“Undoubtedly,” added Susurman, the Trigartan King. “Very wisely spoken.”
Duryodhana then detailed the course of action. They would form two columns, one to attack the Matsyas* first, and the other to attack their cows and seize them later. The two objectives would be achieved in the interval of twenty-four hours.
Susurman was given the special privilege of leading the attack on the capital of the Matsyas. He took the King prisoner, and carried him off in his chariot. At this, Bhima went after a tree to pluck its roots and sweep off the enemy. But Yudhistira cautioned him, “If you go on bearing a tree in your hand, everyone will know who you are and then we will have to remain exiled for another period of twelve years. Take a bow and arrow and fight unrecognized.”
Bhima obeyed him. Carrying a bow, an unusual weapon, in his hand, he went after Susurman, rescued his patron and friend Virata, and also brought the other King captive. In the process of capturing Susurman, Bhima had handled him with such fury that the King presented a sorry spectacle.
Yudhistira said, “Set him free, to go back….” After advising Susurman not to again engage himself in such adventures, he escorted him back to the safety of his own camp.
Meanwhile, another column rounded up thousands of Virata’s cattle and drove them off. Since the Virata King, Yudhistira, and Bhima were still away on the other front where Susurman had attacked, this news was brought by the panic-stricken cowherds to Prince Uttara, who spent all his time in the women’s quarters but always bragged about his military prowess.
He thundered, “How dare they? I will recover every bit of the herd. Bring me my mail coat and arms, everyone….” He hustled and pranced about in great rage. “Just watch what I do. I must rush in there and fight, only give me a proper charioteer capable of piloting the vehicle through the thick of the battle. When they see me fight, they should think that Arjuna the Pandava is in action—I have too often been mistaken for him in various campaigns. But alas, I am sadly handicapped now because I lost my brilliant charioteer in a recent campaign in which I had to be fighting twenty nights and days continuously. If I have a charioteer, I will rush like a mad elephant into the midst of those weaklings, the Kauravas, and it will be only a moment’s work for me to capture the whole lot of them—Duryodhana, Drona, Kripa, or anyone else who may be participating in this cattle-snatching adventure. I am not frightened of names. I will have every one of them chained behind my chariot and bring them in a run….” This was a very stimulating promise for the cowherds, but Uttara hardly made any move in the direction of the fighting field. He went on fulminating against the Kauravas, whom he called sneaks and weaklings who could be warriors only where weak opponents faced them.
All his challenging, aggressive statements were overheard by Arjuna, who was also in the women’s quarters, and he persuaded Draupadi to suggest to the Prince, “Brihannala is a good charioteer. He used to drive Arjuna’s chariot and helped him in many an expedition, including the famous destruction of Khandava Vana, that forest which Arjuna destroyed to please Agni, the God of Fire.”
Brihannala was immediately sent for, and the Prince received him with great condescension. “I learn that you are a good driver of chariots. Come, get the chariots ready and come with me. Soon I must get the cattle back and teach those thieves in the guise of kshatriyas a lesson that they will remember all their life.”
Arjuna replied modestly, “I am, after all, a singer and dancer and a teacher of women. How can I ever steer a chariot through a battlefield?”
The Prince said, “Sairandhari and my sister both speak well of you, and I trust them. Either you are modest or trying to shirk. No time to waste. Come on. Get ready for the battle. That is my order. Don’t talk back. Battle dress now, that is my order.” Saying this, he donned a shining coat of mail and bristled with a variety of arms, commanding Arjuna also to dress himself appropriately for the martial occasion. Arjuna made many blunders while putting on his armour and mail coat, pretending that he did not know which was the right side of each item, all of which made the girls watching him burst into peals of laughter.
After all these pleasantries, they started for the battlefield, while the women presented them flowers and lit and circled incense in front of the chariot to wish them success in their expedition. “Don’t forget to bring us souvenirs of the battle,” they said.
All along the way, Uttara admonished Arjuna and advised him on how he should conduct himself in war. As the horses galloped, Uttara commended his charioteer’s ability. “No wonder Arjuna could fight anywhere with a driver like you. Well, we will soon return to the capital with those Kauravas in chains and all the cattle freed. I am sure my father will have a surprise indeed, when he comes back from his campaign and finds the kind of prisoners I have brought him.” Thus talking they were soon within sight of the Kaurava army, arrayed on the boundary line.
At the sight of the serried ranks as far as the eye could reach, Uttara began to waver. “Brihannala, don’t drive so fast, pull up for a little while: We have to think a little at this moment. Wait, wait… I see Karna and Duryodhana and the whole lot of them there… I never expected all of them would turn up like this… We must reconsider our position at once….” Arjuna did not slacken his reins but, heedless of the young man’s orders, drove his steeds faster, wheres-upon the young Prince became somewhat desperate. “Don’t you hear me?”
Arjuna said, “Don’t be disheartened yet. Once I set the pace I can never slacken. Let us see. Let us rush into their midst, and you will see how they scatter….”
The Prince began to wail. “See the hair bristling up on my arms, don’t you notice it? It means that I am not well. I cannot go out and fight in this condition. Let us go back. I need some medicine to set me right. I have forgotten to bring it along with me.”
“You ordered me to take you to the Kauravas; I won’t rest until I do so….”
“Oh, impossible… driver, listen to me… ”
“No, nothing to argue about now. Fight we must… ”
“Oh, listen. My father has taken the entire army with him to fight the Trigartas, leaving me alone in the city. He had no thought for me. If only he had left a few men to assist me… ”
“Do not be anxious. Why do you already look pale and shaken? You have not yet begun to fight. You ordered ‘take me to the Kauravas.’ I have to fulfil your command. I can do nothing less. I am prepared to fight to the death to recover the cows; or for any purpose. You showed off before the women so impressively. Now if we return without the cows they will laugh at us. I will fight, since Sairandhari expects me to attain glory. You keep still if you cannot fight.”
Uttara became quite desperate. “Let them rob us of our country, if they like. I would not care. Let the women laugh at me. I don’t care. Let all those accursed cows perish. I don’t care. Let our city become a desert. It will not matter. Let my father think the worst of me, and call me a coward and what not. What if he calls me names?” Saying this, Uttara jumped off the chariot, flung away his arms, and began to run in the opposite direction.
Arjuna stopped the chariot, ran after the fleeing Prince, and pulled him back. “Don’t run away. You drive the chariot and I will do the fighting. Don’t be afraid. Now climb up that tree and fetch the bundle you will find in it.”
“The tree is grown on impure ground. How can one of royal family set foot in a graveyard? And that thing dangling there looks like a corpse. No kshatriya can ever pollute himself by approaching a corpse.”
“It is not a corpse,” said Arjuna, “but only a sack done up to look like one so that people may not go near it. The sack contains all the weapons of the Pandava brothers. You must go up and bring it down.”
The Prince had no choice but to climb the tree. When he came back with the sack, Arjuna untied the ropes and took out the weapons while Uttara watched, letting out many cries of admiration. Arjuna took out his Gandiva, his own bow, and explained, “This is the largest and greatest weapon, equal to one hundred
thousand weapons, capable of adding kingdoms to its owner and devastating armies single-handed. With this Arjuna achieved his victories. It was a weapon worshipped by the gods. Shiva held it for a thousand years, and then, one by one, all the gods, and finally Arjuna got it from Agni. No mightier weapon was ever known.” And then he explained the nature and origin of all the other weapons—scimitars, bows and arrows, and swords—which were used with special competence by each one of his brothers.
Uttara was overwhelmed by the spectacle before him and could not help asking, “Where are those eminent warriors? I had heard that they lost everything and became wanderers. Why, with these weapons they could have conquered the world!”
“They will,” said Arjuna firmly. “And this Gandiva will soon come out of its cover.”
“Where is the wielder of Gandiva?” asked the young man.
“Here,” declared Arjuna, and explained who the others were.
Uttara was thrilled and cried, “My cowardice is gone. I can now fight the celestials themselves. Let me have the honour of driving your chariot; I will steer the horses like Indra’s own charioteer, Matali.”
Arjuna tied up his hair and put on his shoulder plates and wristlet, and all the war paraphernalia. Uttara was aghast at the transformation that occurred in the other’s personality, and felt so reassured that he said again and again, “Now I will dash through any army at your command.”
In spite of this brave statement, when Arjuna blew on his conch, he began to shake with fear and collapsed on the floor of the carriage. He was unable to hold the reins because his hands trembled. Arjuna explained, “When my conch is blown, its sound always makes my enemies tremble, but you are no enemy, be calm….”
“It is no ordinary sound, sir. The earth seems to shake, the trees sway as in a storm, and the birds in the air, whether it be an eagle circling high or a sparrow, collapse on their wings.”
“Get up, get up,” said Arjuna. “You will be all right. I will drive the horses, you just hold on firmly. I am blowing on the conch again….”
The sounding of the conch shook Uttara again, but he rallied himself and soon took charge of the horses. Arjuna had hoisted his own banner on the chariot in place of the Prince’s. When the banner, a divine gift from Agni, decorated with a likeness of the monkey-god, Hanuman, was hoisted, different types of supernatural beings took their seats on the chariot, uttering war cries, all of which reached the enemies’ ears.
Drona was the first to say, “That conch is surely Arjuna’s. He is here. We must be ready to face him now.”
Duryodhana replied, “The terms were that they should spend the thirteenth year undiscovered. The thirteenth year is still running, which means they must be exiled for another twelve years. Whether it is due to their miscalculation or ours, it is up to our grandsire, Bhishma, to tell us. We did not come here to spy on them, but for a different purpose—only to carry off the cattle of the Matsya King, and to support Susurman, who may be joining our columns any minute now, bringing Virata in chains. We need not waste time in speculation; fighting is our only course. We have come prepared for it.”
As usual, Karna supported his view, and revelled in visions of taking Arjuna single-handed. But Aswathama, Drona’s son, sneered at Karna and Duryodhana, remarking, “I am not prepared to fight Arjuna now. No need to. After all, they have kept their pledge, and what reason have we now to fight them?” He turned to Karna and Duryodhana. “Once again, unless you employ your crafty uncle to perform a mean trick, you will have no chance against Arjuna or his brothers.”
While they discussed all aspects of the question, Bhishma suggested that instead of anyone fighting or facing Arjuna, the six of them should stand together and attack him. All agreed that Duryodhana should not be exposed to this risk, and they urged him to leave the field and go back to Hastinapura.
Arjuna watched closely every movement of his cousins across the field, and the massing of their forces, and directed his charioteer to steer his way to each group. He observed the movement of Duryodhana particularly and decided to corner him.
Since Yudhistira was not there to restrain him, Arjuna was in the flush of freedom, freedom to reveal himself and act as he pleased, and to follow his inclination to rush and fight and try out all the astras he had recently acquired. Drona had been his master. He launched several arrows which brushed past Drona’s ears and several others which fell at his feet. This pleased the master. “The arrows at my ears were to convey Arjuna’s salutations and the arrows at my feet are his homage. This is the language of arrows. How great an archer he has turned out to be!”
Arjuna said, “I will not shoot unless Drona himself shoots first,” and when he took his chariot close to him, Drona attacked him, and a well-matched, sophisticated fight ensued. Drona admired Arjuna’s tactics. He matched astra for astra and Arjuna was able to attack and counter-attack with such grace that the gods gathered above to watch the fight. It was exciting, academic, and free from hatred or malice. Kripa, Bhishma, and Drona loved Arjuna but still had to participate in the battle out of a sense of duty towards Duryodhana. Their encounters with Arjuna had the appearance of a demonstration of the art of war, a friendly bout. But not so the encounter with Karna.
“You have boasted all your life of how great you are. Now prove it in action,” cried Arjuna. Reminding himself of Karna’s savagery towards Draupadi at the gambling hall, he mauled Karna, who withdrew in a bloody state.
Next, Arjuna noticed Duryodhana slipping away, and suddenly veered round to block the route of his escape. Duryodhana’s supporters surrounded him protectively, as he had swooned. At this, one of Arjuna’s mystic astras put everyone in the field in a coma, whereupon Arjuna ordered Uttara to take the glittering clothes off every person, leaving them with a minimum of covering, and carried the booty off as souvenirs for the girls in the Virata palace.
Arjuna felt happy that he could thus, to some extent, redress the indignity perpetrated on Draupadi that fateful day. “The war has ended, and the cattle have been recovered,” Arjuna announced, and started back for the capital.
Arjuna returned to the banyan tree at the graveyard, and put away the weapons again. Hoisting Uttara’s ensign back on the chariot, he advised him, “Let the messengers go in advance and announce our victory. Don’t reveal who we are; it may disturb the King. Let the messengers announce that you have fought and won.”
On receiving the news of victory, the King became jubilant. “My son has been victorious over the cream of the Kauravas; single-handed he has fought them.” He ordered public celebrations, but Yudhistira went on interrupting him with the statement, “Yes, yes, of course, if Brihannala was his charioteer, nothing but success could be expected.” The King was so thrilled by his son’s achievement that he did not like Yudhistira’s comments.
There was public jubilation, and festivities at the palace. Crowds lined the roads to receive the hero of the day—Uttara. While awaiting his arrival anxiously and proudly, Virata thought of whiling away his time by playing dice with Yudhistira, who resisted the idea. He was in no mood for the game, but Virata compelled him with all his authority, and they played. The King continued to praise the valour of his son, while Yudhistira praised his charioteer. Finally, this annoyed the King so much that he flung a dice piece at Yudhistira’s head, and blood began to flow from the cut. Yudhistira stanched it with a cloth and Draupadi immediately placed a vessel below the wound to prevent the blood from dropping to the ground.*
Meanwhile Uttara had returned and, noticing the blood, asked, “Who has done this?”
“I did,” replied the King. “I wanted to teach this fellow a lesson for his obstinacy….”
Uttara was aghast. Although he could not yet reveal Kanka’s identity, he scolded his father. “You have done a grievous wrong, the brahmin’s curse will shrivel you up.”
Virata at once apologised to Yudhistira and ministered to his wound.
Yudhistira said, “O King, I understand. Those who are in authorit
y naturally act with unreasonable severity when they are angry. However, I bear no grudge for what you have done. I have already forgotten it.”
The King now turned to his son to ask for details of his encounters with warriors of the stature of Drona, Karna, and Duryodhana. Uttara explained, “I did nothing; it has all been accomplished by the son of a deity….” And he went on to describe how various figures collapsed on the battleground.
The King asked, “Where is that son of God?”
“He vanished immediately after the war, but may appear again tomorrow or the day after.”
11 Warning Shots
ON THE THIRD DAY after the battle, Virata was shocked when he entered the assembly hall. On the seats meant for the kings were seated Yudhistira and his brothers: the courtier, cook, eunuch, and cattle and horse keepers, dressed in costly robes and wearing jewellery. Outraged at this impropriety, he ordered them all to get up and leave. Then Yudhistira announced himself and his brothers.
Virata was so overcome that he offered his wealth, cattle, and the entire kingdom to Yudhistira as a recompense for having treated them as servants. He then proposed his daughter Uttarai (Uttara was the prince) to Arjuna, but he replied, “I have been moving closely with her for a whole year in the women’s chambers, and I view her as a daughter. I would rather accept her as a daughter-in-law, married to my son Abhimanyu,* who will be a worthy husband for her.”
The Mahabharata Page 11