When Yudhishthira was crowned King after the epic battle, he decided to perform the Ashwamedha (horse sacrifice). A special horse was released and given its head to roam as it pleased. An army led by Arjuna followed the horse, and in every Kingdom where the horse chose to stop, the ruler was obliged to acknowledge the supremacy of Yudhishthira or fight Arjuna and his forces. It was the general consensus that taking on Arjuna was tantamount to killing oneself, so the Kings dared do nothing but accept Yudhishthira as their overlord. These Kings, though demonstrating varying degrees of grace in surrender, all provided Arjuna with valuable treasures as a mark of their respect. The horse cantered unchecked, adding new territories to the Pandava empire and filling their coffers to overflowing.
In this manner the horse proceeded to Manipur. Babhruvahana was overjoyed to see his father and rushed out with arms outstretched. But Arjuna was far from pleased with this affectionate display given the circumstances and spoke with acerbity, ‘No son of mine would walk away from a fight by embracing the challenger and not the challenge. If my blood truly runs in your veins, greet me like a warrior.’
Stung by these harsh words, Babhruvahana sprang into action. He ordered his soldiers to capture the horse and called his men to arms. And then the father and son faced off, ready to duel.
Arjuna was pleased with the leonine features and valour of his son. But when the two met in a terrible clash of arms, the very earth trembled. They fought long and hard and even the Gods watched the contest to see who would prevail. Chitrangada and Uloopi also watched the epic struggle, the former with tears in her eyes and a nameless dread in her heart; the latter with a strange stillness that was alien to her. It seemed that the two warriors would fight to eternity. But it was all over in a heartbeat. An arrow from Babruvahana’s bow pierced his father’s heart and Arjuna fell to the ground, dead.
The tragedy of it all silenced the viewers for long moments. And then the wailing and ululating began. Appalled by what he had done, Babhruvahana fainted. Chitrangada ran to her fallen husband and beat her chest and tore her hair in grief. Deciding that life was meaningless now she decided to starve herself to death right there on that spot. When Babhruvahana came to, he also decided to give up his life.
On seeing Uloopi standing dry-eyed and still as if in a trance, Babhruvahana spoke to her saying, ‘Is this why you tried so hard to make me a great warrior? So that I would have the blood of my father on my hands? You have got your vengeance on the man who left you. I hope you are happy with what I have done. How could I have thought of you as my mother? You are a demon!’
Uloopi listened without expression or emotion and then said softly, ‘I have a story to tell you. Do me the courtesy of listening to what I have to say and then you may judge my actions as you please.’ She then began her remarkable tale which had a direct bearing on the man they all loved and who lay dead before them.
During the battle of Kurukshetra, Bhishma the Grandsire of both the Pandavas and Kauravas, was making life extremely hard for the five brothers. The old warrior was an unstoppable force on the battlefield and he was making mincemeat of the Pandava armies. Tens of thousands of soldiers met their doom, unable to withstand Bhishma’s unrelenting arrows. Finally, in desperation and before their army could be destroyed to the last man, the brothers decided to engage in a bit of skulduggery. They had heard from Bhishma’s own lips that he would never fight a woman, an unarmed man, or a man belonging to a lowly caste. Therein lay the key to neutralising him on the battlefield. On numerous occasions he had refused to fight Shikandin, repeatedly ignoring that warrior’s challenges, saying he had once been a woman.
The lad in question had indeed been a woman named Amba. Along with her sisters, Ambika and Ambalika, she had been carried away forcibly by Bhishma during their swayamvara, to be given in marriage to Vichitravirya, grandfather of both the Pandavas and Kauravas. Amba was unhappy as she had already chosen another man, Shalva, as her groom. When Bhishma was informed of her feelings, he allowed her to go back to her chosen one with due respect.
Shalva, however, had been thrashed by the famed warrior in battle when he had chased after the Princesses when Bhisma had carried them away, and he rejected Amba. He told her in no uncertain terms, ‘Go back to the man who carried you away by force and inflicted a crushing defeat upon me. He spared my life only at your request. Between the two of you, I was made both a beggar who was given his life as alms and a clown who is the butt of ridicule among the Kshatriyas. I will be the laughing stock of the world if I accept you under these less than honourable circumstances. Be gone, for the sight of your face only reminds me of the disgrace I have suffered on your account.’
Hurt and bewildered, Amba returned to Hastinapura. But Vichitravirya refused to accept her too, since she had given her heart to another man. Alone and unwanted, Amba’s thwarted love turned to hatred and she turned the full force of her hatred upon Bhishma. Amba prayed to Lord Subramanya, seeking a divine solution to the seemingly insurmountable task of destroying Bhishma. She was given a garland of celestial flowers by the God, who told her, ‘The man who wears this garland will be the destroyer of Bhishma.’ Amba tried to find someone who would consent to wear the garland and kill Bhishma. She was refused everywhere she went as nobody wanted to incur the wrath of Bhishma and hasten their own departure to the abode of Yama. Driven by her all-consuming hatred, the Princess went to Drupada’s Kingdom, where he too, refused her request unceremoniously. Fed up with them all, Amba hung the now offending garland at the entrance of Panchala and departed.
Some wandering ascetics advised her to seek the help of Parashurama, the incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Parashurama felt sorry for Amba and tried to persuade his former student, Bhisma, to marry her. But Bhishma could not oblige his mentor because of the vow he had taken for the sake of his father, to remain celibate. The fiery Brahmin then challenged Bhisma to a duel but neither could prevail over the other. Disgusted, Amba retired to the forest where she performed severe penance for many years to please Lord Shiva. Shiva appeared before her and granted her a boon: ‘In your next life, you will bring about the death of Bhishma.’ Anxious to begin her next life, Amba immolated herself in the sacrificial flames.
In her next life, Amba was born as Drupada’s daughter. One day she saw the garland of celestial flowers given by Lord Subramanya. The wondrous flowers had remained fresh and beautiful over the years. She picked it up and placed it around her own neck. Drupada was angered with the recklessness of his daughter and had her removed to a distant place to avoid any trouble with the Kuru elder. During her exile, the girl performed further penance and transformed herself into the male warrior who came to be known as Shikandin.
It was for this reason that Bhishma refused to fight Shikandin. Although it grieved him deeply to do so, Arjuna turned this to his advantage during the battle. Using Shikandin as a shield, he showered Bhishma with his arrows. Bhishma had been given a boon by his father that he would die only when he wished to. Giving in to fate and wearied by his long life on earth, Bhishma chose to fall, saying in deep contentment, ‘It is Arjuna’s arrows which succeed in piercing this tough skin of mine, not Shikandin’s. What an honour it is to die at the hands of the greatest warrior this world has known!’ And thus Bhisma was brought down, resting on a bed of Arjuna’s arrows.
Now Bhishma might have been resigned to his fate and even rejoiced at it but his brothers, the seven Vasus, were watching from their heavenly abode and they were incensed. They could not accept that their brother, whom even Parashurama could not overcome in single combat, now lay supine, felled by Arjuna’s arrows, and they said to each other, ‘That arrogant Pandava’s actions are worthy of a weasel or a cunning fox. It is disgusting that he had to resort to such wicked wiles to destroy a noble soul who once sat him on his knee. When his term on earth ends, Arjuna will go directly to hell. The blazing flames of hell will be the most suitable place for him and others of his ilk.’
Bhishma was the youngest Vasu brother, known a
s Prabhasa. They were demi-gods and lived happily among the celestials. One day, Prabhasa’s wife caught sight of Sage Vashishtha’s cow, Nandini – the cow of plenty. She requested her husband to steal it so that she could present it to a friend who was a mortal. Prabhasa decided to indulge his wife. Accompanied by his brothers, he stole the cow. Vashishtha discovered what had happened with his yogic vision and was deeply angered. He pronounced a curse saying, ‘Let the Vasus be born among men and know the suffering that is prevalent on earth’.
The Vasus were chagrined when they heard about the curse. They returned the cow to the ascetic and begged him to undo the curse. The sage had mellowed by then and said, ‘I cannot undo the curse but I will soften it. You will all be born on earth but seven of you will be released immediately. Prabhasa alone will live for a long time. However, his life will be a glorious one and he will be remembered for eternity in the world of men’.
In due course, the Vasus were born to King Shantanu, the father of Vichitravirya and the Goddess Ganga. As promised, Ganga freed seven of her children by casting them into the waters of the river, thereby releasing them from a life on earth with its attendant hardships and sorrows. The eighth child was Bhishma.
The Vasus had missed their brother terribly and they were heartbroken to see the hardships he weathered during his time on earth. Arjuna’s destruction of him was the last straw and they vented their rage and sorrow on him. Uloopi had heard about all this from her father, Kauravya, who was related to the Vasus.
The Serpent Princess was aggrieved and decided she should do something to rescue her love from his grim destiny. She spoke eloquently to her father saying, ‘Terrible crimes have been committed in the battle of Kurukshetra and the perpetrators have got off lightly. My husband is a virtuous man who has always lived as prescribed by dharma. If he is thus condemned, I swear I’ll follow him to the farthest reaches of hell. Talk to the Vasus and intercede with them on Arjuna’s behalf.’
King Kauravya appealed to the Vasus, who were somewhat mollified as they knew that Bhishma himself loved Arjuna and thought highly of him. They said, ‘Arjuna will escape the horrors of hell if he is killed in battle by his own flesh and blood’. Uloopi heard these words and made her plans.
Uloopi’s fascinating tale drew to a close. Babhruvahana was shamefaced and regretted the harsh words he had hurled at this noble woman who was the epitome of selfless love. However, Chitrangada and Babhruvahana could still not reconcile themselves to Arjuna’s passing and were steadfast in their resolve to kill themselves. Uloopi seemed to have slipped into a trance again. Her eyes were shut and she was completely oblivious to her surroundings.
Suddenly, as the bereaved wife and son watched in amazement, a brilliant green gemstone flew through the air and settled itself on Uloopi’s outstretched palm. The gemstone was the most precious possession of the Snake people as it had the power to revive the dead. Uloopi walked towards the fallen hero and placed the gem on his chest. Miraculously, the wound closed itself and Arjuna awakened as if from a deep slumber. Jubilant cries rang out and everyone rejoiced. Chitrangada and Babhruvahana threw themselves at Uloopi’s feet and worshipped her like they would a Goddess.
Arjuna listened in silent wonder as he was told all that had transpired. He turned his gaze upon the Serpent Princess and said, ‘It was a blessed day when you dragged me to the abode of the Nagas. I owe my existence both in this world as well as the next to you.’
As she looked into the brilliant depths of those captivating eyes, Uloopi knew that she had won her beloved Arjuna’s heart at last.
9
The Abduction That Saved The Lineage
After his delightful sojourn in Manipur, which would prove so important for him in future, Arjuna journeyed on southwards till he reached the holy city of Rameshwaram. While there, he made a point of visiting the spot where Rama, believed to be Vishnu incarnate, and his army of monkeys, had built a bridge to allow them access to Lanka and the Demon-King Ravana, who had kidnapped Rama’s beloved wife, Sita, and held her hostage.
Arjuna looked at the historic spot and felt underwhelmed. He had always taken umbrage when people spoke of Rama being the best wielder of the bow the world had ever seen, feeling privately that such an accolade belonged solely to himself. He voiced his thoughts aloud saying, ‘Why did Lord Rama make the monkeys haul stone from all over the place to build a bridge? Surely he could have used arrows for the purpose... after all, he was an expert archer. I myself would have done so and saved everyone a lot of trouble.’
An old monkey who was actually Hanuman, Rama’s most loyal devotee, responded from the shadow of a tree under which he was resting, ‘It seems to me that you have a mighty fine opinion of yourself. Do you actually think that you could have done better than Lord Rama? He was twice the archer you are but he had none of your arrogance. And he was also blessed with common sense, unlike you. He knew that a bridge of arrows could never withstand the weight of the mighty army of monkeys led by the noble King Sugreeva.’
Arjuna was angered that a mere monkey would dare to speak to him in this manner. He answered in anger, ‘What would a foolish ape like you know about warfare? I stand by what I have said. If I were to build a bridge of arrows, an entire army, no matter whether it consisted of monkeys or donkeys, could have easily crossed over to Lanka.’
Hanuman smiled coldly to himself and decided that the mortal who thought himself superior to Rama was in desperate need of a lesson. ‘Enough of useless talk! Why don’t you build a bridge of arrows and then we will see if it can bear my puny self, let alone the weight of an entire army. If you succeed, I’ll be your slave but since that will never come to be, what will I win if you lose our little wager?’
‘I shall end my life on this very spot if the bridge collapses...’ Arjuna said, confident that his bridge made entirely of arrows from his trusty bow would bear the weight of the entire population of the world.
Taking a deep breath, Arjuna drew back the bowstring and sent forth a cluster of arrows that rained down upon the blue waters in a steady stream before aligning themselves perfectly to form a causeway. Within moments a gargantuan construction lay glistening under the sun as the arrows reflected back the beams of light the Sun God tossed their way.
Hanuman looked at the creation with scant respect before playing out an elaborate charade of an aged monkey shuffling across to the causeway, while Arjuna looked on with barely concealed disdain. But no sooner had the monkey laid a toe on the bridge than the entire thing collapsed and disappeared into the sea.
Arjuna was aghast and unable to believe his own eyes. His magnificent construction had been shattered by a mere monkey’s toe? Unbearable humiliation pounded his chest in a tidal wave of crushing despair. He could not bear to face anyone in the world knowing that he may not be as good an archer as he had thought.
Without a word, he built a pyre and prepared to consign his body to the flames. Hanuman looked on without pity, thinking that a person possessed of such arrogance deserved nothing better. But as he watched, a noble youth arrived on the scene. The young man stopped Arjuna as he was about to step into the pyre and insisted that he be told Arjuna’s reason for his desire to end his own life. Arjuna explained everything to the stranger and thanked him for trying to save his life but added that there was nothing anybody could do as he had lost the wager and his life was forfeit.
The newcomer said, ‘A wager made without witnesses is not considered valid and therefore, I cannot let you die. Why don’t you build another bridge and the monkey can test its strength, while I act as judge?’
Since Arjuna and Hanuman were both amenable to his suggestion, the challenge was taken up again. This time, Arjuna prayed to Krishna and with the Lord’s name on his lips, he began his task. When, as before, the arrow-bridge was completed, Hanuman stepped on it, but this time it held firm. The monkey walked further and even jumped on the bridge but it bore his might stolidly. In desperation, Hanuman assumed the gigantic form he had taken when he
had made the leap across the ocean to reach Lanka. Before Arjuna’s amazed eyes, he tried yet again to destroy the bridge. And for the final time, he failed.
At that moment, Arjuna and Hanuman realized that they were in the presence of divinity and the events unfolding before them were through the grace of Lord Vishnu. They both fell at the feet of the youth and before their eyes, he became Lord Vishnu in all his magnificence. He blessed them both for realizing the truth and addressed them saying, ‘It seems to me that two of my most loyal devotees suffer from the same affliction of arrogance. Arjuna has learnt his lesson thanks to Hanuman, who led him to the brink of death. But now it is Hanuman’s turn to make good on the conditions of the bet and repent for his excess pride in his great physical strength. Since you swore to be Arjuna’s slave, Hanuman, you will perch on his standard when he rides into battle and use your voice to keep the morale of the troops high and terrify Arjuna’s enemies with your war cry. In this way you will fulfil the conditions of the bet. The story of your challenge will serve as a lesson to mankind regarding the folly of pride.’
Arjuna and Hanuman smiled sheepishly at each other after Vishnu had vanished. Arjuna was the first to speak. ‘I apologise for doubting Rama’s prowess. It is hard for me to accept that anyone can be a better archer than me. In fact, Bheema and I often argue about which of us is better equipped to protect the family. And since you are both the sons of Vayu, it is not surprising that I had a similar falling out with you. But like Bheema, you are also my brother and it is wonderful that we met, despite the circumstances.’
Hanuman was charmed and decided that Arjuna was quite likeable despite his vanity and was undeserving of the initial aversion he had felt for him. ‘You don’t have to apologise to me. Vishnu himself said that we are both guilty of the same sin. And you say that Bheema is also inordinately proud of his strength, so perhaps I’ll meet him one day too and give him the same scare I gave you...’ And with eyes twinkling with mischief, the two conspirators bade each other farewell before going in different directions.
Arjuna Page 8