BOOK FOURTEEN
AUM, I bow down to Narayana, the most exalted Nara and to the Devi Saraswathi and say Jaya!
ONE
In Hastinapura, the Pandava takes up the reins of the chariot of the kingdom. Guilt still haunts him. He blames himself for the war and all the death it brought. Krishna, Vyasa and Narada pacify him. They speak to him at length and at least he has the everyday serenity to discharge his dharma as king. Dhritarashtra spends hours talking to his nephew and Vidura comforts him as well.
Now, that the war is over, Krishna and Arjuna take to spending their time with each other, as they used to in the old days. They go back to Indraprastha and rediscover the places where they first grew close. They wander the gardens of the city and spend hours, alone together, in the Mayaa sabha. They range the forest around Indraprastha, hunting, speaking of everything under the sun, of the war and, especially, the events that led to it1.
It hardly seems a few days since they were last here, but in fact fifteen years have gone by. They ride out to the Khandava vana that they helped Agni burn. It was there that they first met Mayaa. The thread of time shimmers clear, its silver strands. Krishna asked Mayaa to build a sabha for Yudh-ishtira; and then the tide of fate swept them along, helplessly. Perhaps, it began even before that: when dark Panchali entered their lives. That was the very day Krishna first met his cousins, the Pan-davas.
They were given a wilderness for their patrimony and the Avatara raised Indraprastha in the desolation. Narada came and told Yudhishtira that Pandu was unhappy in Yama’s halls. The Rajasuya followed and stoked Duryodhana’s envy. Krishna killed Sishupala and everything else had come like a flash flood: the game of dice, Dusasana dragging Draupadi into the Kuru sabha, the swearing of the oaths of revenge and then exile.
Arjuna remembers how he went to Dwaraka to ask for Krishna’s help. Duryodhana had been there, that day. Arjuna chose Krishna for his sarathy and that sealed the fate of the Kauravas. Then, the war to end all wars. Finally, Yudhishtira sat on the throne to which he was born.
One day, Krishna says to Arjuna, “The war is won, your enemies are dead and Yudhishtira sits where he belongs, on the throne of Hastinapura. I have served my purpose, Arjuna and I must return to Dwaraka. I have not seen my mother and father and they must be anxious. I haven’t the courage to ask Yudhishtira if I can leave. I beg you, ask him for me, Arjuna. If he agrees, I will go; if he says I must stay, I shall. What Yudhishtira wants is more important to me than what I want myself. But tell him I said he has his brothers with him to help him rule, he has the wise Vidura at his side. Arjuna, you must also let me go now.”
Before he has finished, he sees tears in Arjuna’s eyes. Krishna takes his cousin’s hand. The Pandava can hardly bear to think of parting from his sarathy. The eighteen days of the war had been the most wonderful days of his life. Krishna had been with him every moment! Fear and triumph they had shared, sorrow and courage. During the war, they had been like one person: two bodies, but one spirit. Arjuna thinks he would not mind reliving his life, every day of it, just to be as near Krishna as he had during the war.
Arjuna cries, “You have served your purpose! How can you say that to me?”
Krishna smiles. “I only meant the war, Pandava. I know you need me still and I need you. I can hardly live without you, my friend. Don’t you understand? You and I are not apart from each other. Half Krishna’s soul is Arjuna!”
For the first time, Krishna tells Arjuna about the anxious night he spent before the day Jayadratha died. He tells him how he told Daruka to keep his chariot ready, because he would kill Jayadratha himself if Arjuna could not. Arjuna cries again to hear him. He clasps Krishna to him and they sit thus, in silence, for a long time. Then, softly, the Pandava says, “I will let you go back to Dwaraka, but only if you promise to return to us soon.”
“How will I stay away for long?” replies Krishna.
The next day the two of them ride back to Hastinapura. They spend that evening with Dhritarashtra and Yudhishtira. In the morning, Arjuna and Krishna come to Yudhishtira’s apartment. They sit chatting pleasantly of this and that, though Yudhishtira’s face continues to show signs of a deep grief.
After a while, Arjuna says, “Krishna feels he must return to Dwaraka. He says his father will be waiting for him.”
Sighing, Yudhishtira says, “Of course you must go back to see your father and mother. But oh, my Lord, how will we live without you?” Krishna only smiles. Yudhishtira wipes his tears, then, says, “Very well, I will let you go. But on one condition: that you come to me in Hastinapura, just as you used to in Indraprastha, as soon as I think of you. Whenever I needed you, Krishna, you always came. Let that never change. Go now; go home to Vasudeva and Devaki. They must long to see you. So much has happened in our world since you were last with them.”
Krishna says, “I will be here whenever you need me, that will never change. One war has ended, Yudhishtira, but another, greater one is just beginning. You still have the war against yourself to win.”
The Avatara takes leave of his cousins. Satyaki bids the Pandavas farewell; after embracing his friend, Bheema stands in a daze, staring dully ahead of him. After everything they have been through together, at death’s very gates, parting is hard indeed. Krishna prostrates himself before Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, Kunti, Vidura, Yudhishtira and Bheema. He takes tender leave of Draupadi, Nakula and Sahadeva. Finally, he embraces Arjuna, quickly, then turns away and climbs into his chariot. Daruka flicks his reins over his horses and Krishna and Satyaki set out for home. The Pandavas stand gazing after the white chariot long after it has vanished from view.
When they have driven some way, Krishna lays a hand on his sarathy’s shoulder, “Come, Daruka, now fly!”
The horses flash across the ground, then rise steeply into the air and go the way of the wind: home to mysterious Dwaraka, jewel in the sea.