Arjuna

by Anuja Chandramouli

  ‘Forgive me! It is my great anxiety about Jayadratha that makes me forget myself. I do not doubt your intentions. Have I not placed my future in your hands?’ said a contrite Duryodhana.

  ‘And I won’t let you down while there is breath left in this ageing body of mine. Now that Arjuna is focusing solely on getting to Jayadratha, who is still a long way from him, I will be able to capture Yudhishthira for you. You can keep the King of Sindhu safe in the meantime.’

  ‘But how am I supposed to do that when Arjuna made short work of you, my teacher?’ aked Duryodhana, nonplussed by the veteran warrior’s words.

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t leave you without protection,’ said Drona, wincing slightly at the cursory summation of his epic battle with Arjuna. ‘I am going to give you golden armour which I shall lace myself. Thanks to a special technique that I will be using, it will be impenetrable and you can confront Arjuna confidently.’

  Duryodhana felt much better securely outfitted in his special armour and he went in pursuit of Arjuna with a large force. Drona’s words had restored his confidence and he felt upbeat about their chances of preventing the third Pandava brother from fulfilling his oath. He pictured Arjuna being consumed by the deadly flames of Agni, his brothers tearing out their hair in despair, and Krishna completely neutralised by the turn of events. It was a euphoric series of images and Duryodhana was immeasurably cheered.

  While Drona was encouraging Duryodhana, Arjuna had tackled many legions of the Kaurava army and was drawing closer to his quarry. Feverish with impatience, he requested Krishna to make the horses go faster. But the horses, despite galloping with great heart, had just about had enough and were on the last leg of their rapidly dwindling strength. Krishna said they would perish if they were not attended to at once.

  So Arjuna jumped down from the chariot and proceeded to fight on foot. Krishna unharnessed the horses and began pulling out the arrows that had struck them at various points. He called out to Arjuna that they must be given water. No sooner had he said it than a single arrow pierced the ground near his feet and a fount of clean water erupted from deep within the earth and a little pool formed on the spot. Arjuna then put up a barricade of arrows that shielded his charioteer and the horses from the hostile warriors on all sides. In the safe confines of this enclosure, Krishna tended to the animals, attending to their wounds, sponging their heaving flanks, giving them draughts of the life-giving water Arjuna had miraculously dredged up, and murmuring words of encouragement to the noble beasts who were gallantly sharing the great burden their masters had taken upon themselves.

  In the meantime, the soldiers, seeing Arjuna unhorsed, made a concentrated attack, thinking that he was more vulnerable without his mount. But Arjuna on foot was still faster than most men mounted on the swiftest steeds. No man could get close to him as his arrows mercilessly felled all who made the attempt.

  The horses had recovered thanks to the loving ministrations of Krishna and were yoked back to the chariot. Arjuna mounted and they continued on their quest. Duryodhana had caught up with the two friends and he called out to Arjuna with typical bravado, ‘Well! Well! If it isn’t the great Arjuna himself! I have heard so much about your accomplishments on this very battlefield. Truly I am blessed; for today, I will be able to see for myself whether my dear cousin is as accomplished as all that!’

  Without pausing for breath, Duryodhana began a savage attack and Arjuna replied in kind. Krishna had assumed that the fight would be over in seconds and hoped that his friend would go for the kill and destroy the man who was the root cause of all the hardships endured by the Pandavas. But to his surprise, Arjuna’s arrows, famed for their unerring accuracy, merely bounced off Duryodhana’s golden armour.

  Seeing Krishna’s puzzlement, Arjuna explained, ‘Looks like Drona has taken measures not to leave his precious Prince to my mercy. He has put impenetrable armour on him. Little wonder that he did not shrink as he usually does when he sees Bheema or me. But reinforced armour or not, it is laughable that he actually thinks he can defeat me, and I shall trounce him soundly and show him the error of his ways!’

  Arjuna then killed Duryodhana’s horses, his charioteer, and with a final florish, shattered his chariot. And then he shot precisely aimed arrows into the only vulnerable spots on Duryodhana’s person – the tender area under his nails. Duryodhana screamed like a girl as his afflicted nerve-endings sent waves of agonising pain rippling through his body. Ignoring his tormentor’s voice, which politely enquired if he had seen enough or would perhaps prefer further demonstration of his abilities, he ran for his life.

  While Duryodhana was abandoning any pretensions to dignity, Drona was making a determined effort to fulfil his promise. But Arjuna’s bosom friend, Satyaki, who had been entrusted with the task of keeping Yudhishthira safe, fought like a lion and kept Drona from accomplishing his objective. Time and again, Drona was driven away by the ferocity of his attacks.

  Yudhishthira, however, was more concerned about how his beloved brother was faring. There was no way of ascertaining if Arjuna was alive or dead. He decided to send Satyaki to enquire about him and also to render aid if necessary. Satyaki’s protests that his place was with him were quickly overruled.

  Consequently, Arjuna saw Satyaki making his way towards him. He was not happy to see his friend had left his charge. He realized that Yudhishthira must have sent him to his aid and wished Satyaki had stuck to the orders he himself had strictly issued. Now he had two things to worry about – the pursuit of Jayadratha as well as the safety of his brother, who was now vulnerable to capture by the Acharya. Muttering savagely under his breath about his big brother’s foolhardiness, he decided he had no choice but to continue after Jayadratha. Krishna’s voice cut urgently into his thoughts: ‘Arjuna! Satyaki, who is dear to you, needs your assistance! Bhurishrava has him at his mercy and he will die if you do not intervene.’

  Satyaki was clearly tired out from his repeated encounters with Drona. Despite that, he fought valiantly, for he was no mean warrior and had been trained by Arjuna himself. However, on this occasion, Bhurishrava overpowered him and as he lay comatose on the ground, kicked him savagely. Grabbing him by the hair, Bhurishrava moved to sever his head.

  There was a blood feud between Bhurishrava and Satyaki, and this accounted for the depth of hatred between the two, which caused them both to forget the code of chivalry when it came to a confrontation between warriors. Satyaki was the grandson of Sini, a descendant of Yadu, the son of Yayati, and an ancestor of the Pandavas. Sini and Vasudeva, Krishna’s father, were brothers. It was Sini who attended the swayamvara of Devaki to win her hand for his brother. Not one to bother with formalities, he abducted her forcibly and carried her away in his chariot, on Vasudeva’s behalf.

  Somadutta, Bhurishrava’s father, had set his heart on marrying the lovely Princess and he refused to yield her to another man and one who had used force. In the bitter duel that followed, Somadutta was bested and he collapsed to the ground in a heap. Sini kicked his fallen opponent and prepared to behead him. However, seeing the terrified expression on the gentle Devaki’s face, he softened and released him.

  Somadutta then offered prayers to Shiva and obtained a boon from him. He asked for a son who would avenge the insult he had suffered by defeating a descendent of Sini in battle and kicking him. And so it came to be that Satyaki found himself in the ignoble position he was in.

  While he lay helpless in the grip of Bhurishrava, Arjuna acted. He could not allow his dear friend to be killed in this fashion and he simply did not have the time to ponder over the rights and wrongs of the situation. A single arrow from his bow lopped off Bhurishrava’s arm just when it was on the verge of cutting off Satyaki’s head. The warrior watched in disbelief as his arm flopped onto the ground like a fish out of water.

  Bhurishrava’s eyes met those of Arjuna and he addressed bitter words to him: ‘Son of virtuous Kunti. You have committed a foul act. How could you do this to me without warning while I was
fighting someone else? Surely your elders have taught you honourable conduct in battle? What you have done has besmirched your fair name and you will come to regret it!’

  Arjuna felt a twinge of conscience but replied defensively: ‘A man cannot be a mute spectator when great evil is being perpetrated before his eyes. You had vanquished your opponent and rendered him unconscious. But instead of showing mercy to a fallen man, you shamed him by kicking him and attempting to kill him while he lay defenceless as a newborn babe! I could not let that happen to my enemy let alone a dear friend.’

  Bhurishrava listened to Arjuna’s words in agonised silence. Deciding that he had no wish to live bereft of a limb and with his honour called into question, he gathered a few arrows and spread them clumsily on the ground. Then he sat down in a yogic position and began meditating. It was time for him to quit the world by taking the Prayavrata vow, whereby he would abstain from food and drink until his soul departed this mortal world.

  All around, warriors watched in awe as Bhurishrava sat thus. Arjuna felt his eyes well with tears as he contemplated the noble warrior he had helped destroy. Through a haze, he saw Satyaki awaken and grab a sword. Divining his intention, Arjuna shouted to him to stop. A chorus of voices joined in, but Satyaki was past caring. With a swift stroke, he beheaded Bhurishrava, who, engaged in prayopaveshana, was deep in a state of meditation. As his head rolled onto the ground, many voices were raised in horror and condemnation. To them, Satyaki snarled, ‘How dare you talk to me of righteousness, when Abhimanyu was killed by foul means only yesterday? I swore to kill the man who kicked me and abused my person, and I had no choice but to carry it out! He would have done better to renounce the world before and not after shaming me!’

  Arjuna decided he had no time to stand and debate the matter as the sun would soon set. So he turned said to Krishna and said, ‘Let us make haste, for we have to take care of the execrable vermin who was responsible for Abhimanyu’s demise’. And so the two men pressed ahead. Satyaki and Bheema also joined them and helped protect their flanks. Yudhishthira had sent Bheema to help Arjuna and he fought hard to overcome both Drona and Karna, who sought in vain to keep him from his brother.

  Jayadratha was within Arjuna’s line of vision, but Duryodhana, Karna, Shalya, Kripa, Ashwatthama and Vrishasena, interposed themselves between the two antagonists to present insurmountable obstacles. Arjuna was a whirlwind of destruction as he disposed of scores of men, horses and elephants. But time was his most implacable enemy as the sun made his rapid descent over the horizon, effectively siding with the Kauravas, and Karna, his son. Daylight was fading faster than the speed at which the arrows were killing those who stood in Arjuna’s way and Krishna felt the stirrings of anxiety in his heart. Arjuna had come achingly close to Jayadratha and had succeeded in killing his charioteer and knocking over his flagstaff. But the six maharathis had come between them again.

  Krishna spoke quickly: ‘Arjuna! Listen carefully... you will not be able to kill Jayadratha while he is guarded thus by Duryodhana and his watchdogs. We need to win by strategy. I will use my yogic powers to convey the illusion of sunset, and then Jayadratha will drop his guard. You must strike then and strike swiftly. And there is something important you should know. At the time of Jayadratha’s birth, his father – King Vriddhakshatra – heard an oracular prophecy that predicted his only son’s death at the hands of a mighty warrior who would decapitate him. Angered by this violent prophecy, the King pronounced a curse on the person who would cause his son’s head to drop to the ground, saying that the person would himself die, as his own head would burst into a hundred pieces at the same instant. Arjuna, in order to protect yourself, you must cut off his head and then send it flying through the air to land in his father’s lap so that it does not touch the ground. The old King has taken up asceticism after handing over the Kingdom to his son, and is currently meditating in an ashram a few miles from here. Get ready and may victory be yours!’

  True to his words, Krishna used his powers to obscure the brilliance of the sun and darkness descended all of a sudden on the battlefield. A great roar of triumph went up from the Kaurava ranks as they began celebrating with wild abandon, hardly able to believe that the impossible had happened and Arjuna had been thwarted. Under cover of darkness, Arjuna quickly inched closer to his quarry, stealthily killing the men who still stood around him. Suddenly, Jayadratha, his son’s murderer, was within his reach. Pausing only to fix a special arrow, shaped like a thunderbolt, on to his trusted Gandeeva bow, Arjuna released it along with all the rage and pain within him, like deadly venom.

  The terrible shaft cleanly severed Jayadratha’s head from his body. Arjuna followed up with a rapid succession of missiles to carry the head across the heavens with the speed of a shooting star, propelled by the rage of a bereaved father. The arrow with its grisly load began a downward spiral and with deceptive tenderness, deposited it in the lap of the aged monarch, who was deep in meditation. It was a bizarre spectacle – the old man was initially oblivious to his dead son’s head nestling in his lap and continued his prayers. Having concluded his meditation, he opened his eyes and met the dead stare of his only son. His heart almost stopped in horror as he leapt to his feet. When he jumped up thus, Jayadratha’s head with its curly black hair and gold ear-rings, fell from his lap and onto the ground. On the instant, Vriddhakshatra’s own head burst into a hundred pieces, fulfilling his own dire curse.

  Krishna let out a huge roar of triumph and it resonated in every corner of the battlefield. He then removed his illusion of sunset and the sun once again bathed all in a final burst of radiance that lasted for a few glorious moments before it finally retired wearily for the night. Arjuna joined Krishna’s jubilant celebration and the two blew long and lustily on their conch shells. Bheema, Satyaki and the few other Pandava supporters in the vicinity, joined in with their own conches. Yudhishthira heard the sounds of triumph and the heavy weight he had been carrying in his heart finally lifted.

  The Pandavas and their supporters were elated with Arjuna’s success while their opponents were numb with dismay. Passions ran high and the fight continued into the night, as slowly but surely, the age-old rules regarding righteous conduct on the battlefield, agreed upon by all, started being infringed by both sides. The fighting had become dirty and it would get a lot dirtier by the end.

  The initial rush of euphoria that Arjuna experienced on avenging his dead son, soon vanished, yielding place to an aching emptiness that nothing could ever fill. Abhimanyu was gone from his life and he was not coming back. He looked at the enemies who converged on him en masse, dispassionately at first. And then he gritted his teeth, stiffened his shoulders, breathed air into his chest and stood poised to take them on. Abhimanyu had believed in the Pandava cause so fervently that he had sacrificed his life for it. His death could not be in vain. Arjuna gazed at the first stars that appeared in the firmament and promised himself that he would win the battle for himself and his brothers, but mainly for Abhimanyu.

  16

  The Possessed and the Pledged

  While the Pandavas were in exile, Duryodhana and his cohorts helped themselves liberally to their ill-gotten gains, congratulating themselves on the clever way in which they had managed to achieve their ends. For Karna, whose life had always been beset with sorrow and humiliation solely on account of the mysterious circumstances of his birth and the subsequent lack of definition of his position in the rigidly defined social strata of the age, this was a halcyon period of prosperity. Always at Duryodhana’s side, who was dearer to him than life, Karna, for once, was happy.

  However, the Kuru elders were not quite so happy with all that had transpired as they felt that they all stood poised at the brink of great calamity and destruction. Dhritarashtra worried endlessly as his advisors, chief among them being Vidura, constantly told him that they were all going to pay a heavy price for the terrible events they had permitted to happen. Dhritarashtra knew he was chiefly to blame as he had allowed dispropor
tionate affection for his firstborn to cloud his better judgment and block his ears to the wise council of his well wishers. The blind old king veered between guilt and apprehension as he obsessively worried over what would happen to his sons. He shuddered to think of what might happen if Bheema snapped the chains of restraint that Yudhishthira had so judiciously placed on him.

  Bhishma, Drona and Kripa, among others, were vocal in their condemnation of Duryodhana and they never lost an opportunity to remind him all was not lost and he could still redeem himself if he returned to the Pandavas what was rightfully their’s, after the period of exile. The eldest Kuru Prince remained adamant, however, and ignored, sulked or raged – depending on his mood at the given time. On the rare occasions Duryodhana felt despondent, he would turn to Karna to bolster his confidence. His best friend could never bear to see him dispirited and would do all in his power to cheer him up.

  Like a spoilt adolescent, Duryodhana fretted and fumed while concocting his ill-conceived schemes to get rid of the Pandavas in general and Bheema in particular. However, when Karna came into his life and their friendship blossomed over a shared hatred, everything changed. The reassuring presence of Karna gave Duryodhana’s confidence a potently sharp edge. He had always felt that despite Bheema’s superhuman strength, his own superior skill with the mace would allow him to prevail over his hated rival. Arjuna was the one Pandava brother he had secretly feared as he was nothing short of a magician with the bow. But the tournament organised by Drona had been a golden day in Duryodhana’s life, if not for others, as Karna had achieved the seemingly impossible feat of surpassing the excellence of the third Pandava brother. And if that had not been enough, Duryodhana’s offer of friendship had been welcomed and reciprocated. Karna became the lynchpin on which Duryodhana’s evil plans revolved.

  The world has seldom seen a friendship as deep as their’s in terms of love, loyalty and devotion, yet it was also the backbone of great evil. Karna was completely blind to the many faults of Duryodhana and often encouraged him in his deceitful ways. Gradually, despite being a generous, loyal and kind-hearted person of inherently noble disposition, Karna took on some of the attributes of a villain simply by constantly consorting with those with evil proclivities. He would perform deeds so heinous that they caused irreparable harm to his soul. But his innate nobility was never entirely lost and would manifest itself on many occasions.