TEN
Meanwhile, some days after Sanjaya left, Yudhishtira called another council in Upaplavya. He said to Krishna in that sabha, “You heard Dhritarashtra’s message, my Lord. My uncle does not intend to return my kingdom to me. The man who should be as a father to us is like a thief instead. I fear there will be war. How else do two kshatriyas resolve their enmity? Will you go to Hastinapura, Krishna? To sue, one last time, for peace.”
Krishna said quietly, “I will. And if I can achieve the impossible and make peace between the Pandavas and the Kauravas, why, my fame will live forever. No one shall be more pleased than I if the kings of the earth give up their hubris and save themselves from death.”
Yudhishtira had a second thought, “Duryodhana cannot be trusted, there is no telling what he may do. And if anything were to happen to you, Krishna…”
Krishna smiled. “Yes, they may try to harm me: Duryodhana, his brothers and their uncle Shakuni. Men like these will stoop to anything. And if they do, Yudhishtira, I will save you the trouble of a war. I will kill them all.”
He said this so simply and somehow no one doubted he would do as he said. Krishna continued, “Don’t fear for me, I am in no danger; though I feel sure my mission will be in vain. We all heard Dhritarashtra’s message; he does not want peace, perhaps because Duryodhana gives him no choice in the matter. Dhritarashtra is a coward, left to himself he would not fight; but his son would rather die than see you back on the throne of Indraprastha.
But you are a kshatriya, Yudhishtira. How can you ask for peace after you heard Dhritarashtra’s message? How can you still have feelings for these monsters? Or think of them as your relatives? They have never requited the love you have for them. They are not your blood, who treat you with such hatred and contempt. A kshatriya has no kinsmen, Yudhishtira, only friends and enemies. These are your enemies. Not for a moment have they thought of you as a nephew or a cousin, not the elders of Hastinapura. I say they deserve death for what they have done.
The court of Hastinapura is a nest of serpents. It needs to be burned with fire. In that city today you have just the hollow name of Kuru; the rest is an illusion. The one you so fondly call your grandfather, Bheeshma, won’t he be the first to face you in war? What Pitama is he to you? He will fight for Duryodhana.”
Krishna saw the sadness in his cousin’s face and he shook his head and sighed. “Ah, Yudhishtira, I can’t fathom you. What weakness or strength makes you reach out again to these sinners with an offer of peace? For myself, I will tell you why I am going to Hastinapura. It is not that I believe there is any possibility of peace. No. I am going to tell the people of that city and the kings who have allied themselves to Duryodhana, about you. I want the world to realize how noble you are and how vile Duryo-dhana and his blind father.
Let the people know that you will accept peace, if they give you even five towns. Let them know how arrogant Duryodhana is that he will not give you even these. I am going to Hastinapura so the truth may be preserved in the hearts of common men. Dhritarashtra and Duryodhana will never tell their people the truth of what happened between the Kauravas and the Pandavas. Already the blind one seeks to make a villain of you with the message he sent through Sanjaya.
While I am away, cousin, prepare for war. And let war begin as soon as I return.”
Yudhishtira bent his head and said, “I leave our lives in your hands, Krishna. You always know what is best for us.”
“I see omens of war everywhere I turn. The birds of night are awake all day, as if in terror and those of day sing at midnight. Wolves come out of their forests and howl at the cities of men. Elephants and horses run from jungle to jungle, in strange panic, as if seeking a sanctuary that exists nowhere on earth any more. Let us not deceive ourselves. There will surely be war and we must be prepared for it.”
There was a brief silence, while every king in that sabha was so absorbed in his own thoughts that no one noticed Bheema squirming in his place. Suddenly, the son of the wind said, “Krishna, I will be happy if you can make peace between the Pandavas and the Kauravas. We do not want the sin of killing our cousins on our conscience. Don’t try and frighten Duryodhana by saying how powerful we are. He is proud and obstinate; he will not be intimidated. But gentler persuasion may succeed.
I agree with Yudhishtira that we must do everything in our power to have peace. Otherwise, a hundred kings will die, thousands of kshatriyas and countless common soldiers. Think of their wives and children; war is a calamity that we must avert if we possibly can. Arjuna, I am sure you understand what I mean and you agree with me.”
All that council, especially Bheema’s brothers, stared at him in amazement. Then, Krishna began to laugh, golden laughter ringing through the morning. He cried, “Bheema! Are you really saying this? You want peace? Until last night, we heard of nothing but the war from you, how long you had waited for it. You told us how you would tear out Dusasana’s heart and smash Duryodhana’s thigh. You said you had not slept properly these last thirteen years, for the shame you had to swallow. Some of us have seen you wriggling like an angry serpent in Yudhishtira’s grasp. We have seen you sit apart from your brothers in the jungle, as if you carried an insupportable burden.
I heard people say that Bheema had gone mad in his frustration. You sat alone, smoldering like a fire covered with ashes, your brow knit, talking to yourself, your hands sweating as you clenched and unclenched them. Then you would jump up with a growl, pull up a tree, dash it on the ground and begin to cry and laugh at once. You would shout, ‘The lotus may bloom on the peak of ice, the sun may rise in the west; but I will keep my vow. I will break Duryodhana’s thigh where he dared call Panchali to sit!’
You would brandish your mace and roar so the forest echoed with your wrath. Is this the same Bheema, who is faint-hearted as a woman today at the very thought of war? Who begs me to go and sue the Kauravas for peace, because he balks at the thought of blood? Ah, Bheema, you are the raft on which your brothers will cross over the sea of misfortune. But if you turn coward, I dread to think what will become of the others.”
Krishna saw his words went home. He saw Bheema’s eyes become red as plums at the word coward. It was as Krishna intended; it would never do if Bheema became soft at this time.
The Dark One continued, “Think back, Bheema! Remember the shame of the game of dice; remember the long anguish of exile. Remember you are a kshatriya and the men you have sworn to kill are sinners. Put aside this womanliness; harden your heart against these affections.
Peace! You talk of peace, you whom peace does not suit at all. You are a kshatriya, Bheema, every fiber of you. What peace can be yours, until you kill them all? What has happened to you that you are afraid now?”
Bheema sprang up and cried, “You wrong me, Krishna! How can you accuse me of being a coward? When the war begins you will see if Bheema is afraid. Not Indra himself will save Duryodhana and his brothers, when these hands lay hold of them. Look at my hands, Krishna! Aren’t they made just for war? Look at this body!”
He was trembling. “Wild elephants shall not stand before Bheema when he takes the field with his mace! I only pitied those who would face me in battle, their families whom I will bereave. And you call me a coward?” He smote his chest and roared, so the sabha shook. “Bheema is no coward, Krishna! Never! Never!”
Krishna took his hand. “That is the Bheema we know! This is no time for softness. We are on the brink of war and you are the greatest force we have, our strongest warrior. More than on any of the others, we rely on you. If you turn to fine feelings now, what will become of the rest? Who doesn’t know that Bheema is no coward, but the bravest kshatriya on earth? I only said what I did because I want Bheema to be himself.”
He embraced his cousin. “Never fear, there will be a war. No one will stop it and you will have your revenge. I swear you will wash your shame and your anger in streams of blood. Don’t speak of peace any more. There will be no peace, but war!”
Bheema gave a growl of satisfaction and sat down. Now, Krishna turned to the third Pandava and Arjuna said, “I agree with you, Krishna. Duryodhana will never accept peace. He has gone too far down the way of sin. I feel we should not compromise Yudhishtira’s dignity while suing for peace.”
Then he smiled. “But, finally, only what you want will come to pass, my Lord. All this is just your maya! If you are determined there shall be peace between us cousins, then peace there will be; and even Duryodhana will do what you ask. But if you decide there should be war and the earth’s burden removed—as the rishis say you have—so it shall be. Whatever it is, we will walk the path you choose for us, happily.”
Krishna laughed. “Arjuna, I wish it were as simple as that. I will do my best to convince Duryodhana that we should have peace, not war; and I will not bargain with Yudhishtira’s dignity. But there is no other miracle I can work. Like you, I fear Duryodhana has gone too far down the way of evil to turn back willingly. He is hardly master of himself or his own fate, any more. He is an instrument of other sinister forces; they will not relent, even if Duryodhana wants to. But I will go to Hastinapura to clear Yudhishtira’s name with the people, because he is the noblest man alive.”
Krishna turned to Nakula, who said in his soft voice, “The thoughts of men are like the shapes of clouds in the sky, always changing. When we were in the jungle, or on our tirtha-yatra, we did not think much of a kingdom. When we first came to Virata for the ajnatavasa, we thought only of not being recognized and of our exile’s end. Now the thirteen years are over and we are thinking of nothing but the kingdom, how we can win it back.
Krishna, I think we should sue for peace. Speak gently to Duryodhana at first; if he does not listen, use strong words, threaten him. Tell him about the kshatriyas who are with us. Duryodhana is just a man, like any other; he can be frightened into accepting peace on our terms. And when you are the messenger, Krishna, there is nothing that cannot be achieved.”
Krishna smiled and did not have time to turn to Sahadeva, before the youngest Pandava sprang up and cried, “We must have war, Krishna! You must make certain we do. Let the Kauravas beg for peace, if they like; but we must have war and only war, with them! What else can we want after what they did to Panchali in their sabha? How can we think of peace for even a moment? I don’t agree with my brothers. If Yudhishtira, Bheema, Arjuna and Nakula want peace, let them make shameful peace with those animals. I mean to fight, if I have to fight alone and to see Duryodhana dead. Tell him from me, Krishna, that Sahadeva says he will die.
If my brothers decide that virtue lies in seeking peace with Duryodhana, let them keep such virtue for themselves. I will fight and kill that devil!”
Satyaki jumped up and cried, “I am with you, Sahadeva! We shall have no peace with the Kauravas. Death is what Duryodhana deserves and death he shall find. Krishna, you saw these Pandavas in the forest, wearing valkala, like beggars. How can you make peace with the men who reduced them to that? The Kauravas must die, every one of them!”
The sabha resounded with the approval of the kings in it. Suddenly, Krishna turned his face to where the most beautiful woman on earth sat. Krishna asked gently, “Panchali, what have you to say?
Her lovely eyes were full of tears and she rose without wiping them, so they fell down her face. Draupadi said fiercely, “I bless Sahadeva and Satyaki! Who, it seems, are the only kshatriyas in this sabha. Krishna, you know everything that happened. I beg you, if you care at all for my honor, use no soft words with Duryodhana. Gentleness wins only good men, not fiends of hell. Hastinapura is a nest of demons; it must burn!
I wonder that you can even ask me what I have to say. I want war, Krishna, a bloody war to avenge what I suffered on that terrible day and for thirteen years after. I want every Kaurava killed. The elders who sat by, not lifting a finger to help me when I begged them to, I want to see them dead! I know Yudhishtira was always for peace, at whatever cost to himself and his family. But when I hear Bheema, Arjuna and Nakula talking of peace today, I can hardly stand it. I want neither peace nor friendship with the Kauravas. If you love me at all, Krishna, if you ever felt sorry for what happened to me, make sure there is war between the Pandavas and the Kauravas. I must see my enemies lying dead on the field, as carrion for jackals and vultures.”
She lost control of herself. Convulsed with sobs, she took her hair, hanging behind her like a dark serpent and brandished it at that court. “I have not tied my hair since the day Dusasana dragged me by it! Look at my hair, all you kings. I carry it like a stain on my very soul, that the beast defiled it with his filthy hands.
In the forest, Yudhishtira said to me that I must be patient for thirteen years. I have waited thirteen years and only I know how long the wait has been. And now what do I hear from Yudhishtira? Not a word of war or revenge, but again words of peace. And today I am amazed to hear Bheema talking of peace! Duryodhana was not mistaken when he called these cowards. How lofty it is to talk peace. But who will bring peace to my heart?
For thirteen years, every night I was awake thinking of just one thing: the day I would see Dusasana’s jeweled hand cut off and lying on the ground streaming blood. I will have no rest until I see that sight before my eyes. Krishna, think of me when you are in Hastinapura. For it was I who was dragged like a whore through the palace there, I who was shamed in front of all the Kuru sabha. And I say to you, there is a fire burning in my heart and the only cure for it is war. I beg you, Krishna, don’t come back from that evil city without declaring war!”
And she stood trembling, while her tears flowed. Krishna said to her, “As you cry today, Panchali, I swear the wives of the Kauravas shall weep very soon. But there will be no cure for their tears, because they will have lost everything. Not one Kaurava shall live. I have not forgotten what I promised you in the Kamyaka vana. I have come into the world for this war.” His voice was wistful, “The earth must be rid of her burden of kings and so she shall. Dry you eyes, Panchali, let me see you smile. The thirteen years of exile are over. I promise you, Yudhishtira will be lord of the earth again.”
Draupadi wiped her tears and smiled wanly at Krishna. He said, “It is decided then, I will leave for Hastinapura tomorrow.”
Thus, the second council at Upaplavya ended.
The next morning dawned, bright and auspicious and Krishna was up early. The Dark One bathed. He worshipped the sun and the fire and then called Satyaki.
“Prepare my chariot, Satyaki. See to it yourself that my weapons are in it. Duryodhana and his brothers are not to be trusted and I must not let them find me unprepared.”
Now Yudhishtira came there and said, “Satyaki, you must go with Krishna. I am reluctant to send him at all on this pointless mission and I will not let him go alone.”
The chariot was ready and all the Pandavas came to see Krishna and Satyaki on their way. Yudhishtira’s last words to him were, “Give our mother our love and tell her we shall soon be with her.”
Krishna embraced them all and, cheerful as ever, set out for the Kuru capital.