The atmosphere was lethargic, even as his emotions soared. And when his gaze turned to the potter girl, his body shivered with excitement. He became a slave of that gaze.
The potter girl’s body lay like flowing water over the rock. Those innocent eyes, those colourful lips! Radhe’s evil body took over him and he gave in to it.
The thief’s eyes became empty and then full again. Suddenly he felt scared of someone. He straightened up. His body had gotten loose and the wrinkles on his face were gone. He raised his face and looked up, way up. The swinging pendant mesmerized him. Radhe was lost in the pleasure of the beauty of the three worlds that was at the peak of the potter girl’s youth. He felt as if a lot had happened, had already happened. He sighed.
The tipsy-tiddley night was finally over. The day had not dawned yet and the west wind had already started blowing.
He was about to leave to get breakfast for both of them.
As he touched her dupatta, the potter girl awakened and sat up surprised. ‘Oh my!’
Radhe laughed.
‘See, how she was sleeping? I thought I’d cover you with the dupatta . . . ’ Radhe was unable to say anything else.
The potter girl looked at her condition and quickly stood up, wrapping her dupatta around her, agitated.
‘Neither do you want to eat nor do you want to sleep, is it, Uncle?’
‘Girl, don’t call me Uncle.’
‘Okay!’ the girl spread her right hand and said, ‘As if that’s an abusive word? If not Uncle, then what should I call you? Son? And I am Shanti.’
‘Call me Radhe.’
‘No, Radhe Uncle.’
‘Now go sleep!’
‘And you?’
‘I will get breakfast.’
‘Girl, you are naïve. Aren’t you afraid?’
‘Afraid of what? And if something happens, you aren’t too far away, right?’
Abruptly, he put on his turban and left.
He took a while to return with breakfast. The travelers were leaving in their bullock carts. He couldn’t spot Shanti anywhere.
He went to wash his hands and face at a well near the temple, when he saw Shanti washing her clothes at the end of a gutter flowing from the well. Radhe walked over to her and asked while laughing, ‘Aren’t you stupid? Come here, you cannot wash clothes there.’
Shanti, caught by surprise, quickly picked up her clothes, hid them behind her back and looked down.
Radhe saw that her eyes were swollen and red from crying. She had scratches on her cheeks and arms, and was shivering.
Before Shanti could say anything, Radhe snatched her clothes away and saw that there were bloodstains on them, which Shanti was trying to wash. Her blouse was torn in the front and was in shreds.
‘Who was that demon?’, Radhe yelled, ‘Say something! I will break his bones.’
In her response, Shanti started crying and sobbing.
Radhe’s eyes were full of fury.
‘Did he cut your tongue? Tell me who that son of a pig was.’
Shanti felt ashamed, her eyes darting from left to right, and said—
‘Keep your voice low—what had to happen, happened. Why are you broadcasting it now?’
Radhe felt sick and sat on a rock nearby. He started smoking. Shanti looked down and said—
‘It happened after you left in the morning. Before I could wake up and rouse the others, someone clamped my mouth shut and held me down with both hands, and he . . . ’ She started crying while speaking. ‘There were two of them and I . . . I resisted a lot. I thought I would die before letting something like this happen to me—but that’s exactly what has happened. I couldn’t recognize him—I don’t even remember his face. But he was wearing a silk shirt, a ring and one of his little fingers was missing. Bloody demon!’
Radhe was caught in a web of thoughts. He was sitting with clenched fists. ‘If only you could have recognized him,’ he said, ‘I would have gouged out his eyes.’
‘What is the point now, Uncle?’ Shanti said and stood up. Radhe too got up. For a while, they both didn’t say anything. Radhe had felt uncomfortable when she had addressed him as ‘uncle’, but he did not say anything this time.
‘Okay, come now,’ Radhe said, ‘My house is on the other side of the river, eat and drink something there before you go anywhere.
Shanti followed him but her gait no longer had the lively elegance of a butterfly.
Everyone had crossed the river. Only one bullock cart was left; it was waiting for passengers.
Radhe paid the fare and they got into the cart.
After a while, Shanti said—
‘Uncle, I have always been unfortunate.
‘My mother died while giving birth to me When I was thirteen, our house was mortgaged. My brother is dead and now my father too is about to die.’ She sighed. ‘And to top it off, my husband threw me out of the house.’
Radhe was taken aback. He looked into her eyes—there was so much grief in them and yet he asked like a fool, ‘What? threw you out? But you are so beautiful!’
‘Yes, and playful too. That is what my bad luck is. I am cheerful by nature and never realize when I can be too full of emotions. At my in-laws’ and parents’ places, all I ever saw was poverty and illiteracy. I think I should control myself. Otherwise, anybody can think of me as anything, and you cannot shut people’s mouths, right? But . . . But,’ Shanti’s eyes filled with tears. ‘But I became my own enemy and had to leave my husband’s house. People started spreading rumors about me. What I was afraid of eventually happened. My nature betrayed me. My husband got annoyed. I kept laughing. He kicked me out of the house. I . . . I have always been unfortunate.’
Radhe felt miserable. By that time, they had reached the riverbank. He jumped out and Shanti followed him.
‘Be careful. Don’t go there. There is a bog over there.’
The village was visible now.
‘Look, that house with a courtyard and the tall tamarind tree is mine.’ Radhe smiled. ‘I am returning home after five and a half years.’
‘Really? Did you go abroad to earn?
‘No’ Radhe said, ‘I went to jail. Ha ha!’ He guffawed. Then he slowed down and started walking beside Shanti. He got tensed again.
‘I am a thief, understood. You are not afraid of me, are you?’
‘Who? Scared of you?’
Shanti looked at Radhe with tears in her eyes. ‘For me, you are not a thief.’ And she laughed for the first time that day. Radhe felt happy. He laughed out loud.
‘I am a thief, a good one too, understood?’
Meanwhile, they reached his house. The doors were open. Radhe saw there was a horse tied to a tree in his courtyard.
‘What’s this?’ he said, ‘A horse in my courtyard! It seems in my absence the king has showered this place with all his wealth.’
Aru came running outside, hearing his voice. ‘It’s you!’ She said, ‘I knew this could only be your voice.’ Radhe approached his wife and stood next to her.
‘You look fine! What is this merriment going on here? Whose horse is this?’
Shanti went and stood behind Radhe quietly.
Aru laughed.
‘It’s Kichlu’s horse—he just crossed the river and came back. Didn’t you meet him at the sanctuary on the other side?’
‘Where is he anyway?’ Radhe became restless.
‘He’s eating in the kitchen.’
Soon, Kichlu came out of the kitchen, laughing, ‘Here I am!’ But as soon as he spotted Shanti, his laughter froze and his eyes grew wide in horror.
And when Shanti saw him, she screamed and hid behind Radhe, holding his arm. The bundle of clothes she was holding fell on the ground and the half-washed bloodstained clothes got scattered. As Radhe’s eyes fell on them so did his son’s, which the former noticed. He also noticed that Kichlu was wearing a silk shirt, a ring, and one of his little fingers was missing.
Radhe gritted his teeth, ‘Rascal! Shameless devi
l!’ Before anybody could stop him, he hit his son violently. Kichlu fell down, his mouth bleeding.
‘What? What have you done? Have you returned with a bloodthirst?’ Aru said as she bent down and covered Kichlu’s body like monsoon clouds in the sky.
‘What terrible wrong has he done to deserve this?’
Radhe grabbed Aru’s hand and pushed her away.
‘Ask that pig!’
Kichlu rose up, crossed the porch and ran towards the gate. Shanti fell down at Radhe’s feet and cried, ‘No-no, let him go, Uncle!’
‘Shut up! don’t call me Uncle!’
‘You returned after so many years and . . . ’ Tears streamed down Aru’s cheeks. Her voice choked. ‘And this precious boy . . . ’
‘Precious?’ Radhe yelled.
‘Look at him—he who raped this innocent girl. Whose son is he? Tell me whose drop of blood is he?’
His eyes, which were full of passion, became empty in an instant. The tension on his face vanished. The beautiful moment flashed in front of his eyes—the breeze, the cloudy night, the dupatta, that pendant and that openness full of relief that one wanted to get lost in.
Radhe sat down with a thud. He had never cried before, but today his eyes were wet.
Aru sat beside him and running her fingers through his coarse hair, asked gently—
‘I too am asking you the same thing—whose drop of blood is he?1
Whose drop of blood was Duryodhana?
The five dispositional traits—Machiavellianism, narcissism, psychopathy, neuroticism, and sadism—that make up a villain’s personality can be easily traced to Duryodhana’s ancestors. Figure 1 shows a family tree that maps the DNA transmission in the Kuru clan. While Satyavati exhibits Machiavellianism, narcissism, and neuroticism in several of her actions and behaviours, Shantanu displays narcissism, neuroticism and psychopathy. Similarly, Ambika, Duryodhana’s grandmother, also exhibits neurotic and psychopathological tendencies. In fact, Ambika’s characterization in the epic clearly indicates her worried and fearsome behaviour.
Further, we can also find traces of the five negative personality traits in Ambika’s son, Dhritarashtra. Indeed, the epic provides us with several examples of Dhritarashtra’s villainous actions and behaviours. His jealously towards Pandu and his sons, his possessiveness towards the throne, his insecurities about his children, his excessive desire for worldly possessions, and his lusty demeanour are just some of the many behaviours that indicate that Dhritarashtra was indeed a DNA carrier of several negative dispositional traits
Similarly, Duryodhana’s mother, Gandhari’s actions and behaviours also demonstrate several mixed and villainous characteristics in her personality. For example, the text is ambiguous about her decision to blindfold herself in order to render herself blind like her husband: it is unclear whether she does this to share his experience or to shame and guilt him. In fact, her vow to end the Kuru clan in order to avenge the insult caused to her family by her abduction and forced marriage, also are significant indicators of negative traits in her.
It is evident then that Duryodhana inherits much of his personality from his ancestors. There are many more signs in the text that indicate the role played by family in Duryodhana’s inheritance of negative traits. For example, all of his grandparents had difficult married lives. Dyads such as Satyavati–Shantanu, Ambika–Vichitravirya (or Veda Vyasa), and finally, Gandhari–Dhritarashtra all suffered from troublesome marriages.
While we can comfortably conclude that Duryodhana’s personality was merely a constellation of the personality traits of his ancestors and the outcome of their disturbed married lives, a new question arises: where did the Pandavas get their heroism from? In theory, the Pandavas should have had personalities like Duryodhana. But clearly, there are stark differences. Despite a shared ancestry and inheritance, the Pandavas’ characterization is constructed in opposition to that of Duryodhana. How did the author of the epic justify the Pandavas’ heroism against Duryodhana’s villainy?
We can find the answer to the above question in Figure 1, which shows that the Pandavas’ ancestry is unclear and seemingly obscure. While Duryodhana and the Pandavas have a common family tree till the birth of Pandu, thereafter the Pandavas’ lineage becomes hazy. For example, the epic is silent on the identity of the Pandavas’ actual fathers. We only know, from the epic, that Pandu took Kunti and Madri along with him to the jungle, where the Pandavas were born. However, with some speculation, we can probably conclude that Pandu was impotent. Then whose children were the Pandavas? Scarce evidence is presented in the epic, which obfuscates who Kunti and Madri niyoged with.
However, our primary inquiry is not about the exact ancestry of the Pandavas. What is interesting, however, is asking why the text chooses to conceal the identities of the Pandavas’ real fathers? Was this decision the outcome of smart authorship, simply an after-thought, or careful HARKing?2
These questions certainly raise red flags. There is evidence in the epic that suggests the possibility of HARKing. For example, in addition to concealing the identities of the Pandavas’ fathers, Kunti’s characterization is also very interesting. The text presents Kunti as a strong woman with an independent mind—I called her the DNA disruptor. Noticeably on the other hand, Pandu’s second wife Madri is shown to be immature and vulnerable. This difference in characterization probably exists to justify Nakula and Sahadeva’s lifelong subordination to the other three Pandavas.
The Mahabharata is a very interesting and seemingly scientifically crafted epic. Its author(s) have attempted to address almost every aspect of a person’s life in some form across the long epic. As this book shows, they even discuss and consider genetic inheritance. The Mahabharata is a fascinating study in the creation and development of a character.
Duryodhana is a well-crafted character who performs several villainous actions and behaviours. The epic presents enormous evidence in favour of reading genetic inheritance as the most powerful force in shaping his personality. Additionally, while Duryodhana’s characterization firmly roots him as evil, the Mahabharata is less definitive in its portrait of heroes and heroism—they are presented as heroes relative to those around them. For example, the unclear and well-concealed ancestry of the Pandavas, the characterization of Kunti as a strong woman, Draupadi’s instigative role, and Bhishma and Drona’s indifference, all add to the heroism of the Pandavas. Also, while justifications for the Pandavas’ apparently evil behaviour are available in the epic, no such treatment is extended for the villainous actions and behaviours of Duryodhana. While readers are largely allowed to form their own opinions about Duryodhana, the epic certainly attempts to influence how they read him and what conclusions they draw about the Pandavas—a critical element in the process of Duryodhanization.
Finally, Duryodhanization has been adapted into the work of historians and academics and through them by common man. As I discussed in the early chapters of this book, systematic and planned disbursement, development and distribution of knowledge, often leads to a bounded rationality. Though our sample size is only four units—Duryodhana, Dhana Nanda, Aurangzeb and Hitler—phenomenology and a qualitative literature review clearly indicate that the characterization of all four are ‘Duryodhanized’ in many ways.
Conclusively, then, the Mahabharata leaves us with yet another critical learning—Duryodhanization.
NOTES
Introduction
1. The study of the origin of words and the way in which their meanings have changed throughout history.
2. Falsification is a term used by social scientists when they find new evidence to extend an existing theory or propose a new theory.
I The Usual Suspects: Personality Traits Responsible for Villainous Behaviour
1. Saul Kassin, Psychology (USA: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 2003).
2. Thomas J. Bouchard Jr. and John C. Loehlin., Genes, Evolution, and Personality (Behavior Genetics, Vol. 31, No. 3, 2001).
3. R.C. Nichols, Homo (1978): 29, 158.
4. E. Turkheimer, ‘Three Laws of Behavior Genetics and What They Mean’, Current Directions in Psychological Science (2000): 9, 160–64.
5. David Watson, Mood and Temperament (New York, NY: Guilford Press, 2000).
6. David Watson, Lee Anna Clark and Auke Tellegen, ‘Development and Validation of Brief Measures of Positive and Negative Affect: The PANAS Scales’, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 54 (1988): 1063–70.
7. Alike Tellegen, David T. Lykken, Thomas J. Bouchard, Kimerly J. Wilcox, Nancy L. Segal and Stephen Rich, ‘Personality Similarity in Twins Reared Apart and Together’, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 54 (1988): 1031–39.
8. Lisa M. Penney and Paul E. Spector, ‘Job Stress, Incivility, and Counterproductive Workplace Behavior (CWB): The Moderating Role of Negative Affectivity’, Journal of Organizational Behavior 26 (2005): 777–96.
9. Daniel P. Skarlicki, Robert Folger and Paul Tesluk, ‘Personality as a Moderator Between Fairness and Retaliation’ Academy of Management Journal 42 (1999): 100–08.
1 Machiavellianism
1. James M. LeBreton, Levi K. Shiverdecker and Elizabeth M. Grimaldi, ‘The Dark Triad and Workplace Behavior’, Annual Review of Organizational Psychology and Organizational Behavior (2017).
2. Ibid.
3. Emily A. Dowgwillo and Aaron L. Pincus, ‘Differentiating Dark Triad Traits within and across Interpersonal Circumplex Surfaces’, Journal of Sage Publications 24(1) (2017): 24–44.
4. Richard P. Bagozzi, William Verbeke, Roeland C. Dietvorst, F.D. Belschak, Wouter E. Van Den Berg and Wim J.R. Rietdijk, ‘Theory of Mind and Empathic Explanations of Machiavellianism: A Neuroscience Perspective’, Journal of Management 39(7) (2013): 1760–98.
5. Elizabeth J. Austin, Daniel Farrelly, Carolyn Black and Helen Moore, ‘Emotional Intelligence, Machiavellianism and Emotional Manipulation: Does EI Have a Dark Side?’, Personality and Individual Differences 43 (2007): 179–89.
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