FIFTY-FOUR
Messengers rode before the Pandavas to Hastinapura; and when they arrived, the city was waiting for them, agog! The people had labored for three days to deck the city of elephants out for her princes' homecoming. The street-corners were adorned with festive arches; garlands of every bloom of the season hung everywhere in a riot of colors. The streets had been swept and washed, sprinkled all along the princes' way with scented water and strewn with rose petals. Incense hung in the air.
The people had turned out in crowds. They thronged the city-gates where they had seen the Pandavas off to Varanasi and the sky resounded with their joy. They had hardly slept all night, but sat around fires they lit to keep warm.
Came dawn, full of bird-song: a crystal morning. An hour before noon, a shout swelled from the crowd beyond the gates and those who stood high on the battlements, a cry that was taken up from the city-limits to the doors of the king's palace.
"The Pandavas are here!"
Trumpets and conches blared and a roll of drums crackled like spring thunder on the ramparts and down in the streets. The people joined in with firecrackers, five-, ten- and a hundred-thousand of them strung together and heady songs and frenzied dance. Fate had not betrayed them, after all: their princes of light had returned from the dead to fulfil their destiny.
A wave of clapping and cheering arose when the Pandavas rode into view, with Krishna and Vidura, Kunti and Draupadi; a wave that broke into the subtle vaults of the sky.
"Yudhishtira will sit on the throne of Hastinapura!"
"He will rule us like his own children."
"Pandu has come back from the dead, to rule as his son."
A sea of hands reaching out in love to touch them, as the five kshatriyas alighted from their chariots and walked through the triumphal archway over the gates. Taking the dust of the road, the princes marked their foreheads with it as if with holy ash. The crowd surged around them, shouting all their names, Vidura's and Kunti's; and Krishna's, as well, when they knew who he was. Most of all, they cried out the name of the princess Draupadi. They cried that they would have her climb down from her palanquin and see the face of their future queen.
Vidura tried to quieten them and Bheema began to glower at those who shouted loudest. Then, she stepped out of her covered litter and at once all the noise subsided. A sigh went up from the crowd; never had they seen anything to remotely rival her dark beauty. The old people in the crowd came forward and blessed her. They said that, surely, she was lovely enough to be their princes' wife!
"Let the Pandavas and their queen be with us for a hundred years!" cried someone and a roar went up from the rest.
Two of Dhritarashtra's milder sons, Vikarna and Chitrasena and Drona and Kripa met the Pandavas at the gates. The princes embraced their cousins formally; perhaps curious if these two had conspired to burn the lacquer palace. They turned to their gurus and prostrated themselves at their feet. Drona and Kripa had tears in their eyes.
In a royal train, with the people of Hastinapura beside themselves on both sides of the road, Pandu's sons were led to their uncle's palace. Dhritarashtra stood at the towering main door, with Bheeshma at his side. The princes touched their feet: Bheeshma their grandsire's with devotion and the king's, wondering what went on in his heart. Krishna stood by quietly, with a ready smile for anyone who greeted him.
Duryodhana's wife, a princess of Kasi once, came out to receive Kunti and Draupadi. She had with her the wives of some of the other Kauravas and they all touched Kunti's feet, then, led both the women in to Gandhari's palace next to the king's. Tall, very regal, her eyes bound with dark silk, Gandhari was waiting to meet them. She rose and reached out graceful arms to find them. She embraced Kunti and when Draupadi knelt at her feet, she raised up the young bride by her delicate shoulders and embraced her as well.
Gandhari, the bhakta, had the gift of prescience since she had bound her eyes. The queen shivered when she clasped Draupadi to her, as if a cold fire licked her heart. As clearly as if it had already happened, she knew: 'This woman will be the death of my sons.'
Gandhari blessed Kunti and Draupadi and gave instructions for them to be taken to Pandu's old palace where they would stay.
The Pandavas came into their father's house to rest after their journey from Kampilya. When he was alone with his cousins, Krishna said, "I will wager anything the blind king will not give you a fair inheritance. His words are warm, but his heart is cold."
After the noon meal, Dhritarashtra summoned another council in his court. Krishna went with his cousins to this sabha. Once more, the Kuru elders were all present. Bheeshma, Drona, Vidura and Kripa were there, as well as the others that were influential in the kingdom and Duryodhana, his brothers and Karna. When the Pandavas had been welcomed ceremonially, the king began what he had to say.
"Yudhishtira, the Kuru kingdom is what it is today only because of your father's campaigns." A murmur of approval rose from the sabha. "We hear to our sorrow that there is some dissension between yourself and our own son, the yuvaraja Duryodhana. Everyone here knows what anguish this causes me. But I have decided to make a clean end to it."
He paused, then sighed, "It seems this ancient kingdom must be divided. So be it, for we shall be just. Yudhishtira, I hereby give you half the Kuru kingdom to rule. Duryodhana will have to wait for his inheritance, since I am still king in Hastinapura. From now on, all the lands of Khandavaprastha, which of old was the capital of the Kurus, Pururavas, Nahusha and Yayati's capital, shall be yours. Restore it and rule from there. Not a foot of land more or less shall there be between your kingdom and the one that remains with me. I hope this satisfies you. Tell me what you feel, you and your cousin Krishna."
Dhritarashtra turned his face to where the Pandavas sat. Krishna glanced at his cousins and a sardonic smile lit his dark face. He said nothing yet. None of the Kuru elders, all of whom obviously supported Dhritarashtra's plan, dared look at Krishna: not Bheeshma or Drona. Only Vidura did.
Yudhishtira rose from his place and crossed to the king on his throne. Taking his uncle's hand, he said, "I have always done your bidding. I see no reason to change that now. We will go gladly to Khandavaprastha."
A smile dawned on Dhritarashtra's face also. "Vidura, my brother, let no time be lost. Ah, I am a happy man today that I will see my Pandu's son become a king. A heavy burden has been lifted from my heart, let the city prepare for the coronation!"
Still avoiding Krishna's mocking eyes, Bheeshma and Drona said, "Let it be so."
Yudhishtira turned to Krishna. "Krishna won't you say something?"
Dryly, Krishna said, "We understand your eagerness, my lord Dhritarashtra, better than you think perhaps. We are all keen to see Yudhishtira become a king. So let no time be lost."
Just then, the kshatriyas at the back of the sabha rose, for a revered figure had entered. Vyasa was among them once more. He strode in, crying, "I have come to name an auspicious day on which my grandson may be crowned!"
On the day Vyasa chose, Yudhishtira was crowned with deep and solemn ceremony. As he stood dripping with the waters of the abhisheka, Bheeshma and Drona, Kripa, Dhaumya, Vyasa and Krishna blessed the new king.
"May you conquer the earth!"
"With the Rajasuya and Aswamedha!"
"May your life be a long and glorious one!"
"Rule the kingdom as wisely as your fathers!"
"May your fame spread through the world like the scent of flowers on the wind!"
There were such celebrations in the streets of Hastina; the feasting and drinking began while the sun was at his zenith and went on until dawn, with singing and dancing by torchlight in the festive night. Only Duryodhana seethed and those loyal to him—his brothers, Shakuni, Karna and some others. Perhaps, it was to pacify his son that Dhritarashtra called Yudhishtira to him the day after the coronation.
Embracing his nephew in cold arms, the king said, "You are now the lord of Khandavaprastha. Go to your kingdom and restore the old city. Begin your rule, O king. Bless you, my son, may your life be a long and joyful one."
Yudhishtira knew that he was being sent away quickly for fear that the people may demand he rule from Hastinapura. Already, there had been some shouting to that effect after the coronation. He also knew that Khandava was a desolation ever since the rishis of the once lush jungle there had cursed Budha's mercurial son Pururavas. Nothing grew in Khandava except thorns. No birds or beasts lived in that wasteland; it was as arid as a tract of hell.
However, for just one reason Yudhishtira was hopeful: Krishna was with him. Each day in the Dark One's company was a miracle. The Pandava felt certain there was nothing his cousin could not do if he chose. Yudhishtira would have gone anywhere at all, if Krishna went with him. He would have gone to the ends of the earth and beyond. He believed there was no place in swarga, bhumi or patala, of which his blue cousin was not the master.
Besides, Yudhishtira was most of all a man of peace. He would avoid a confrontation as long as he possibly could. He knew that staying on in Hastinapura would eventually lead to a conflict with the Kauravas. He was not afraid; but he hated the thought of bloodshed and would prevent it at any cost. He knew he was, in fact, being banished into a desert. He preferred that to war with the sons of Dhritarashtra.
Taking leave of their friends in the city of Hastinapura, taking leave of their elders and their gurus, of their cousins and their uncle the king, the Pandavas set out for Khandavaprastha, with Kunti and Draupadi, Krishna and Balarama. Droves of the common people came to the gates of Hastinapura, with all their possessions packed and ready to go off into the wilderness with the princes they adored.
Yudhishtira said to them, "My friends, it is a wild and uncertain land to which we are going. Let us first establish ourselves there and we will send for you. Meanwhile, live in peace in your homes."
There were those who wouldn't listen to him and these, some hundred families, set out with the Pandavas, preferring the desolation they had heard about by now to the false comfort of Dhritarashtra's city. Their hardy leader cried to Yudhishtira, "You are our king now and we will go with you. We will come back to Hastinapura only when you return to rule from here as you should."
Fortunately, not everyone was as adventurous. Otherwise, most of Hastinapura would have emptied itself to follow the Pandavas into the wilderness. As it is, most of the people remained behind, swearing they would go to Khandavaprastha the day they had news that it was at all habitable.