Yuyutsu - Rise of the last Kaurava

by Aniket Sharma

  Listening to the courage of my elder my heart softened. I know it was not because of Jayadratha he jumped into the skir- mish with Arjuna but because he doesn’t want to see the tears

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  in the eyes of Dussala. What an irony! On one hand, he demands his troop to kill the husbands of many sisters, and on the other, he wants to save one for Dussala. The war is selfish! Bowing down to Krishna, I ask his leave and walk towards my tent.

  Everybody is happy seeing Arjuna back. Lion has returned to his den, but this is not the end of the war. Another day has ended, and the tired soldiers want to rest. The animals too need some food and water. The ostlers hurriedly arrange water for the steeds, and the mahouts thump their elephants to release their tiredness. Warriors want to stretch their muscles and get their wounds treated. The naked eyes can see the pieces of flesh and shattered bones and skulls for miles and miles. The cries of pain and the roar of victory are illuminating the dusk. The panegyrists sing the glory of Arjuna, and physicians get ready to treat the wounded soldiers. The army relaxes, and amidst all these emotions of victory and loss, I hear the conch blare from the western part of the field. Implausible!

  I rise from my seat. The other Pandu brothers also look towards the direction of the sound. Am I correct? Are my thoughts in sync with my mind? Am I reading the signal cor- rectly? Is this not the end of the day, even after the sunset? O Mahadeva! What is Duryodhana wishing? Is he going against the rules of war? Summon to fight after sunset. The troops of Drona are signalling us for combat. Duryodhana must have managed to provoke the preceptor, and Drona without any option to contradict must have agreed to avenge the death of Jayadratha. What are we going to witness more? Soon every- thing will be engulfed in profound darkness. There will be no light on the field. It is going to be the deadly quagmire with

  no visibility on the earth. The rattle of chariots, the hooves of steeds and the shrieks of elephants fill the welkin once again. First time in the last fourteen days, we will witness the war after the sunset. We have no options left. We are attacked, and we will reply. We are Kshatriyas. We are born to fight; we live to protect. And we are born to answer the summons of com- batants. I put on my headgear and wear my shield once again. I cover my arms with leather strips, pick my heaviest six-cubits- long bow, and march towards my chariot. This war has a lot left within.

  The battle is on… More rules are yet to be broken…

  DRONACHARYA

  uryodhana blares his conch and summons the Pandava army for the battle. This is already evening and as per

  the rules of the war defined on the first day, the battle should be stopped with the last ray of sun vanishing. But nobody cares for rules, now. The only thought hovers in the hateful minds is victory. Since the grandsire Bhishma left the war-field, the pre- ceptor’s main aim is to captivate Yudhishthira. The rules were already broken, when the six warriors mercilessly surrounded Abhimanyu and ruthlessly killed him. And today seems to be its extension. Duryodhana is continuously blaring his conch, and the rattle of his chariot penetrates the darkness. The army on this side gets ready to counter their respective antagonists, my tiredness sublimates. The soldiers on our side are ready to give a fitting reply to our foes.

  “They are advancing faster than expected.”, yelled Sudasa looking at me. I can see the bewildered face. Like many war- riors, these charioteers too never experienced fighting in the dark. I signal him to bring the decked chariot quickly.

  There is neither array formation required and nor any command needed. The only expectation is to strike back. Save yourself and save your countrymen. Duryodhana has managed to convince the Guru to continue the fight. Either he wants to avenge the death of Dussala’s husband, or the continuous defeats have petrified him. Bhima has nailed his emotions

  by killing thirty-one of Kaurava brothers during the day. And that was not all as Bhima continued to uproot a large chunk of troops of Dushasana, and Karna too. All this must have broken Duryodhana within. His hatred for Pandu sons and frustration of defeats must have overpowered his intelligence.

  “Why did Drona accept his obstinacy?” I mutter.

  Dhrishtadyumna calls for an immediate huddle. I rush to the meeting place. Arjuna, Krishna, and other Pandu sons are already present. I see the grin on the victor’s face has not receded yet. After all, he delivered what he avowed. Amidst all the key warriors, Dhrishtadyumna shares his plan for the evening war. Our main target will be to seize the progress of Drona. If Drona remains in control, the king will be safe. In the darkness, it is not easy to differentiate between the men in two armies, and hence we need the lamps to lighten up the field. The foot-soldiers and animals are tired. Thus, Dhrishtadyumna frees the foot-soldiers from core responsi- bilities and calls for backup cavalry of animals. Foot-soldiers gets the task to illuminate the battlefield with lamps and Mashaals. The warriors on the chariots and elephants will have to take charge against the coming tsunami. The plan looks good but, still, the count of opponents is more than us. And we will need someone to take the lead. The responsi- bilities need to be shared. Arjuna is tired too. His strength is unquestionable, but we cannot expose him to the fullest. There is a need for a backup plan.

  The opponents are not far; the continuous increase in the rattling of chariots and drumbeats prove it. We position our- selves as fast as possible. The arrows of the opponents start smiting, chaos increases. As advised by our commander,

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  the foot-soldiers have lit thousands of lamps and scattered themselves across the field with lamps in hands. Some lamps are placed on top of chariots and some on palanquins of elephants too. The troop divides into two groups, one with the sword in hand and the other with Mashaal. I am amazed that in no time, the soldiers managed to eliminate darkness from the field. The entire land starts glittering. The plan of Dhrishtadyumna worked. We gradually start moving towards the centre of the field. The chariot-warriors lift the bows and start pouring arrows like a downpour from the clouds. Once again, the entire area engulfs with the whiz of arrows. Arjuna advances towards Drona. Bhima rushes towards Duryodhana, and I counter the attacks of Dushasana. The hatred in my heart for Dushasana is extreme. In the court- room of Hastinapur, he was Dushasana, who first tried to rob the dignity of the princess of Panchal. He neither respected the modesty of a woman nor cared about the elders present. If I were not bound by Bhima’s oath, I would have snatched his soul from his body. He is a skilled warrior but has no intellect to differentiate the good and the evil. A man with no intellect is no human!

  I will have to let go of the emotions arising due to today’s loss. The death of Jayadratha should not impede my progress in battle. The war is on, and the hopes haven’t died yet. Arjuna had killed soldiers in thousands during the day. And still, there is no sign of tiredness. The wielder of Gandiva is no less than Vishnu in the brilliance of handling weapons. He answers the fury of the preceptor with equal intelligence. Drona is leading his panoply, loud and enthusiastic souls following him have no sign of showing mercy. Arjuna advances towards the Guru with more belligerence. They both do not surrender. The pre- ceptor must be happy as his teachings have not been in vain.

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  Witnessing the mentor and the disciple in one frame of sight, a memory of our gurukul flashes in front of my eyes when Arjuna adamantly asked Drona to teach him how to fight in darkness and later he practised diligently. That diligence is getting paid off today. He is the only one who can efficiently counter the attacks of the preceptor. The striking is continuously increas- ing. The heat of burning lamps has evaporated the cool breeze of night.

  Drona is getting furious. Drona alone has killed thousands of soldiers and warriors since the start of the day, and there is no end to his gory attacks. The affrighted soldiers run for their lives, but Drona is not sparing anybody. He is unstoppable. The grandsons of Drupada also come to support Arjuna in coun- tering the attacks. The swift-going shafts of Drona became the killers of the grandsons of Drupada. How crude the war can become
! The preceptor who had won the world based on his knowledge and expertise of handling weapons became a slave to the commands of Duryodhana. Man is a slave of wealth and surrenders before power in haste. Those who rebel against atrocities and walk for their duties become immortals; rest diminish in the pages of history.

  Suddenly I hear Dhrishtadyumna roars in anger seeing the death of his son. Fury and agony walk together ruthlessly depriving the earth of young boys. The future is being killed in the merciless hands of the present. The chaos, cries, pain, agony, anger, fear; all these emotions float on the field in dark- ness. The darkness within the heart is denser than the one outside. There is no place for humility, and there is no willing- ness to let go of worldly desires. The clangs and the twangs mix with the howling of jackals and creaking of insects as the night advances.

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  I counter the attacks on me and my army. The night has obscured my vision, and the targets are distracted. As I have never practised fighting in the dark, attacking the foes with the same accuracy is getting difficult. Albeit lamps are burning on the field, it is not comparable to daylight. The pain has started overpowering the zeal, and it is visible on the faces of the soldiers too. I am extremely tired, and drows- iness blankets my eyes. My mind wants to fight, but my body gives away to tiredness. Suddenly, I feel a heavy movement on the field. I look around. A mountain-like structure seems to be advancing piercing the thick darkness of the battlefield. As it moves further and as the light from the lamps falls on it, my mouth drops in shock. This enormous structure is a gigantic chariot with eight pairs of wheels pulled by sixteen steeds. And on it enters the son of Bhima, Ghatotkacha. Ghatotkacha in his real identity, as Rakshasa, enters the field with demonian roars. He is a master of illusions, and his style of combat is different from those of Kshatriyas. He is not bound to the tenets of Kshatriya Dharma of war. Though all of us also have abandoned the Dharma on this battlefield! His only goal is to target the enemies and suck the blood out of them.

  Ghatotkacha enters the field with his retinue of Rakshasa sol- diers. They are experts in fighting at night. Dhrishtadyumna deploys his best warriors at the right time. Albeit he has lost his son, his intelligence is not obscured. He knows his prime duty. When nobody except Arjuna can fight in the dark- ness, the entry of Ghatotkacha fills the atmosphere with unmatched energy and all the soldiers of the Pandava army scream in joy.

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  Ghatotkacha, a giant with mace-like arms, frightful face, reddened eyes, sturdy shoulders, sunken belly, blazing mouth and wide jaws, stands in the field on his huge chariot. His laughter is enough to petrify the soldiers. His retinue is ready to uproot the presence of the Kaurava army from the battle- field. The earth shakes as his chariot moves, and the entire field gets filled with a blazing sound of demonian laughter. He doesn’t need any conch to signal his presence. The differently skilled soldiers of Ghatotkacha army attack the large troops of Kauravas. Ghatotkacha creates havoc on the field. The soldiers of the Kaurava army, run for their lives. A single arrow, when released from Ghatotkacha’s mighty bow, penetrates more than five soldiers. A powerful blow of his mace shatters the skulls in the blink of an eye, and his sword beheads tens of heads in one strike. Drona’s attack gradually becomes weaker. The other Rakshasas start killing the soldiers of foes in great numbers. The axes, lances, spears, stone-hammers and several other unimaginable and unseen weapons, are used by this Rakshasa army. Their powerful blows are enough to give chills to the spine. The soldiers of our army look more confi- dent than before. They joyfully jump on the ground and raise slogans against the Kaurava army. The energetic soldiers have no fears of Drona. They see the night saviour in Ghatotkacha. The arrangement shifts, and the leader too. Ghatotkacha starts uprooting the dense forest of soldiers, and his gigantic aco- lytes are more perilous. He creates illusions on the ground ter- rifying the opponents, and the foes get trapped into the tough panoply of Ghatotkacha’s army. There is certainly nobody who can control this erupting volcano.

  Ghatotkacha’s entry in the middle of the night has become a boon for us. He has helped our soldiers recover from the fright of fighting at night. When the depression and cries of opponents

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  increase, Duryodhana shouts in anger, “Is there nobody in this large pool of unparalleled warriors who could control this quagmire. The ruthless Rakshasa is decimating our army like mere insects, and we can’t even control the attacks. O dear friend Karna! O son of our preceptor, Ashwatthama! Have you accepted this wrecker as our end? If there is nobody in the field present who can counter Ghatotkacha, I, son of Dhritarashtra, will take this duty.” I can sense the frustration and anger in his voice. His remarks in a trembled and broken voice, try to uplift the confidence of his valiant warriors. I respect my brother for his tenacious attitude. But the determination mixed with arro- gance fails. I wish he would have understood this!

  Listening to Duryodhana, Karna and Ashwatthama make their move towards Ghatotkacha’s army. Ashwatthama is a learned warrior. We all are scholars of the same gurukul, but few graduated with distinctions, and Ashwatthama is one of them. He had always challenged Arjuna during the training and had sometimes succeeded too. Guru takes pride in his son’s prowess. And why shouldn’t he? After all, his prowess is the result of Guru’s determination.

  Ashwatthama rushes towards the army of demons and starts shattering the troops in large numbers. His pointed shafts and venomous arrows pierce the thick chests of Rakshasas. The blood, broken bones, and torn flesh make the sight gory for the weak-hearted, but scenic, for the valiant warriors. Hundreds of his close acolytes create equal havoc like Ashwatthama. The arrows, flying through the sky pene- trating the darkness, steal the lives of soldiers. The army of Ghatotkacha faces the heat of Ashwatthama’s wrath. He kills the Rakshasa soldiers mercilessly. Suddenly there is a shift in balance. With these strikes of Ashwatthama on Rakshasa

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  army, Kaurava soldiers get time to counter the attacks of other soldiers of our army. Ashwatthama roars like a victorious lion on the field. He has made his sire proud today. He shouts with immense pride, “O son of mother Gandhari! Worry not when I am present in the field. I will never let your expectations go down.” He picturises the story of valour and pride on the battlefield.

  Karna too starts striking at our army. His skills are not unknown, but he hasn’t evinced his prowess yet. Judging the situation, Arjuna comes forward to counter him. They both have some not known bitterness for each other. Karna shouts, “O my friend Duryodhana! I will today slay the wielder of Gandiva and gift you the throne of Hastinapur.” I smile within. To put forth intelligence and prowess without the sense of bragging is the sign of victor, but Karna is the opposite of it. There is no doubt in his prowess, but he builds a lot of castles in the air. I hear Guru Kripa also laughing listening to the unproved eminences of Karna. Many times, in the past, Duryodhana needed Karna, but he failed to safeguard his best friend. I have no qualms with him, but it’s needless to brag with no substance. Karna reaches close to the Pandava army, and on the other hand, Ashwatthama is continuously targeting the Rakshasa army. The invincible Arjuna takes his position to counter Karna and Dhrishtadyumna goes towards Ashwatthama. I ask my charioteer to move with Dhrishtadyumna. I am decked with my heaviest bow. The quivers are filled with the pointed shafts and lances. I hold the bow with my left hand and pick arrows using the right hand from the quivers. In a fraction of a moment, I release multiple shafts towards the large troop following Ashwatthama. The shafts pierce the soldiers, some take their lives, and some leave the soldiers grieving in pain.

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  Ashwatthama is at his best tonight. There is no sign of tired- ness on his face. The pearl gifted to him by his father glitters on his forehead with the reflection of lamps. He is on his killing spree and mercy is not his favourite word today. It never was. Like the dense clouds shower the heavy downpour, Ashwatthama is showering arrows from his chariot vanquishing the ogres. His prowess is unmatchable. These continuou
s strikes from the son of the preceptor create chaos on the field. The foot-soldiers run for their lives and the Rakshasa troops find it difficult, to counter Ashwatthama’s attack. Dhrishtadyumna and I try to protect the army by countering the attacks, but Ashwatthama has already done huge damage to Ghatotkacha’s army. Beholding the unparalleled calibre of Ashwatthama Dhrishtadyumna calls Arjuna for help. Arjuna is fighting against Karna but stopping Ashwatthama is equally important. Arjuna calls Sahadeva to counter Karna, and he comes to the rescue of remaining troops from the anger of Ashwatthama.

  Sahadeva strikes Karna. I can see a smirk on Karna’s face. He knows Sahadeva will not stand against him for long. Karna strikes at him and soon deprives him of his weapons. Karna breaks Sahadeva’s bow, and before he could react to Karna’s agility, he is shrouded by a thick wall of arrows formed by Karna. Karna laughs, proving his authority on the field. Sahadeva is on the mercy of Karna’s arrow, but he lets him go after ridiculing him with his cruel words, “O little son of Pandu! Go and fight with the ones who are equal to you in your prowess. Don’t stand before the ones superior to you.”

  Karna knows how to demoralize and insult anyone. I wit- nessed him many times cursing the Pandavas. And that was the