They must be welcomed. Such voices were heard everywhere. When the tumult of the people had died down, an enormous outcry was heard from invisible beings and
all the directions echoed with the sound. As Partha32 and the others entered, there was a shower of fragrant flowers and the sound of conch shells and kettledrums. It was a great wonder. Delighted because of their love for them, the townspeople’s loud cries rose up to heaven and increased the Pandavas’ fame.
‘Without threats from anywhere, the Pandavas lived there, studying the Vedas and various other shastras. They were respected by all the people. The townspeople were delighted with the purity of Yudhishthira, the strength of Bhima, the valour of Arjuna, the humility of the twins and the submissiveness of Kunti to her elders. The entire world was content with their quality of valour.
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