TWO
They trudged on through the dim jungle, as afternoon began to wear into dusk. At last, through the trees ahead they saw that the forest ended and beyond a stretch of fields, silhouetted against the sinking sun, was the city of Virata.
Yudhishtira said, "There it is, our destination."
Gently, Arjuna set Draupadi down. He asked, "Shall we enter the city now?"
Yudhishtira replied, "Can you imagine the attention we will draw if we go in together, carrying our weapons? Just the Gandiva would give us away and remember Duryodhana's spies must be everywhere. The quest for us will not be less than a war for our cousin. If we are found, we must spend another twelve years in the wilderness and that should certainly be the end of us."
"What shall we do then?"
"We must leave our weapons somewhere in this forest and come back for them at the end of the year."
Arjuna said, "I have been here before. If I remember correctly, there is a cremation-ground not far from here, a much feared place full of snakes and wild animals. No one will dare search it too closely, nor stay there a moment longer than they need to."
"Let us find the burning-ground."
It was not far. One pyre still smoldered among the trees and there were other dead bodies, unburnt, moldering. Arjuna pointed to a tree, a giant that grew at the very heart of the grove of death. "The sami would be an ideal hiding-place for our weapons."
"Our bows have jewels that might catch the light of the sun."
"We will wrap them in a sheet of hide, as if they were a corpse and tie them to a high branch. No one will climb a tree as tall as this to inspect a corpse."
The Pandavas made a bundle of their weapons. And they were a curious sight to see, those kshatriyas: their eyes full of tears as they gave up their bows and quivers, their swords and daggers and Bheema his mace. It was as if they were parting from their lovers! Arjuna tied the bundle up just in time.
Some men from a nearby village were passing that way, travelling to the city of Virata. They saw five splendid young strangers and an exquisite woman with them, crying as they made fast a corpse in its sheet. The giant among them was the most distressed and the eldest was consoling him as one would a child.
The villagers approached the Pandavas and one of them asked, "Whose corpse are you tying up, friends? Who have you lost, that you cry so bitterly?"
At which, Bheema turned on them, his eyes bleary and terrible and spoke in a voice that made the poor villagers quail. "It is our mother who died, who else? She was a hundred and eighty years old." He added threateningly, "And we want to be left in peace to hang her up."
The villagers knew only sorcerers and demons hang their dead from trees and when red-eyed Bheema took a step toward them, all seven bolted through the forest.
The Pandavas wrapped their weapons in the hide of a dead cow to protect them from wind, sun and rain. Yudhishtira himself climbed the sami and lashed the 'corpse' to the upper side of one of the thickest branches, so it could not be seen from the ground. When he climbed down again, he invoked the Goddess, the Devi.
"Mother Durga, I leave these weapons as precious as our lives in your care. At the end of our ajnatavasa, let them be returned only to Arjuna or to me. I worship you, Devi Bhagavati, hear me in the hour of my need."
A breeze stirred in the darkening forest. Unearthly fragrance filled the trees and a light grew lucid before the Pandavas. Within that luster was She, mounted on her mythic beast, the tiger. She was eight-armed, fabled weapons in every hand, beautiful past imagining. Her grace seemed to pervade the earth.
The Devi said, "No one will know you this next year and your ayudhas will be safe when you return."
"Bless us, Mother!" cried Yudhishtira fervently and Draupadi and the Pandavas prostrated themselves before her.
"You will rule the earth again, Yudhishtira and you will prosper. But why do ask that the weapons be returned only to Arjuna or yourself?"
"My brother Bheema is quick-tempered. He may decide to seek his own revenge against Dhritarashtra's sons, before the year is over. He may order Sahadeva or Nakula to fetch the weapons for him and they may feel they must obey him."
The Goddess laughed softly. She said, "So be it, then. Only Arjuna or Yudhishtira shall have these weapons back at the end of the year."
She blessed them and vanished.
Yudhishtira said, "Let us sleep in the forest tonight and from tomorrow, enter the city, separately."
They lay down on some thick grass. Bheema asked, "We must go separately? Does that mean we should seem not to know each other in Virata?"
"We shall be strangers, unless we happen to meet when no one else is about. And even then, we must be careful. Let us give ourselves some names to know each other by, if any messages have to be passed between us."
Yudhishtira said, "I will call myself Jaya. Bheema, what name will you have?"
Sleepily, the son of the wind said, "Jayesha."
Arjuna said, "I will be Vijaya."
Nakula said, "Jayatsena."
And Sahadeva, "Jayadbala."
At dawn, they bathed in the river, worshipped the Gods and hugged each other tearfully. Then, dressed as Kanka the brahmana, carrying his ivory1 dice in a square of plain cloth, wearing rudraksha and chanting Siva's many names, Yudhishtira set out toward Virata's city and the king's palace. The others must wait and follow him, one at a time, with some days' interval between them so no suspicions were aroused.
It was the public hour in the court of the aging Matsya king, when the brahmana stranger presented himself in his sabha and stood without bowing, his head held high. King Virata of the Matsyas was a little taken aback, not only at the brahmana's hauteur but his altogether noble appearance. It was a critical moment and Yudhishtira trembled a little.
Virata thought, 'Who is this? He stands before me as if he were the king and I his subject. He does not bow and yet, strangely, I don't feel offended. It is uncanny, but I feel he is my superior and I should rise and bow to him. He wears a brahmana's cloth, but his gait and bearing are those of a kshatriya. Look at him, like a tiger! As if he ruled all the world.'
Virata inclined his head to the brahmana to say he should approach the throne. The brahmana came forward a few steps and then, incredibly, Virata rose and went to him!
1. Ganguli says 'golden dice set with lapis lazuli.'
That king said, "I am honored you have come to my sabha, Brahmana. To my eyes, you seem more like a mighty kshatriya, but you are welcome in my city. Tell me, what can I do for you?"
Yudhishtira said, "I am Kanka, O king. I belong to the Vaiyaghra family. I am a master of dice and I once lived in the palace of Yudhishtira of Indraprastha. He and I were so close, my lord, that you might say I was his very soul and he mine. Alas, he lost everything he owned and went away to the forest.
I hear that you are as noble as Yudhishtira and hope to find solace in your company and sanctuary in your palace. I have no one I can call my own and today joy and sorrow are the same to me. I have no desires left, Virata, but I am tired of wandering. I have come to you seeking rest and peace. Shall I find refuge in your city?"
Deeply moved by the presence and dignity of the brahmana, the Matsya king said without hesitation, "You honor me that you choose to come to my house for refuge. I am as fond of the rolling dice as Yudhishtira was and I will be happy if you teach me every secret you know of the game. You say you are a master of dice and I am old enough to know that you are not a boastful man."
Virata turned to his amazed court and said loudly, "From this day, Kanka is as much king here as I am. All my wealth is his, to dispose as he chooses. He shall ride with me, sit beside me and rule even as I do. Let no man dare displease Kanka in this kingdom."
But Kanka, the brahmana, said, "My lord, you are too kind. I have no need for wealth. But may I be allowed to keep what I win at dice? As for the kingdom, I will advise you on the affairs of state, of which I have some little knowledge since I was as close to the emperor Yudhishtira as he was himself. As to other things, my lord, I have sworn an oath that I will eat only one meal a day, at night and that I will touch no leavings. Grant me so much and I will gladly stay with you.
Virata embraced Kanka in welcome.