Today Gandhari may be remembered as women whose aim is to love their husbands, and be physically and emotionally available to them. However, have we found Gandhari to be really submissive to her blind husband who was, literally and metaphorically, blind to all the unethical deeds of his sons? Her internal eyes, behind the blindfolded ones, appear to have created an uncommon energy of seeing even what typical visual perception couldn’t identify.
The second behavioural instance of her traits was when she repeatedly pleaded with her husband not to deprive the Pandavas8 of their legitimate share. The thrust of her argument was that Dhritarashtra was first the king and then a father. So, he should be guided in all his decisions by law and the welfare of the people of Hastinapur. Not by his sentiments and ambitions as the father of Duryodhana. In the Kaurava family, we don’t see Dhritarashtra conducting himself as a capable father figure. The main individual who was bold enough to call attention to the Kaurava’s wrongdoings was their mother. Gandhari’s assertiveness and excessive need for admiration from others around her imply her strong feelings of equity and morality. Her idea of righteousness was so strong and profound that it became a part of her identity. And therefore, she thought that everyone else was inferior to her in being righteous.
The third instance depicting her personality traits in Ganguli’s translation of the Mahabharata is as follows:
Sometime after Gandhari conceived and she bore the burden in her womb for two long years without being delivered. And she was greatly afflicted at this. It was then that she heard that Kunti had brought forth a son whose splendour was like unto the morning sun. Impatient of the period of gestation which had prolonged so long, and deprived of reason by grief, she struck her womb with great violence without the knowledge of her husband. And thereupon came out of her womb, after two years’ growth, a hard mass of flesh like unto an iron ball. When she was about to throw it away, Dwaipayana, learning everything by his spiritual powers, promptly came there, and that first of ascetics beholding that ball of flesh, addressed the daughter of Subala thus, ‘What hast thou done?’ Gandhari, without endeavouring to disguise her feelings, addressed the rishi and said, ‘Having heard that Kunti had brought forth a son like unto Surya in splendour, I struck in grief at my womb.’
In these lines, Gandhari’s envy and desire to be the mother of the heir to the throne is so prominent. One can easily see her narcissistic and neurotic character. She is only concerned about her stature as the ‘rajmata’, and maintaining her superiority over Kunti in the palace.
The fourth instance that highlights her personality was when Duryodhana came and asked her for the boon of victory in the war. All she said was that victory would be given to those who have been righteous. She knew very well that the Pandavas were righteous, and that was their strength in the war. Due to her need to feel superior, she could not give the boon of victory to her son. However, she was also a mother. So, she asked Duryodhana to come naked when she opened her blindfold for the first time since she had put it on. Her eyes had powerful energy, which could convert his mortal body to a body as hard as iron. This would make him invincible in war. She was emotionally unstable, and unable to choose between her role as a mother and as a righteous woman. All of these behavioural instances denote that Gandhari certainly possessed several negative personality traits such as narcissism, psychopathy and Machiavellianism.
Dhritarashtra: The Blind Father
Dhritarashtra, the visually impaired lord, was a physically and ethically blind individual. He does nothing to control his errant children, redressing their acts while Gandhari stays steadfast in her position. He could be seen as a person exhibiting sadistic traits with low self-esteem. Dhritarashtra persisted in acts that prompted disaster since he had a twisted idea of his character. He equated it with worldly desires and belongings. He displayed the kind of shrewd and indecent manners of thinking that are symptomatic of narcissistic, sadistic, and psychotic personality traits. He represents narcissistic, childish individuals who are fanatically distracted with limited feelings of ‘I’ and ‘mine’.
Many scholars believe that the Mahabharata was written in a period when monarchy as an institution was still being established. The question of who should be the successor was mootable.9 Another group considers disability as a flaw and deficit. This attitude is deep-rooted; its traces can be found in traditional texts, scriptures and even social narratives. Dhritarashtra, the oldest, blind son of King Vichitravirya, is deprived of being crowned king as is customary after the father’s death. Visually impaired, he is perceived as deficient and thus not competent enough to be the ruler. Instead his younger brother Pandu, who is not disabled, is nominated as the king. When Pandu dies, Dhritarashtra is appointed as the ruler. However, that is to be only until Pandu’s sons are old enough to rule the kingdom. This is ironical, as when there is absolutely no choice, Dhritarashtra’s impairment ceases to matter. Dhritarashtra was unable to fight this oppression and his aspirations to acquire what he rightfully considers ‘his’ royal claim to kingship were in vain. Conventional interpretation paints Duryodhana as the evil-hearted person responsible for perpetuating the final war. What gets overshadowed is the internalization and transfer, both at a conscious and unconscious level, of the pain, hurt, and anger experienced by a man who is stigmatized for his blindness. One whose psyche is imbalanced because of an absence of moral courage is capable of resorting to brute force to help his cause. However, he can never stay in peace and bliss.10 Dhritarashtra could never make sense of his identity as ruler or a father, and could never differentiate between these roles. The outcome was the ghastly war, as well as the loss of his descendants, whom he upheld all his life through activities that were unequivocally untrustworthy.
The first instance that points to his negative personality traits was his constant support of his sons’ claim to the throne. He refused to give any share to the Pandavas, even when he knew it was wrong. Guardians play a noteworthy part in moulding the lives of their kids, and Dhritarashtra’s children too followed in the strides of their unjust father. When guardians are avaricious, pretentious, scheming and unjust, their children unknowingly acquire similar attributes.11 The wretchedness endures in our culture in light of the fact that parents don’t understand that children brought up in an unhealthy environment will likewise wind up to be unworthy and unjust. Thus, a king or a leader ought to be honourable and an example to look up to. Dhritarashtra is the exact opposite of this.12
The second instance was of him showing outward happiness at the construction of Khandavaprastha from scratch, as it was built into a beautiful kingdom by the Pandavas. But in fact, he shared Duryodhana’s jealousy over the development of a new capital. Duryodhana was now hell-bent on acquiring this newly built kingdom, and with his uncle Shakuni, he devised a plan to invite Yudhishthira for a game of dice. It was clear that this was not meant to be a friendly game. Some great deceptions were going to take place. Both Bhishma and Vidura advised Dhritarashtra against sending the invitation (which had to go in Dhritarashtra’s name). Dhritarashtra openly expressed his unwillingness to go against Duryodhana’s wishes. In a court presided by him, Dhritarashtra watched (or rather heard) with pleasure as Duryodhana won the game, round after round, while the Pandavas lost everything. Cheating was evident but no one said anything. Dhritarashtra, as Duryodhana’s father and the king, could have stopped the game, but he did not.
The third behavioural instance demonstrating his traits was when things got out of control during the game of dice. Yudhishthira wagered Draupadi as his last remaining ‘possession’. Dhritarashtra said and did nothing at this blatant violation of a woman’s basic right to be free. Even when Draupadi was being stripped, he remained silent. It seemed all his sense of raj-dharma, and even plain decency, had left him. By the time he paid heed to her helpless pleadings and called for a halt, it was too late. The three boons offered to Draupadi could not make up for all that had transpired thus far.
The fourth instance was
at the end of the Pandavas’ exile, when they came to claim their kingdom. Krishna came as an emissary of the Pandavas, not so much to enforce the agreement, but to negotiate a settlement. He pleaded for five villages or even five houses for the Pandavas to live in. Duryodhana refused to give them anything. And Dhritarashtra did nothing. War could have been averted at this stage if he had exerted his authority, but he failed to do so. Unlike Bhishma, Dhritarashtra had full positional power being the king. The duties as a king ought to have taken precedence over his duties as a father, especially when his son was so plainly jealous, unscrupulous and unfair. It is an ethical imperative to do one’s duty. Favouritism ultimately exacts its price. Thus, he failed both the moral and the ethical test. His actions can’t be justified even from a consequentialist point of view. For that, the overall welfare of his kingdom should have been his objective. Instead, he only focused on the welfare of his children. The disastrous consequences emphasized his narcissism, which went to such extremes that it became psychotic in nature.
Gandhari and Dhritarashtra: A Blind Couple
When the Kurukshetra war finally saw the demise of ‘adharma’ and the inevitable victory of ‘dharma’, Gandhari went to the jungles along with her husband, Kunti, and Vidura. Once, while roaming around the breathtakingly beautiful Himalayas, which can bring peace even to the most disturbed mind, Gandhari let out a deep sigh. Dhritarashtra realized that his wife was missing her childhood (as Qandahar or Gandhar is also a mountainous region), and was lamenting her married life that had deprived her of the beauty, charm and peace of her pre-marital life. He accused Gandhari of holding this grudge against her parents and her in-laws till the end of her life, when she had nothing more to lose. He further said ‘it is true that great injustice was done to you by getting you married to a blind, but have you also not been unjust to me by remaining hurt and unhappy till this day?’
Iravati Karve in Yuganta narrates this conversation between Gandhari and Dhritarashtra, which depicts the dynamics of their relationship as a married couple. Dhritarashtra asks Gandhari with pity, ‘Really, Gandhari, your life was ruined by being bound to a blind man, wasn’t it? All your life you must have yearned for your parents’ home.’ Gandhari answered, ‘Not at all. The day I married you I suppressed all thoughts of my parents’ home. Today I was recalling the country of Gandhara, not the people. Your Majesty knows that though I lived in the same courtyard as my brother, I never spoke to him.’13 It was now Dhritarashtra’s turn to speak. The scorn was gone from his voice. Almost pleadingly, he said, ‘You were deceived. Without being told of my blindness you were married to me. We did you a thousand wrongs, Gandhari. But you have paid them back. Can’t you ever forgive and forget?’14
When Kunti and Vidura stood up to leave them alone to give them privacy, Dhritarashtra ordered them to stay. He says that so far in their relationship as husband and wife, nothing has been private anyway. So, there was no point in giving them privacy now. As soon as he heard the two sit down, he turned again to Gandhari and said in a choked, excited voice, ‘Really, you have punished me severely, Gandhari. I didn’t think so at first; at the wedding ritual when you stood with your eyes blindfolded, I did not take it too seriously. I thought that I would plead with you and be able to extinguish your anger with my love. But that was not to be. At night when you came to the bedchamber, your eyes were still bound, and you came stumbling, clutching someone’s hand. I was born blind. I had become used to moving about without seeing. But you had deliberately covered your eyes. Your body was not used to blindness. What a horrible night! I don’t know why I didn’t kill you right then.’15 The angst and frustration are clear in his words. He regretted her decision to blindfold herself and thought of it as a mockery of his own disability. Gandhari was curt in her reply, and said that he should have killed her then and there in order to avoid such a horrible future. Dhritarashtra passionately asks her not to say such words, as no matter what the present conditions were, the Kuru men will always be Kshatriyas and would never kill a woman. This shows his hypocrisy as he did not raise his voice against Draupadi’s disrobing in his court, but now claims that he would never harm a woman. A group of Kshatriyas found honour in disgracing a vulnerable woman in public, but were against killing women. This depicts his narcissistic attitude.
He further goes on to say that he was the king and could have easily torn off her blindfold. But he thought that instead of forcing his decision on her, he would be able to convince her to take it off herself. However, he found her initial resentment become permanent over time. He wished to ask her to take off her blindfold when their children were born, but by that time his heart too had become stoic and devoid of empathy. This indicates his narcissistic and sadistic traits again. He reckons that maybe she would have actually done it not for him, who gave her the opportunity to express herself freely. He further admits that he felt a kind of revengeful pleasure in knowing that she would never see the face of their children.16 He realized that Gandhari was a devoted wife and would never take her blindfold off because of her strong determination. That is until and unless he ordered her to do so, which he deliberately did not. He questions whose fault it was that Pandu and him had to lead such meaningless lives, indicating his neurotic traits. Was it the suffering and misery that their mothers had to endure, which ultimately decided their fate?
He asks Gandhari if she feels cheated and deceived. He asks for her forgiveness, and also to give up her fight against the unfairness of her life. This implies that he thought she needed to let go of her anger, not only against him but against life itself. He tells her that he may have done injustice to her, but that did not give her the right to do injustice to their children and her entire life. He requests her to finally take off her blindfold, and look at the world and all its beings as they are. She does so, only to give up her life in the forest fire. Her husband, Vidura and Kunti follow suit soon after.
This whole conversation draws a sketch of their married life. Not only were they dissatisfied in their marriage, but also with themselves and their lives. The manner in which she expressed her empathy with her blind husband was indeed extraordinary. Of her own accord, she chose to be sightless as her husband. She lived as a blind woman for the rest of her long and tortured life, sharing the pain, prejudices and darkness of her husband. It was indeed an enormous sacrifice. The question, however, is whether it was an act of intense love for her husband or her way of rebelling against the blind society that ruined her life. I believe it was not her way of showing solidarity to her husband, but a way of reminding him of all the wrongdoings of the Kuru men that had deprived her of her rights and pleasures.
In either case, it meant that she was now as disabled and helpless as her husband. Both of them were unable to help, guide or support the other. And both had to depend on external help. Therefore, by necessity, there always had to be a third person in their married life. Surely, this was not the best way to be husband and wife, especially when other choices were available.
Through these instances it can be inferred that when a person with negative personality traits like narcissism, psychopathy, neuroticism and sadism marries another person with negative personality traits, the consequences can be disastrous.
Gandhari, unlike most other women in the epic, was a completely devoted and faithful wife. But her devious husband routinely took palace maids to his bed. There was an inherent strife in their conjugal life. Gandhari was disappointed in love and marriage. Some say she was cold to her husband. Physically, they had to be together by necessity. They had been forced together by a quirk of fate, but also by her self-inflicted punishment. Emotionally, they remained apart. At the very end, it was only the unbearable agony of losing all their sons and grandsons that brought them close.
At the same time, Dhritarashtra himself struggled with many complexes, disappointments and frustrations. He could never come to terms with the bitter fact that his kingship was taken away merely because he was blind. He felt it was totally unjust.
He blamed fate and the elders in the family for playing a cruel trick on him. The denial of kingship burnt a searing hole in his heart. The unexpected death of Pandu, his brother, opened his way to the throne. And when Gandhari’s womb produced sons, a new ray of hope dawned in Dhritarashtra’s heart. He fondly came to believe that his eldest son Duryodhana would rightfully succeed him as the king of Hastinapur. Since he was the king, he strongly believed that his sons should be heirs to the throne. He doted on his eldest son, and supported his cunning schemes, covertly or otherwise. All her life, Gandhari was surrounded by a weak but ambitious husband, a treacherous, scheming brother called Shakuni, and hate-filled, misguided sons. And, none of them paid heed to her words, much less cared for her feelings. Gandhari, the queen, the mother of a hundred sons, was indeed a very lonely woman.
Gandhari helplessly watched her family drift towards self-destruction. She was torn in many directions, by her maternal affections, her duty to her husband and her sense of justice. But her agony, loneliness and predicament were neither shared nor appreciated by her husband. Within her was a simmering volcano of frustration and rage, borne out of a sense of betrayal, pain, loneliness and neglect. Above all, it was fueled by the injustice meted out to her.
Gandhari’s act of opting to be sightless raises questions about the essence of married life. Should one attempt to be a replica of his or her spouse? Or should the partners in a marriage mutually complement each other by supporting each other’s abilities and try to make up for the other’s shortcomings? What is of greater value in a marriage: similarity or compatibility?
Duryodhanization Page 7