TEN
They have carried him back to the camp, but when he wakes from his faint Yudhishtira sits on the ground, holding his head and sobbing. He wails, “I sent the child to his death. I killed him. He said, ‘I can break into the vyuha, but not out of it. I am afraid I may be trapped inside.’ And without thinking I replied, ‘We will all follow you in. Once you make the breach, we will smash the vyuha.’ I sent Abhimanyu to his death. With my child gone, what will I do with a kingdom, or even a throne in heaven? What will I do living?”
Bheema stands there, crying silently, too shocked to speak.
In a while, Yudhishtira says, “Drona and Kripa, Karna and Aswatthama, Duryodhana and Shalya could not contain him. So the cowards killed him with treachery, or my heroic child would have finished them all today!” He turns to the others, “I beg you, one of you kill me before Arjuna comes back and asks, ‘Yudhishtira, why did you send my son to his death?’ How will I face him? How will I tell him? How will I tell Subhadra and Krishna?”
He faints again. In his swoon, Vyasa comes to his grandson and says to him, ‘Though he was just a boy, Abhimanyu died like a kshatriya. He has found heaven for himself. All that are born will surely die and you must not let your grief consume you. The war remains to be fought and won and you must keep courage.1’
Yudhishtira awakes, somewhat consoled. But he thinks, “What will I say to Arjuna?”
Arjuna is turning home from his encounter with the Samsaptakas. After a day’s battle, Susharma had been routed, his brothers all killed and most of his army as well. The sun sets and Krishna turns his chariot back from the field. Suddenly, Arjuna touches his sarathy’s shoulder and whispers, “Look at the omens, they are all evil. My body trembles, my heart beats wildly and I am full of fear. I hope Yudhishtira is safe.”
Krishna replies, “No evil has befallen Yudhishtira; for none can. Put away your fear, Arjuna and rejoice that Susharma has no men left with whom to challenge you. Tomorrow, you can fight beside your brothers again.”
As they arrive in the Pandava camp, terrible anxiety rears its head again in Arjuna, like a serpent. Silence rules the camp. Arjuna asks frantically, “What is this dreadful quiet? No vinas are playing and the men slink away as if they want to avoid me. Where are my brothers? Where are my sons, who come to greet me every evening? Where is Abhimanyu today? He is the first to run up, with his smile and embrace me. Something awful has happened. Krishna, terror grips my soul!”
They climb down from the chariot and come to Yudhishtira’s tent. Walking in, they see all the others sitting there, stricken. Arjuna stares at Yudhishtira. His brother does not raise his face, only wipes the tears that flow incessantly from his eyes. Bheema makes to rise when Arjuna enters. But he falls back with an anguished moan, as if his legs cannot support him, or his tongue utter the words that his lips try to form. Nakula sits very still, gazing at the floor. Sahadeva stares out fixedly through the tent-flap and does not meet his brother’s eye. Draupadi’s sons are there, but they also turn their faces away.
No lamps burn in that tent. Night occupies it entirely, as it does the hearts of those within. Dread grips Arjuna in a vice. He asks, “Where is Abhimanyu? My son is the first to receive me every evening. Why are you all so quiet? Say something!”
Only Yudhishtira’s sobs break the silence. Arjuna dare not think the unthinkable thought that licks at him like a flame. He breathes, “I hear Drona formed the chakra vyuha today. You didn’t send my child into it, did you?”
Only silence answers him. Slowly, he continues, speaking to himself, “None of you knew how to enter the chakra vyuha, only my son. I taught him. But I hadn’t time to show him how to come out of it.” He stops, a horrible certainty dawning on him. He whispers again, “Yudhishtira, did you send Abhimanyu into the chakra vyuha?”
Yudhishtira gets up and puts his arms around Arjuna. “Don’t say another word, just kill me. Then ask the others your questions, of why and how, because I have no answers to them. Kill me, my brother, I killed your son.” Yudhishtira is beside himself. “You must avenge your son’s death now, you must kill me! Kill me Arjuna, kill me! I killed Abhimanyu, I swear it is true, I killed your son!”
Arjuna falls as if he has been cut down with a sword. Even Krishna sits abruptly on the floor, his eyes filling. Then he sees Bheema beside him, devastated. He takes Bheema’s hand in compassion and the son of the wind falls sobbing into his arms. Yudhishtira stands turned to stone.
Arjuna wakes with scented water sprinkled on his face. He sits up and cries, “How did it happen? Tell me everything! How could he die? Couldn’t all the Pandavas and Panchalas together protect him? He knew he could not come out of the chakra vyuha. He must have told you that I had only taught him how to break in. He knew he would die if he was caught inside the wheel of death. He knew it is a trap. Ah, my son!” He faints again.
Then, waking once more, “Oh, Abhimanyu, you were the flower of chivalry. You would never begin a duel, even against your worst enemy. You always waited for the first arrow to be shot at you. How could the Gods allow this? How will Arjuna live when Abhimanyu is dead? Who had the heart to kill my beautiful boy?”
And he is wracked with sobs. Abruptly, he turns on Yudhishtira, “How could you let him go alone into the chakra vyuha? You were there, Yudhishtira. Bheema and Sahadeva, Nakula, Dhrishtadyumna and Satyaki were there. How did you let him go in alone, when you knew he could not come out? How did you, Yudhishtira? Answer me!”
There is no answer. Arjuna cries again, “But who actually killed Abhimanyu? There is no one in the Kaurava army that could match my child. He was a greater kshatriya than them all. Tell me, who killed my prince? Surely, there was some treachery! Ah, my son, they must have surrounded you and shot you down like a dog. I see your sweet face all bloody, as you lie on Kurukshetra as meat for jackals and vultures. How will I face your mothers? How will I break this news to Subhadra and Drau-padi? How will I face his wife, the child Uttaraa?”
He staggers to his feet, flings his quiver and bow from him. He cannot bear the violence of this sorrow and faints again. Once more, they revive him with scented water and salts. Now, Krishna takes Arjuna’s hand and speaks to him gently, “You mustn’t grieve like this. Your son died a hero’s death. He gave his life that many others may live and in peace. In his sixteen years, Abhimanyu achieved what the greatest kshatriyas hardly do in a lifetime. Those whom the Gods love very much, they call back quickly to themselves. Abhimanyu is in Devaloka now, with his grandfather Indra. But your brothers are here around you, Arjuna. Look at them. Are you blind that you don’t see the guilt that savages them? Are you made of stone that you cannot see how they suffer? Instead, you indulge your own sorrow and make their burden insupportable. Abhimanyu was not only your son. He was the child of us all and we hardly loved him less than you did.”
With a moan, Arjuna runs to embrace Bheema, who breaks down completely, like a child himself. Arjuna falls at Yudhishtira’s feet, crying, “Forgive me! Oh, forgive the harsh things I said to you! I beg you, forgive me, my brothers.”
Yudhishtira embraces Arjuna and their tears flow together. Nakula and Sahadeva come forward to clasp their brother, then, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi and Satyaki, all crying as if each one had lost his own son.
In a while, Arjuna says, “Tell me now, what happened? I am calm enough to hear everything. Satyaki, tell me. Dhrishtadyumna, my friend, tell me the name of the man who killed my child. Yudhishtira, my brother, tell me.”
A storm of tears takes him again and he says, “My heart is made of stone, that it doesn’t break in a thousand pieces when my child is dead! I am a devil that I still live, when my Abhimanyu is gone.”
Yudhishtira takes Arjuna’s hand and makes him sit beside him. “I will tell you, Arjuna. I will tell you everything that led to the death of the jewel of our line. Early in the day, Susharma lured you away from the main battle and the Acharya formed his chakra vyuha. The fighting began and we could not stand against them at all. The chakra wheeled round and from every part of it, arrows flew out at our men. We tried to break the vyuha, all of us together, Bheema and I, Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, Sahadeva and Nakula. But Drona stood at its rim and held us off.
Our legions were being shredded. If the chakra was not breached the war would end by evening and all our men would be dead. Arjuna, thousands of our soldiers died each moment and we were not able to kill more than a handful of theirs. In despair I called Abhimanyu and said to him, ‘Among us only you know how to breach the chakra. We must break in, Abhimanyu, or the war is lost.’
He said, ‘My father taught me how to break into the chakra vyuha, but I don’t know how to come out again.
Yudhishtira cannot go on and, in a whisper, Bheema takes up the story. “He did tell us he could not come out of the vyuha once he had broken in. But we said to him, ‘We will be at your heels, Abhimanyu. Just make the first break and we will smash the vyuha.’
All of us stood before him, Yudhishtira and I, Nakula and Sahadeva, Dhrishtadyumna, Shikhandi, Satyaki, Drupada, Virata, the Kekayas, his brothers and many more. How could he doubt what we said, or refuse to do as we asked, when our men were dying like flies? I will never forget the light that was upon him. Joyfully, he said he would make the breach. He climbed into his chariot and rode at the vyuha. He fought like a Deva; no, he fought more magnificently than any Deva: he fought like Abhimanyu! And the vyuha parted for him like a woman, while Drona stood helpless.” Tears fill Bheema’s eyes again and he says hoarsely, “How will I ever forget how I saw him last? Just as he was storming into the chakra, he turned in his chariot and gave us all such a smile. Arjuna, that smile will haunt me for the rest of my wretched life!”
Bheema breaks down again and Arjuna takes his brother in his arms and comforts him. Yudhishtira takes up the tale. “We were no more than half a chariot length behind him, so he had room to maneuver. All of us were ready to fly into the vyuha after him. We saw him split the chakra, we saw him flash past the Acharya. We saw him turn and smile and, Arjuna, after he had entered, the chakra was still open! There was a gap in it wide as two chariots. We rode at the opening, Bheema in front, I just behind him and then the others. But suddenly, Jayadratha loomed in our path.”
“Jayadratha? And how many with him?”
Yudhishtira bends his head. He says in a whisper, “Only he.”
“Jayadratha held you all up, alone?”
“He fought like a hundred Jayadrathas.”
Arjuna looks around in disbelief. Bheema and the others nod their heads. Krishna says quietly, “He worshipped Siva for a boon and this was it: that, one day, he would hold up all the Pandavas by himself, as long as Arjuna was not with them. That was his revenge for what you did to him in the forest.”
Yudhishtira resumes, “Jayadratha held us up, as if Siva himself fought from his body. And before we knew it, a thousand men had filled the gap in the chakra vyuha. The vyuha was sealed again, but now with our child inside. For hours, we heard the screams within, as he burned them. They could not hold him at all; he killed ten thousand men. He did not die alone, he killed Duryodhana’s boy Lakshmana.”
Arjuna gasps. Sahadeva says, “He killed Brihadbala.”
Yudhishtira says, “He fought them long, like a tiger a pack of dogs.” He chokes again, “But in the end, they killed him.”
Arjuna cries, “But how did they kill my son? Who killed him?”
Sahadeva comes near and takes his hand. Quietly he says, “My brother, listen to the vilest crime committed on Kurukshetra. Six maharathikas surrounded him: Karna, Kripa, Drona, Aswatthama, Kritavarman and Dusasana’s son. He fought like a God and routed them all. Then, I heard Karna went to Acharya Drona and asked him how Abhimanyu could be killed; or the war would be lost by dusk, because our child would have razed their army. Drona told Karna that as long as he had his bow in his hand, Abhimanyu’s armor was impenetrable. Our precious Acharya told Karna that the only way to kill our prince was to break his bow from behind, like a thief.
Twice Abhimanyu had beaten Karna off, wounding him sorely. So now the dastard crept behind our child, severed his bowstring and then broke his bow. The six surrounded him again. Drona killed his horses, Kripa his guards and his sarathy. And when he was defenseless, they shot him with a hundred arrows, until he was bathed in blood. He fought on and we watched some of it and heard the rest. We were helpless, because we still could not break into the chakra vyuha.
He killed a legion of elephants, though by now he was gravely wounded. When he staggered on his feet, Dusasana’s boy leapt down from his chariot and they fought with maces. They struck each other down. Our child was exhausted and Dusasana’s boy rose before he did. He struck Abhimanyu a last blow on his head and your son died. There was no shame in his death, Arjuna, except for those who killed him.” He hangs his head, “And for all of us who sent him to his death.” Sahadeva, also, breaks down and cries.
They watch Arjuna’s eyes turn red. He rises softly and stands before them trembling. In terrible quiet, he says, “I swear I will kill Jayadratha tomorrow. Let the Kauravas guard him with every man they have, let Siva himself come to protect him; Jayadratha will not live. If I don’t kill him tomorrow, let all the punya I have leak away from me and let me find the worst hell of all for myself. I swear by this sacred agni and by this Gandiva, that if I don’t kill Jayadratha tomorrow, I will make a pyre for myself and walk into it with my bow in my hand.”
Arjuna picks up the Gandiva and pulls on its string, so the night resounds with that noise. Krishna raises the Panchajanya to his lips and blows a blast on it like the thunder of the pralaya. Even the Devas in their loka hear that sound; and with it, hope courses again through the Pandava camp. Arjuna has mastered his grief and turned it to wrath. There would be a great hunt tomorrow.
Bheema jumps up and hugs Arjuna. “I am so proud of you! I know you will keep your oath. They must have heard this sound across the field and they may have died of fright!”
Grief turns to a searing hunger for revenge. The Pandavas leave for their own tents, to try to sleep what remains of the night. When they are alone, though, Abhimanyu’s bright face comes to haunt them: how he turned and smiled at them just before he broke into the chakra vyuha.
Hardly a man, common soldier or kshatriya, sleeps, for sorrow that Abhimanyu, splendid prince, is dead. And a new anxiety tugs at their hearts in the small hours: for Arjuna’s hot oath; it would not be easy to kill Jayadratha. Kaurava spies would already have carried word back to Duryodhana and every man of the Kaurava army would be detailed to guard Jayadratha tomorrow. For if Arjuna did not kill him before the sun set, the Pandava must immolate himself to honor his solemn word. What easier way could there be of killing the invincible Arjuna, than keeping Jayadratha alive until the sun set?
A million men, lying sleepless in their beds, mourning in the night for dead Abhimanyu, pray fervently that the Gods would deliver Jayadratha into Arjuna’s hands tomorrow.