TWELVE
Past midnight, Krishna lies awake in his bed. He gets up and sends for Daruka. He makes the sarathy sit beside him. Krishna takes Daruka’s hand and says, “You have heard about Arjuna’s impetuous oath. So has Duryodhana and he plans to guard Jayadratha like his own life. Drona will form three vyuhas and keep Jayadratha at the eye of the third, protected by their maharathikas. If Arjuna doesn’t kill Jayadratha before the sun sets tomorrow, he must take his own life.”
Daruka sits listening. Krishna goes on, “I know what a kshatriya Arjuna is. But it will be harder to pass Drona and the others tomorrow than it was to kill the Nivatakavachas. Then, it is dakshinayana and the sun will set early. I am afraid for Arjuna. There are sinister powers, greater than we know, which watch over Duryodhana’s destiny. They will bend their will to keep Jayadratha safe and have Arjuna’s life cheaply.”
The sarathy has never seen his master’s black eyes so anxious. “Daruka, you know how much I love Arjuna. Why, I love him more than I do anyone in the world, more than my queens or my sons. He is part of me as no one else is. If Arjuna were to die tomorrow, I would follow him into the fire.”
A flicker of alarm in Daruka’s eyes; he has not heard Krishna speak like this before. He remembers something he had heard from the lips of mystic rishis and wise old men: Arjuna and Krishna were born on the same day; they are Nara Narayana. The Dark One lowers his voice, “And if we both die, Daruka, how will the others resist the evil that wants to sweep everything before it? I have sworn I will not fight in this war. But I will perjure myself and break my vow so Arjuna may keep his.”
He glances around, for the night has ears. Drawing the sarathy nearer, Krishna whispers, “You must do something for me, old friend. Prepare my own chariot tonight for war. Arm it with all my weapons; put the Saringa in it and my quiver, the Kaumodaki and my Shakti. Tie on the Garuda banner, but don’t unfurl it yet. Cover Valahaka, Saibya, Meghapushpa and Sugriva in their armor and yoke them. You also don mail and wait at the edge of the field.
If you hear me blow a rishabha on the Panchajanya, fly to me, Daruka. I will kill Karna, Duryodhana and the rest. I will loose the Sudarashana at them and we will see how their fine vyuhas stand before my Chakra. Be ready from dawn, Daruka, listen for the rishabha on my conch.”
Daruka says, “I will do as you say, my Lord. But when you are his sarathy, how will Arjuna not keep his vow? How will Jayadratha not die before the sun sets tomorrow?”
Krishna smiles, “It will do no harm to be prepared.”
“Your chariot and weapons will be ready. So shall I.”
The sarathy bows and leaves. With a sigh, and somewhat relieved, Krishna lies down on his bed; with a prayer for Abhimanyu, he falls asleep. In another tent, Arjuna also lies in his bed and he is full of disquiet. But he is tired after the harrowing day and drifts off into a troubled slumber.
Arjuna dreams and Krishna appears in his dream. The Dark One says to him, ‘You must not grieve like this; you will only strengthen your enemies. Anxiety is a sickness, Arjuna; it saps you. I am with you, my friend, fear nothing.’
Arjuna answers him, ‘Will I be able to kill Jayadratha before the sun sets tomorrow? If I cannot, the world will mock me and I must take my own life.’
Krishna grows thoughtful. ‘Do you remember Indrakila, O Pandava? You sat on that mountain in tapasya to have a weapon from Mahadeva. Do you remember how Siva came to you as a vetala? You fought the Lord, Arjuna and he was so pleased with your warrior’s worship he gave you his Paasu-patastra. You must use the Paasupata against Jayadratha and he will not live.’
‘But where is that astra, Krishna?’
‘Come, sit with me in dhyana,’ says Krishna.
In the dream, Arjuna purifies himself; touching holy water, he sits before the Avatara. He shuts his eyes and feels Krishna’s grace upon him. Krishna says, ‘Meditate on the Lord Siva.’
In dhyana, Arjuna feels himself leave his body. Krishna is beside him and holds the Pandava’s hand. Together they fly through a cerulean sky, swift and straight as two arrows. They fly north, cleaving the wind. It is a lucid dream and Arjuna sees everything that lies below him. Across the Himalaya, range of a hundred peaks, they flit and still they flash on, always north. They pass Hima-van and fly over a vast tableland, dotted with crystal lakes. On they fly, until they see the most pristine lake of all: the Manasarovara.
Beyond the lambent waters of the Manasa, a lone mountain looms, its peak rounded like a full moon, or a gigantic pearl. This is Kailasa, most sacred of mountains, anointed with opalescent snow. Krishna and Arjuna fly closer to the mountain like a vision. Suddenly, its higher slopes turn blinding, as if a hundred suns have risen upon it. Siva sits on a white ridge, ineffable Uma at his side and they swathe Kailasa with their light.
Krishna and Arjuna fly down to Siva’s feet. They prostrate themselves before the God of Gods. They eulogize him with the Satarudriya, his thousand names. Siva smiles. Laying his hand on their heads, he blesses them. He says in his voice deeper than the sky, ‘Tell me what boon you have come for, Nara Narayana.’
Arjuna says, ‘Lord, I have come for the Paasupatastra.’
Even as he speaks, Arjuna is startled to see the offerings he made earlier that night to Krishna laid at Siva’s feet! Serene Mahadeva says, ‘My bow and the astra I once loosed at the Tripura lie below the lake of amrita. Seek them out, Arjuna and bring them to me.’
Krishna and Arjuna find themselves flying north again, now with a host of Sivaganas around them. The ganas bring them to the banks of a velvet lake, like a sea before them. They stand on its shore, the dark waters glimmering as far as their eyes see and a spray of nectar flying in their faces. Suddenly, a sibilant hissing fills that place and, with a powerful swirling, the waters part. Two immense serpents, scintillating jewels in their hoods, raise themselves high into the air before Krishna and Arjuna. They are thousand-headed snakes and flames spew from their jaws. Krishna begins to worship Siva aloud with the Maharudriya; Arjuna quickly does the same. At once, the fiery nagas grow quiescent. As the chanting continues, they are transformed into two shining weapons: a golden bow and a silver arrow float out to the two warriors. Kneeling on sands like petal dust, Krishna and Arjuna receive those ayudhas.
With that bow and arrow, Arjuna and Krishna and the Sivaganas with them, fly back to Kailasa. They come to Siva again and offer the weapons to him. He smiles at them and an unearthly light issues from his body. From it, a wild brahmachari stands forth, his eyes fire, his hair falling to his waist in a shimmering blue and black cascade. Bowing to Siva, the apparition picks up the ancient weapons. He shows Arjuna the only way that bow, older than the world, can be strung. He shows him how the arrow is fitted to it and the string is drawn back. Arjuna masters the art of it instantly, as no other archer could.
As he pulls back the bowstring, Arjuna hears Siva’s voice, deep in his mind, intoning the mantra for the Paasupatastra, which begins by invoking Ganapathy, the Lord’s elephant-headed son, master of his host of ganas. The mantra fills every cell in Arjuna’s body. In a moment, he knows it perfectly. Now, the brahmachari takes those weapons back from the Pandava and, with a cry, from where he stands he casts them back into the distant lake. Becoming fierce serpents again, they submerge below dark ripples and are gone. But Arjuna feels the lake and the weapons within himself still; and he knows the astra will return to him, whenever he needs it.
The brahmachari vanishes. Krishna and Arjuna prostrate themselves once more at holy Siva’s feet. As he blesses them, Arjuna sees him again as he did in the forest near Indrakila: as the vetala! All his anxiety swept from him in a wave of joy, Arjuna touches the Lord’s feet and flies back to Kurukshetra with Krishna beside him.
Arjuna emerges from dhyana, but Krishna has vanished from his dream. Other dreams flow into the Pandava’s sleep and bear him away on tranquil currents.