Mahabharata: Vol. 5

by Debroy, Bibek

  It is impossible to pinpoint when and how my interest in the Mahabharata started. As a mere toddler, my maternal grandmother used to tell me stories from Chandi, part of the Markandeya Purana. I still vividly recollect pictures from her copy of Chandi: Kali licking the demon Raktavija’s blood. Much later, in my early teens, at school in Ramakrishna Mission, Narendrapur, I first read the Bhagavad Gita, without understanding much of what I read. The alliteration and poetry in the first chapter was attractive enough for me to learn it by heart. Perhaps the seeds were sown there. In my late teens, I stumbled upon Bankimchandra Chattopadhyay’s Krishna Charitra, written in 1886. Bankimchandra was not only a famous novelist, he was a brilliant essayist. For a long time, Krishna Charitra was not available other than in Bengali. It has now been translated into English, but deserves better dissemination. A little later, when in college, I encountered Buddhadeb Bose’s Mahabharater Katha. That was another brilliant collection of essays, first serialized in a magazine and then published as a book in 1974. This too was originally in Bengali, but is now available in English. Unlike my sons, my first exposure to the Mahabharata story came not through television serials but comic books. Upendrakishore Raychowdhury’s Mahabharata (and Ramayana) for children was staple diet, later supplanted by Rajshekhar Basu’s abridged versions of both epics, written for adults. Both were in Bengali. In English, there was Chakravarti Rajagopalachari’s abridged translation, still a perennial favourite. Later, Chakravarthi Narasimhan’s selective unabridged translation gave a flavour of what the Mahabharata actually contained. In Bengal, the Kashiram Das version of the Mahabharata, written in the seventeenth century, was quite popular. I never found this appealing. But in the late 1970s, I stumbled upon a treasure. Kolkata’s famous College Street was a storehouse of old and secondhand books in those days. You never knew what you would discover when browsing. In the nineteenth century, an unabridged translation of the Mahabharata had been done in Bengali under the editorship of Kaliprasanna Singha (1840–70). I picked this up for the princely sum of Rs 5. The year may have been 1979, but Rs 5 was still amazing. This was my first complete reading of the unabridged version of the Mahabharata. This particular copy probably had antiquarian value. The pages would crumble in my hands and I soon replaced my treasured possession with a republished reprint. Not longer after, I acquired the Aryashastra version of the Mahabharata, with both the Sanskrit and the Bengali together. In the early 1980s, I was also exposed to three Marathi writers writing on the Mahabharata. There was Iravati Karve’s Yuganta. This was available in both English and in Marathi. I read the English one first, followed by the Marathi. The English version isn’t an exact translation of the Marathi and the Marathi version is far superior. Then there was Durga Bhagwat’s Vyas Parva. This was in Marathi and I am not aware of an English translation. Finally, there was Shivaji Sawant’s Mritunjaya, a kind of autobiography for Karna. This was available both in English and in Marathi.

  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 on 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

  Section Sixty

  Amba-Upakhyana Parva

  This parva has 755 shlokas and twenty-eight chapters.

  Chapter 833(170): 22 shlokas

  Chapter 834(171): 9 shlokas

  Chapter 835(172): 23 shlokas

  Chapter 836(173): 18 shlokas

  Chapter 837(174): 26 shlokas

  Chapter 838(
175): 30 shlokas

  Chapter 839(176): 42 shlokas

  Chapter 840(177): 24 shlokas

  Chapter 841(178): 38 shlokas

  Chapter 842(179): 31 shlokas

  Chapter 843(180): 39 shlokas

  Chapter 844(181): 36 shlokas

  Chapter 845(182): 16 shlokas

  Chapter 846(183): 27 shlokas

  Chapter 847(184): 18 shlokas

  Chapter 848(185): 23 shlokas

  Chapter 849(186): 36 shlokas

  Chapter 850(187): 40 shlokas

  Chapter 851(188): 18 shlokas

  Chapter 852(189): 18 shlokas

  Chapter 853(190): 23 shlokas

  Chapter 854(191): 20 shlokas

  Chapter 855(192): 30 shlokas

  Chapter 856(193): 66 shlokas

  Chapter 857(194): 22 shlokas

  Chapter 858(195): 20 shlokas

  Chapter 859(196): 19 shlokas

  Chapter 860(197): 21 shlokas

  Upakhyana is a short tale or episode and this section is so named because it has the short account of Amba, who was reborn as Shikhandi. This section ends Udyoga Parva and everything is set for the war.

  Chapter 833(170)

  ‘Duryodhana asked, “O foremost among the Bharata lineage! When you see Shikhandi in the field of battle, with arrows raised and ready to slay you, what is the reason for you not to kill him? O mighty-armed one! You said earlier that you would kill the Panchalas and the Somakas. O Gangeya! O grandfather! Tell me the reason for this.”1

  ‘Bhishma replied, “O Duryodhana! Together with the lords of the earth, listen to the reason why I will not kill Shikhandi when I see him in the field of battle. My father, King Shantanu, was a bull among the Bharata lineage and had dharma in his soul. O bull among men! In course of time, he met his destiny. O foremost among the Bharata lineage! I then fulfilled my promise. I consecrated my brother Chitrangada as the great king. When he died, abiding by the instructions of Satyavati and in accordance with the decreed rites, I instated Vichitravirya as the king. O Indra among kings! Though he was young, he was consecrated by me in accordance with dharma. Vichitravirya had dharma in his soul and glanced towards me for everything. O son!2 I desired to obtain brides for him and reflected on those who would be equal in beauty and lineage. O mighty-armed one! At that time, I heard that the three daughters of the king of Kashi would be given away in a svayamvara.3 All of them were unrivalled in beauty and their names were Amba, Ambika and Ambalika. O bull among the Bharata lineage! All the kings of the earth had been summoned there. O Indra among kings! Amba was the eldest and Ambika was the one in the middle, while Ambalika was the youngest princess. On a single chariot, I went to the capital of the lord of Kashi. O mighty-armed one! O lord of the earth! I saw the three ornamented maidens there and the kings, the lords of the earth, who had assembled there. Established in battle, I challenged all those kings. O bull among the Bharata lineage! I raised those maidens onto my chariot. Knowing that they were being offered as viryashulka,4 I raised them onto my chariot and told all the lords of the earth who had assembled there, ‘Bhishma, Shantanu’s son, is taking these maidens away by force.’ I repeated the challenge. ‘O kings! Use the limits of your strength to set them free. O lords of men! I am forcibly abducting them, in front of your eyes.’ At this, all those lords of the earth arose, with weapons upraised. Enraged, they instructed their charioteers to yoke the chariots. Some were on chariots that were like the clouds. Others were on elephants and were warriors who fought on elephants. Other lords of the earth were on the backs of horses. They arose, with weapons upraised. O lord of the earth! Those lords of the earth surrounded me from all directions. With a great mass of chariots, they attacked me from all sides. I repulsed them with a great shower of arrows. I vanquished all those kings, like the king of the gods against the danavas. I brought down their colourful and gold-embellished standards. With a single arrow each, I brought them down on the ground. O bull among men! I laughed and used my flaming arrows to bring down their horses, elephants and chariots in that battle. On seeing the dexterity of my palms, they were shattered and retreated. After vanquishing those lords of the earth, I returned to Hastinapura. O descendant of the Bharata lineage! O mighty-armed one! I recounted my deed to Satyavati and handed over the maidens for my brother.”’

  Chapter 834(171)

  ‘Bhisma said, “O best of the Bharata lineage! I approached my mother, the mother of brave ones and saluting her, told the daughter of the Dasha lineage,5 ‘I have vanquished the kings and have obtained these daughters of the lord of Kashi for Vichitravirya. I have abducted them in accordance with the norms of viryashulka.’ O king! She inhaled the fragrance of my head. With her eyes filled with tears, Satyavati told me, ‘O son! It is through good fortune that you have obtained victory.’ With Satyavati’s permission, a date was fixed for the marriage. The eldest daughter of the lord of Kashi spoke these bashful words. ‘O Bhishma! You are knowledgeable about dharma and you are skilled in all the sacred texts. You should listen to my words and then act towards me in accordance with dharma. In my mind, I had earlier chosen the lord of Shalva as my groom. Without this being known to my father, he had also chosen me in secret. I desire someone else. O king! O Bhishma! Especially because you are a Kourava, how can you, who have studied the sacred texts, make someone like that live in this household? O bull among the Bharata lineage! Now that you know this, make up your mind about what should be done. O mighty-armed one! You should do that which is appropriate. O lord of the earth! It is evident that King Shalva is waiting for me. O mighty-armed one! O supreme among those who uphold dharma! You should take pity on me. O brave one! We have heard that you are famous in this world for being truthful to your vows.’”’

  Chapter 835(172)

  ‘Bhishma said, “O lord of men! I then informed Kali6 Satyavati, the advisers, the brahmanas and the priests and allowed the eldest maiden, Amba, to leave. On obtaining the permission, the maiden went to the capital of the lord of Shalva. She was protected by aged brahmanas and accompanied by her nurse. Travelling the entire distance, she went to that lord of men and told King Shalva these words. ‘O mighty-armed one! O immensely radiant one! I have arrived here, before you.’ O lord of the earth! But the lord of Shalva smiled and told her, ‘O one with the beautiful complexion! You have belonged to another one before this and I do not wish you as my wife. O fortunate one! Therefore, return again to the descendant of the Bharata lineage! After you have been forcibly abducted by Bhishma, I do not desire you. You were won by Bhishma and seemed to be delighted then. He defeated all the lords of the earth in a great battle. O one with the beautiful complexion! You have gone to another one before. I am a king who is instructed by dharma and am skilled in knowledge. How can I accept as my wife a lady who has gone to someone else before? O fortunate one! Go wherever you wish. Do not waste your time here.’ O king! Amba was struck by the arrows of the god of love and told him, ‘O lord of the earth! Do not speak in this fashion. I wasn’t happy when I was abducted by Bhishma, the destroyer of enemies. After driving away the lords of the earth, he used force on me and I was weeping. O lord of Shalva! I love you. Love me back in return. I am an innocent maiden. Dharma does not approve of the abandoning of those who love you. I have come here after obtaining the permission of Gangeya, who never retreats from the field of battle. I have obtained his permission and have come here before you. O lord of the earth! The mighty-armed Bhishma does not want me. I have heard that all Bhishma’s exertions were for the sake of his brother. O king! Gangeya has given my sisters, Ambika and Ambalika, whom he had also abducted, to his younger brother Vichitravirya. O lord of Shalva! I have never desired any man other than you. O tiger among men! I swear on my head that I have not thought of anyone but you. O Indra among kings! I have come before you and I have not gone to any other man earlier. O Shalva! I am telling you the truth. I swear on my own self that this is the truth. O one with the large eyes! Love me. A maiden has come to you of her own accord. I have not been to any ot
her man earlier. O Indra among kings! I desire your favours.’ O foremost among the Bharata lineage! But though she spoke in this way, Shalva abandoned the daughter of the king of Kashi, the way a snake discards its old skin. She sought his favours with these and many other words. O bull among the Bharata lineage! But the king who was the lord of Shalva did not show her his favours. Then the eldest daughter of the king of Kashi was overcome by anger. With tears in her eyes and with her voice choking with tears, she said, ‘O lord of the earth! Having been discarded by you, I will go wherever I wish. I will go to the virtuous. It has been rightly said that where there is virtue, there is truth.’ O Kouravya! The maiden spoke in this way and lamented piteously. But the lord of Shalva abandoned her and Shalva repeatedly said, ‘O one with the beautiful hips. Go. Go from here. I am frightened of Bhishma. You are Bhishma’s property.’ She was thus addressed by Shalva, who was not far-sighted. She departed wretchedly from the city, weeping like a female osprey.”’

  Chapter 836(173)

  ‘Bhishma said, “O descendant of the Bharata lineage! As she departed from the city, she thought to herself. ‘There is no young woman on earth who faces such a difficult situation as me. I have been separated from my relatives. I have been treated badly by Shalva. I am incapable of returning to the city of Varanasahrya.7 Bhishma granted me permission because I wished to go to Shalva. Will I blame myself or the unassailable Bhishma? Or should it be my foolish father who arranged for the svayamvara? Is it my own fault that I did not jump down from Bhishma’s chariot? When that terrible war raged on earlier, should I have descended and run away to Shalva? The consequences are that I have to endure the fruits of this conduct, like a foolish person. Shame on Bhishma. Shame on my evil father, whose intelligence is foolish. He offered me as viryashulka, as if I am a woman who can be offered at a price. Shame on me. Shame on King Shalva. Shame on the creator. It is because of everyone’s bad sentiments that I now confront this calamity. In every way, a man must endure what destiny has determined. But Shantanu’s son, Bhishma, is the chief reason for my hardship. I see that I now have to exact vengeance on Bhishma, through austerities and fighting. It is my view that he is the reason behind my misery. But which lord of the earth is capable of withstanding Bhishma in battle?’ Having reflected in this way, she left the city.