Mahabharata

by Carole Satyamurti

  is sapping my energy. My speech is slurred.

  And how can I lay claim to wisdom, Krishna,

  when you are here? I would be ashamed—

  it would be like a pupil holding forth

  in the presence of his revered master.”

  “Greatest mainstay of the Bharatas,

  your wisdom is legendary,” replied Krishna.

  “But I can ease your physical distress.

  You will have no more pain or tiredness,

  your mind will be clear, and you will remember

  all you ever knew. With your celestial eye

  you will see the truth of things entire,

  as if watching fish in limpid water.”

  The sun was dropping behind the western hills.

  All took their leave and left Bhishma to rest.

  The royal party rode back to the city.

  In the morning, Yudhishthira decided

  he would go back to Bhishma with no escort,

  only Krishna and his family.

  They found the seers around him, as before.

  Yudhishthira could not bring himself to speak,

  so Krishna approached. “How is it with you?

  I hope you are comfortable.” Bhishma replied,

  “Thanks to you, all my pain has left me,

  my mind and understanding are diamond clear.

  But why, tell me, do you not yourself

  teach Yudhishthira?” Krishna answered him,

  “I wish to do you good. What you teach the king

  will become known throughout the three worlds,

  bringing you great glory. The Pandavas

  are here. Please speak to them like a father;

  they trust you utterly.”

  “Let Yudhishthira

  question me,” said Bhishma. “That son of Pandu

  is scrupulous in his respect for dharma,

  self-controlled, truthful and devout.

  He worships the gods and respects his elders,

  is gracious to guests, and generous to brahmins—

  Yudhishthira should say what he wants to hear.”

  “He is too full of shame to approach you,

  aware of having harmed you, and so many

  other outstanding men. He fears a curse.”

  “Krishna,” said Bhishma, “as you know, the scriptures

  have laid down that warfare is to kshatriyas

  what piety and study are to brahmins.

  A kshatriya should always be prepared

  to kill even his kin in a just cause.

  Yudhishthira has acted honorably.”

  Hearing this, Yudhishthira drew near

  and clasped Bhishma’s feet. “Welcome, my son,”

  said Bhishma. “Be seated, do not be afraid.

  Whatever you desire to know—ask me.”

  50.

  THE EDUCATION OF THE DHARMA KING (1)

  Now came a time when King Yudhishthira,

  with his family and Krishna listening,

  sat, day after day, at Bhishma’s feet

  receiving knowledge and the profound wisdom

  gained in a life of dedicated service

  to the house of Bharata.

  The new king

  had spent all he had to gain the kingdom

  and now, even though he had found peace

  from the worst pangs of self-doubt and remorse,

  he suffered still. Restless, he paced his rooms

  night after sleepless night. How could he ever

  be a ruler great enough to justify

  the enormity of what the throne had cost:

  the frightful slaughter, all the broken lives—

  children who would not, now, have a father

  to launch them in the world; nubile women

  whose beds would be perpetually cold.

  Although he yearned to have no part of power,

  longed for the solace of renunciation,

  he had accepted that there was no escape

  from royal obligation. In that spirit,

  therefore, he had come to learn from Bhishma.

  Whatever questions the young king put to him,

  all his fears, all his perplexities,

  the patriarch had patient answers for him.

  And, to breathe life into the dry bones

  of abstract principle, he told stories

  of brahmins, gods, of legendary rulers

  and of mythic animals and birds.

  “All-wise Grandfather,” said Yudhishthira,

  “people say kingship is the highest calling.

  To me, it is a burden—yet I know

  that for a people to pursue in peace

  the goals of merit, wealth, and enjoyment

  their king must perform his royal duties.

  If he does not, the kingdom will be ravaged

  by evil and confusion. A king’s rule

  acts like the tether that keeps an unschooled horse

  from running wild. So please enlighten me—

  what are the crucial duties of a king?”

  “My son,” said Bhishma, “first you must understand

  that only a man devoted to the gods

  and generous to brahmins will succeed

  in following the dharma of a king.

  But do not suppose that supernatural help

  will be available if you yourself

  do not engage in energetic effort.

  Both these are necessary: human striving

  and blessings from the gods. But of these two

  effort is most crucial—when informed

  by a strong, unwavering devotion

  to the highest reality.

  “The brahmins

  are the most important people in this world.

  They are the guardians of timeless wisdom

  acquired through study and through lifelong practice

  of meditation and austerities,

  as well as through their virtuous former lives.

  They should be treated with the highest honor

  as their attainments benefit us all.

  At each important moment of our lives,

  at times of change, of joy and desolation,

  at our point of entry into the world

  and at our leaving it, the ancient prayers

  and rituals the brahmins perform for us

  ease our spiritual pilgrimage

  through this world and the next.

  “With that support

  the king can function as a man of action.

  From time to time, this question is debated:

  does the age produce the king, or the reverse?

  Have no doubt—the king creates the age.

  When a king rules following his dharma,

  wielding the rod of royal authority,

  society runs smoothly, as it should.

  The gods are worshiped properly, the crops

  are plentiful, the people are contented.

  All is harmonious in heaven and earth.

  “A bad or foolish king will bring about

  an age inferior in every way:

  sinful, confused, tormented by disasters.

  A good king makes the world a better place

  in small ways, and in great. His righteousness

  sustains morality; the rituals

  which he supports construct and integrate

  the very cosmos. For him, the right path

  is not pursuit of personal liberation

  and does not lead to renunciation.

  Rather, it takes him to the heart of conflict

  and complexity, where those he governs

  depend on him for justice and protection.

  That is your lonely path, Yudhishthira.

  “I know the memory of war still haunts you

  and that inclines you to be lenient

  toward your subjects. Yes, you can by all means

  cherish your people. But you should be
careful—

  kindness is not always the best policy.

  Kindness to one person may directly lead

  to suffering for another. Never think

  only of your personal inclination,

  but of how you are seen—of how the office

  of king is served, or not, by your decisions.

  The king’s every action will be assessed

  by the people, according to their lights.

  Be guided by the Vedas; royal justice

  should neither be too harsh nor too indulgent

  but should strike a balance between the two,

  moderate, as the sun is in the spring.

  In that way, you will earn respect and honor.

  “Brahmins will help you; seek out their advice.

  But you must be aware—not every brahmin

  is what he seems, or what he ought to be.

  Some may be deviant, seek to undermine

  your authority and harm the kingdom.

  Such men should not be physically chastised,

  but should be banished to some distant spot,

  cut off from the temptations of intrigue.

  A king should punish all, even his teachers,

  who work against his interests and act wrongly.

  “A king’s servants cannot be his friends.

  Do not allow familiarity,

  joking, and so on. They should never think

  it is their place to question your decisions

  or offer opinions. If they do, then soon

  they will be running things at court their way

  and boasting that the king seeks out their views.

  Then they’ll start stealing from the royal coffers,

  riding the king’s horses, wearing his clothes,

  resenting his orders—imagine where it ends!

  Clear boundaries make everyone contented.

  “A good king sustains the social order

  and he judiciously administers

  the public purse. He ought to recognize

  his people’s right to property, and should not

  high-handedly deprive them of it. That way

  they will respect him. A good king is steady,

  free from fits of anger or despair.

  He is self-disciplined, fair in his dealings.

  His people move in safety round his kingdom

  as children do within their father’s house.

  Protection is the principal advantage

  every subject looks for in their ruler.

  “If he is to carry out his duties

  the king has to survive, and that entails

  a sharp awareness of his enemies,

  both those who may surround him every day

  and those in other kingdoms with an interest

  in attacking his. While avoiding

  morbid distrustfulness, he should be watchful,

  astute; never underestimate

  the harm that can be done by hostile men.

  Even a weak ill-wisher can do damage,

  as a small fire can become an inferno.

  Think ahead, listen to your spies, store up

  provisions against hard times. Gain support

  among the people through your virtuous conduct.

  A kingdom is a complex entity;

  maintaining it will call for every shred

  of energy and judgment you can muster.”

  “Bravo! Bravo!” cried the assembled seers

  sitting around Bhishma. But Yudhishthira,

  as evening fell, was serious and sad.

  Early the next morning, Yudhishthira,

  after performing his prayers and ablutions,

  sat again at Bhishma’s side.

  “Grandfather,

  explain to me: how is it that one man,

  whose body is the same as other men’s,

  who is no more noble or accomplished

  than many others, who is born and dies

  as they do—how is it that this one man

  is called ‘king,’ and must protect the earth,

  is respected above other men

  and treated like a god?”

  Bhishma replied,

  “There was a time in the history of the earth

  when there were no kings, and no use of force

  or punishment; all people lived in peace

  with one another, honoring the law.

  But then greed arose, lust and anger,

  and people grabbed what did not belong to them,

  fought each other, and forgot morality.

  Their ritual obligations were neglected.

  All was chaos; the people were desperate,

  lacking any source of authority.

  “The gods hurried in distress to Brahma,

  lord of creatures. ‘Blessed one,’ they cried,

  ‘we are afraid. The natural reverence

  accorded us by humans has broken down.

  These days, they no longer honor us

  and we no longer shower them with favors.

  Our divine status, which derives from yours,

  is disappearing.’ Brahma thought long and hard

  and composed the Group of Three, the goals

  all men should follow to avert chaos:

  virtue, wealth and pleasure. And he specified

  a further, spiritual, goal: moksha—

  release from the ceaseless round of birth and death,

  merging the self with the absolute.

  “He composed a hundred thousand lessons

  addressing every aspect of earthly life.

  The gods were satisfied. They asked Vishnu

  to nominate a leader, one superior

  to other human beings, a person worthy

  to implement the teachings of Lord Brahma.

  After some setbacks, and with difficulty,

  the seers identified a virtuous man,

  respectful of the gods, and of brahmins,

  imbued with the spirit of Vishnu himself.

  His name was Prithu, and the seers were sure

  he would be attentive to the brahmins’ views,

  and enforce the law. They consecrated him.

  The populace welcomed him as their ruler.

  That was the origin of kingship. Soon

  order and prosperity returned,

  the earth flourished and men and gods were happy.

  “Of course, not every king since those distant days

  has defended virtue as he should.

  But the ideal is there; all recognize

  and love a worthy king when they see him,

  and without a king all would be chaos,

  evil would prevail throughout the land.”

  “What causes evil?” asked Yudhishthira.

  “Greed is the ultimate root of every evil.

  People who covet what they do not have

  are prone to anger, and become obsessed.

  They are mean-spirited, enslaved by wanting.

  Those who pile up wealth for its own sake

  are often ruthless and contemptuous,

  despising those less well off than themselves.

  Lust comes from greed. Dishonesty, ill will,

  envy, ruthlessness—every kind of sin

  starts with desiring more than one possesses.

  “Ignorance springs from the selfsame root.

  Greed spreads its branches and the mind grows dark,

  unable to judge clearly. Even the wise,

  skilled in offering advice to others,

  are rarely free, in their secret hearts,

  of craving, lust, jealousy, and longing

  for an existence free from every hardship.

  “Yes, greed is the worst vice. To escape its grip

  one must cultivate that self-control

  which is the scaffolding of every virtue.

  With self-control come patience, moderation,

  gentleness and generosity.


  Some people might take self-control for weakness

  but it is really tolerance, openness

  to all experience, a non-judgmental

  acceptance of all that life may send our way.

  A person does not need a forest ashram

  if they can exercise such self-control

  while engaged fully in the daily round.”

  Yudhishthira asked about the four classes

  in society, and about the four stages

  through which a man may pass during his life.

  Bhishma gave details of the many virtues

  that all four orders should pursue in common.

  He emphasized the close connectedness

  between the different classes, how they depend

  one on another; but how each has its own

  distinct dharma laid down for its members;

  and how the king must uphold the distinctions

  and not permit the blurring of boundaries.

  “As for a king,” said Bhishma, “his first duty

  is to his subjects, caring for their welfare

  like that of his children. If they are virtuous

  the king shares in the merit of his people.

  He must be generous, without self-seeking.

  He should worship the gods with sacrifices,

  but not officiate; recite the Vedas

  but not teach them. He should defend the land

  bravely against marauding enemies.

  To this end, he must acquire wealth

  and rule the kingdom on enlightened lines.

  He must use wisdom in choosing ministers

  and advisers. They must be honest, able

  and sincere, but the king should never

  trust them entirely, nor confide too much.

  “The key to all this is authority:

  the power to use the rod when necessary.

  A king should never act with cruelty

  but he must not hesitate to punish

  wrongdoers, in proportion to their crime.

  Without the use of proper punishment

  the kingdom will become demoralized,

  there will be mayhem, and the old and weak

  will become the helpless victims of the strong

  as, in nature, big fish gobble small ones.

  The king protects against the law of fishes.

  Judicious use of royal discipline

  ensures that every subject knows their place

  and knows the conduct suitable for them

  within the scheme of things. But if the king

  applies authority erratically,

  and only partially ensures fair treatment,

  then, correspondingly, there will develop

  all manner of ills—famine, epidemics

  and breakdown of the basic forms of life.

  “A king’s strength derives from a well-trained army