The Great Golden Sacrifice of the Mahabharata

by Maggi Lidchi Grassi

  Sahadeva of Magadha kneeled to him. We could see in his eyes that he was now Krishna’s devotee. From being our greatest enemy the Magadha kingdom had now become a staunch ally.

  “Sahadeva, son of Jarasandha, we have no quarrel with you. Your father was a strong and courageous man, but he had no notion of true Dharma. Be strong like him, but be just.” Still dazed, we heard him extending an invitation to Indraprastha for the imperatorial sacrifice. It took me some moments to remember what it was all about: the way was now clear for Yudhishthira to reign supreme in Bharatavarsha one day.

  With the death of Jarasandha the whole structure of power shifted. There were very few who did not recognize the killing of Jarasandha as a good thing and welcome the beginning of a new era.

  Yudhishthira himself needed no further persuasion. He sent the four of us to conquer the world for him; Vyasa remained with him in Indraprastha to prepare for the Rajasuya sacrifice. Bheema took his army east, Nakula went west, Sahadeva went south, and I went north.

  My conquests were not difficult until I came to Bhagadatta of Pragjyotisha who had been Jarasandha’s ally. He valiantly led his elephant force on the back of one of the biggest elephants I have ever seen. When I finally defeated him, we became good friends and I invited him to Indraprastha for the Rajasuya. Others, like the Trigarta brothers, were vanquished but swore to destroy me thereafter.

  I went right up to North Meru and I saw it shining silver by morning light and gleaming gold in the evening. I loved its turban of mist and camped by a river in its foothills. For hours I gazed across to the other bank. It sloped upwards into a forest. Once, two horses appeared between the trees and came to the water to drink. Behind them the great matted roots of old trees grew near the water’s edge and the giant pines must have stood tall enough when our grandfathers’ grandfathers were fighting their battles. I lay on my back and watched the clouds move into battle array. There was the crocodile formation on one side and facing it the eagle. Before the battle could begin they blended and lost their shape and then formed again. Here was the crescent and there Indra’s thunderbolt, but even as I imagined myself putting Devadatta to my pursed lips, they merged into each other. The Heavens teased me. Yet was this not all there was to battle? A fleeting illusion that left no trace? Only the trees and the river and the mountain endured with this blue sky above them. I have never seen such beauty and I asked myself why I could not stay here. The clouds took the shape of my brothers.

  When the time came to leave I looked over my shoulder and saw a sudden slope covered by jungle creepers and a spirit in the mountain bade me stay. Prostrating before it, I tore myself away. Bearing all the gems and the gifts I had received as tribute, I returned to Indraprastha. Bheema too come back laden with treasure and the pledge of many kings to attend the Rajasuya. Even the powerful Shishupala, Krishna’s cousin and enemy and Jarasandha’s erstwhile commander-in-chief, would be there.

  Sahadeva’s tour brought about the defeat of several kings in the south: Dantavaktra, Jarasandha’s ally, and Vinda and Anavinda. He had obtained the help of Bheema’s son Ghatotkacha by Bheema’s Rakshasa wife and returned from the south with a huge dark young man, who was completely bald with only a sparse beard. He carried a wooden club and wore a gold crown. He ran to Bheema shouting “Father” in Rakshasa language. Sahadeva asked Ghatotkacha to invite Vibheeshana of Sinhala, the southern island of the Rajasuya. Ghatotkacha carried out his mission so successfully that he returned laden with gems from this rich island. He also invited Arjuna’s son by Chitrangada, Babhruvahana.

  Nakula had invited Balarama. The invitations were well received on all sides. Nobody could deny that there was no other king more suitable than Yudhishthira to perform the imperatorial sacrifice. Not only did we have with us Vyasa, the master of Dharma, but we brothers were beginning to be commonly thought of as invincible and, above all, Mahatma Krishna, as he was now known, was our counsellor.

  That which Yudhishthira had most wanted to avoid, a Rajasuya to which kings were compelled to come, was no longer possible. The kings wanted to come. Nobody wanted to be left out. It was said that righteous rule had resulted in abundant crops and in the prosperity of the kingdom, and indeed our rains were plentiful, the shops were filled with goods and the poor were helped and protected.

  There was one delicate question: that of our cousin Shishupala who had been Jarasandha’s commander-in-chief. After vanquishing him, Bheema had appeased him by continuously reminding him that we were all cousins and that his mother and our mother Kunti were sisters and would be made happy by our friendship, an argument which moved Bheema. He reminded us of Shishupala’s enmity as though we could have forgotten it. Shishupala might try to use the Rajasuya as an occasion to settle old scores, but what was to be done?

  There were also Duryodhana and his brothers to be considered. They had not come to the opening of Maya’s assembly hall when invited. Yudhishthira dreamt night and day of establishing harmony between us and our cousins. I did not think it possible, but the diplomatic Nakula was nonetheless sent to Hastinapura with presents and a courteous and loving invitation. He returned to say that the Kurus, including Greatfather, would come and, to my special delight, Ashwatthama with our acharyas.

  In order to show our cousins and their parties that we considered them trustworthy family members, Yudhishthira decided to invite Greatfather Bheeshma and Dronacharya to be chief supervisors of the Rajasuya. Ashwatthama was asked to look after the Brahmins. Kripacharya, Ashwatthama’s uncle, was asked to weigh and estimate the worth of gold and gems presented. Uncle Vidura was asked to present our gifts. Duryodhana’s brother Duhshasana and Sanjaya, the minister of Hastinapura, were asked to look after the guests. And, while we all approved of this idea of making our cousins participate, I did not like it when I heard Duryodhana had been asked to take charge of the gifts brought by the guests.

  “Why did you not do the thing properly and appoint Shakuni to look after that?” said Bheema angrily. He spoke for all of us.

  “Duryodhana will be insane with jealousy,” I protested.

  “I do not mind that, but I do mind his putting something under his waistband.”

  “If anybody brings horses or elephants, do not allow him to take charge of them,” said Nakula. Sahadeva, who had been appointed protector of the sacrifice, said nothing. He was busy working out propitious days and hours. There was a great coming and going in Indraprastha now. It looked as though the ashrams of Aryavarta had emptied themselves to send their chanters here. Vyasa himself arrived with hundreds of them who knew the hymns and ceremonies for the imperial sacrifice. There were intricate and delicate points of ceremonial etiquette and dogma to discuss. Buildings sprang up everywhere to house the chanters and enormous dining halls were built to provide food for all. The same sumptuous fare was provided for the poor as for the rich.

  Kings arrived from everywhere, kings we knew, kings we had only glimpsed at swayamvaras, and kings we had only heard of—all the rulers from Northern Kashmir to Kanyakumari in the south, from where Hanuman jumped over to the island of Sinhala which the ocean divides from Bharatavarsha. Duryodhana’s maternal grandfather, Saubala, King of Gandhara, came with Shakuni. Karna, supercilious as ever, arrived bringing tribute from Anga. Madri’s brother Shalya, uncle to the twins, also came. Somadatta came with his son Bhoorishravas. It would have been bad if he had not come, but we had to keep them as separate from the Vrishnis as possible, for Satyaki’s father had once defeated Somadatta and committed the unpardonable offence of kicking the vanquished prince. Much as I admired both these heroes, I wondered whether we could entirely count on them as allies after that. Sala came as did Jayadratha, the handsome ruler of Sindhu. I did not take to him. He was gorgeously dressed and bejewelled and strutted like a peacock. Drupada was there with Draupadi’s brothers. It was on this occasion that between Bheema and Dhrishtadyumna there was born a friendship that lasted for life. The great king Bhagadatta and all his Mlechha tribes came from the marshy regio
ns near the sea. From the mountains came King Brihadbala and from the middle regions came the kings of Vanga and Kalinga. But it was when we saw that the dark-skinned Malavars and the Andhrakas and the Dravidas had travelled all the way up from the far south that I exulted and knew that Eldest was Emperor over the whole of Bharatavarsha not only in name; and when I saw that the king of the Sinhalas had crossed the Southern Ocean to attend the sacrifice, as Ghatotkacha had said he would, the last of my doubts vanished. There also came Virata of Matsya with his two sons. We immediately took to Shankha, the eldest. The younger was still a child. Ekalavya arrived with a tribute of fine skins and feathered arrows. When he was near Drona the look in his eyes said plainly that he would have been happy to give him an arm had he asked for it, and his smile to me was oblivious of the wrong I had done him, but luminous as it was, it could not make me forget.

  There was both relief and misgiving when Shishupala of the Chedis arrived. With him came Dantavaktra of Karusha and a large following of great chariot warriors. We outdid ourselves in cordiality and conciliatory gestures but read nothing from Shishupala’s expression until he saw the folly of love with which we received Krishna and his relatively humble Yadava chiefs. His face now hardened into spiteful resentment. One could hardly blame him. Every time he saw Krishna he clearly relived the insult of the abduction of the Princess Rukmini he had compelled him to accept. But no matter how much honour we paid to friend and foe alike, when the Vrishnis arrived there was no disguising whom we loved and honoured most: Krishna, whose childhood as a cowherd those who bore us a grudge liked to remember.

  The mansions we had built with the help of Krishna’s artisans to honour all these guests were splendid. From a distance the tall walls gleamed like the Himalayas. The gardens had been planted with quick flowering plants and each had its swimming and bathing pools half shaded by tall trees. As we accompanied our guests through the gardens, their polite conversation slowed down and then was silenced as they gazed at the gold filigree windows and the jewel-encrusted walls. The hill chiefs and many of the smaller kings openly grunted in surprise and admiration, but the richer and most sophisticated had to pretend to be used to such things, and merely admired politely, at least until they entered through the pearlstudded halls and saw gold thread carpets upon marble floors. Flowers everywhere, and cunningly mixed perfumes to soothe the traveller. Some of those who had come from the farthest reaches of Bharatavarsha said they would have travelled a hundred times further to stand in the soft moon-gleam of the great rooms. Music played and silk-clad servants brought sherbets and sweetmeats.

  In the courtyards and the halls crowds arrived to listen to the chanters reciting the legends of the deeds of our ancestors. I myself went to listen to them whenever I was free, and though the legends were not new, they brought alive for me the deeds of Puru and the other Kuru emperors who had reigned in this very Indraprastha. They spoke of the beauty of the Mother of our race, Urvashi the Apsara. The exploits of my father, King Pandu, brought the legend right up to the birth of Eldest which it took the chanters hundreds and hundreds of slokas to tell. It took another few hundred slokas to endow him with a childhood worthy of the Dharmaraj he had become. Appended to his story were all sorts of exploits in the forest, of which I at least had never heard. He had saved his family from a wild tusker in rut. He had swum the wide river in full spate to warn village subjects to withdraw inland. If memory served me he had once, when I was a little boy, waded across a narrow river with me on his shoulders to pick flowers for our mother and Madri. They chanted that Eldest was unprecedented in the memory of man for justice and generosity and went on ornamenting for hours the number of times he had fed Brahmins and distributed wealth and averted drought, famine, and every other natural disaster by the splendour of his sacrifices and his personal righteousness. I looked to see if his passion for truth would make him screw up his face, but was impressed to see him sit impervious on his throne, detached from the personage of whom they sang. In their enthusiasm the chanters included a list of Eldest’s animal sacrifices, never performed and to which he was entirely opposed. They told of his wiping out colonies of Rakshasas to which he would have been equally opposed, but even to that his face showed no reaction beyond the slightest shifting of his eyes. Bheema and I came in for a good deal of myth-making, and so did the twins, but it was Eldest’s Rajasuya and so some of our feats were lent to him. Much as people loved Dharmaraj for himself, they wanted all five of us to be rolled into one.

  I had fallen into a deep daydream, lulled by cadences of the chanters, when I saw Sahadeva picking his way towards me to tell me that the Kurus, some of whom were to act as hosts, had arrived with a vast retinue. Yudhishthira was anxious for reconciliation and we felt our hearts swell not only with love for Uncle Vidura, Greatfather Bheeshma, Dronacharya, Ashwatthama, and Kripacharya but also with the generosity which comes easily to the winner. We would gladly have showered love on Karna, on the ever-smiling Shakuni, and even on Duryodhana who was making a brave effort not to look sulky.

  We had to see about their housing in the best mansions, remember their particular tastes in food, sleeping arrangements, and diversions. It was like walking on ice in spring; Duryodhana had to be pampered and reminded of his importance and we had to prevent Karna from being reminded of his low birth.

  Krishna told Yudhishthira to proceed with the preparations for the Rajasuya sacrifice. Dhaumya became the busiest person at court, ordering all the auspicious ingredients and articles necessary for the great imperatorial sacrifice. Vyasa it was who appointed the sacrificial priests. He himself was the Brahma of the sacrifice. Susaman was to be the chanter of the Vedic hymns and the son of our priest Dhaumya was made responsible for the liturgy. The first thing to be done was to have a large sacrificial compound cleared and sprinkled, to utter the blessing on the sacrifice and to chant the purpose of the sacrifices. Then the Brahmins summoned builders and gave them the exact specifications for the numerous large buildings needed for the ceremony. Sahadeva dispatched messengers inviting the three castes of the twice-born and also the honest and respectable among the Shudras. Then, when in their presence Yudhishthira was installed, the Brahmins sang their hymns so glad-heartedly that the flames sprang up smokeless to heaven, and my heart with them. Surely, Eldest had been rewarded for his righteousness. He had never strayed from Dharma, not even by the breadth of a sesame seed. Surely, as the Vedic hymn says, his acceptance of all difficulties had been his prayers, intense and unflagging. His radiant face bore witness to the fact that he had made a sacrifice of his personal self.

  Dhaumya and the priests chosen by Vyasa were those-who-knew and were entirely unlikely to make any mistakes in word or action, for a single missing syllable might make a hole in the sacrifice. They could be depended upon for the proper sequence and precise pronunciation. They spoke no falsehood. They had the purity of heart which allows the sacrifice to reach heaven.

  The sages were doing what they liked doing best, relentlessly discussing the nature of truth, and all their sentences started with “This is even so” and ended with “Thus it cannot be otherwise.” They were acquainted with every religious treatise and commentary and gloss.

  The Brahmins were gratified. Yudhishthira had actors and dancers perform before them. There were jugglers and puppet-shows. Yudhishthira was humble, courteous to all, untiring. There was food and there were gifts. “Give, distribute” was the order of the day. Their favourite gift of cattle was lavished on them, as well as gold and everything else that might gladden their hearts. “Accept, eat, enjoy” was all they heard. If only it had been so easy with the kings. We heard the joyous blast of conches signalling every time that one hundred thousand Brahmins had been fed. But so did Duryodhana and we saw it pierced his heart.

  At the time at which our Sahadeva and the court astrologer had declared the planets favourable, the sacrifices for rituals making Yudhishthira emperor were begun. They lasted some time and both Bheema and Ghatotkacha fell asleep. When thes
e rites were over Yudhishthira went into the sacrificial hall where there was a host of Brahmins who had already started the second ceremony. Yudhishthira and Draupadi were helped up on to a gold pedestal and Vyasa too climbed up to pour over their heads from a golden pitcher water collected from all the holy rivers. At their feet were offered the produce of the land: grains and fruits and flower garland. Bheema stood to Yudhishthira’s right, and I to the left of Draupadi. Satyaki held the royal silk umbrella and Nakula the white whisk. Vyasa proclaimed Yudhishthira and Draupadi Emperor and Empress of Bharatavarsha. Quantities of ghee were poured into the fire and the flames sprang up out of the pit. I could see tears course down Draupadi’s cheeks.

  We all thought our troubles were over.

  On the second day we all went with the chanters and to the hall of sacrifice to worship the sacrificial fire with oblations and chants.

  A delicate point arose: a king or a sage recognized by all as being worthy of worship as god of the sacrifice had to be chosen. We had all, at one stage or another, realized that it would be a knotty problem, but trusted that Greatfather Bheeshma, so set on peace, would make a tactful decision when Eldest called on him. I wished that I had my bow and arrow to hand and wondered whether Bheema had heard that Shishupala and his friends thought that we would do well to confer the distinction on him, Shishupala, as a gesture of reconciliation!

  Our Purohit announced the moment of choice. Yudhishthira looked around; his gaze rested on Greatfather. Greatfather Bheeshma prompted him gently.

  “My dearest grandson! Our ritual prescribes that the sacrifice must start with the new emperor offering worship to the sage or king whose dharmic merits are the greatest.” Everybody sat attentive. Would Yudhishthira’s conciliating heart select Shishupala? The silence dragged on and danger stirred in it. Looks passed between friends, between allies and accomplices. Bheema and I looked at each other expressionlessly. I searched Krishna’s eyes and found him unmoved.