TWENTY-TWO
Satyaki, scourge of the Kaurava army, arrives at the front in blazing style. Dusasana surrounds him with a legion, but Satyaki brushes him aside, killing another thousand men, while siddhas, charanas and pannagas applaud in the sky1. He bursts through Dusasana’s force and rides toward his master.
Krishna says to Arjuna, “Here comes your sishya. He has burned his way through two vyuhas: Satyaki of the incredible exploit!”
Arjuna is not pleased. “I left him to guard Yudhishtira like his life and he has left my brother’s side.”
“Can’t you think why he has come? Yudhishtira must be anxious and has sent him to find us. Whatever the reason, I am glad to see Satyaki and Bheema.”
“Look, Krishna!” cries Arjuna. “Bhoorisravas rides at Satyaki and Satyaki is exhausted.”
Bhoorisravas reaches Satyaki and Arjuna says, “How quickly the sun sinks and Jayadratha still lives. Bhoorisravas has just begun to fight and he is fresh. Now I have Satyaki to protect; Yudhishtira should never have sent him out so late.”
They who still dare give battle to Arjuna; he kills those who come in his way, easily as breathing. Meanwhile, Bhoorisravas cries, “I have waited so long for this moment, Satyaki! You won’t escape with your life today.”
Satyaki roars back, “You are like an autumn cloud, Bhoorisravas, full of thunder but never bringing rain. Fight me not with threats, but arrows if you dare!”
Vasudeva’s father, Soora, had a cousin called Sini, who was a fine kshatriya. When Kamsa was king in Mathura he held a swayamvara for his cousin Devaki. Sini burst into that swayamvara and carried Devaki away for Vasudeva, who loved her. A Kuru king called Somadatta, who had eyes for Devaki himself, challenged Sini. Before all the other kings, Sini defeated Somadatta. Heady with victory, he caught the Kuru by his hair, dragged him down into the mud and holding a sword to his throat, planted a foot on his chest. Somadatta never forgot that humiliation. He performed a tapasya to Siva, for a son who would, one day, avenge the insult. Bhoorisravas was born Somadatta’s son and Satyaki as Sini’s grandson.
The Yadava and the Kuru duel. Bhoorisravas is a bhakta and a kshatriya and he has hardly fought today. This was exactly as Drona intended: if Arjuna broke through the two vyuhas, he must face a handful of maharathikas, who had rested all day, before he reached Jayadratha. It was to save Arjuna some of that effort, that Krishna had summoned Satyaki and Bheema.
Bhoorisravas kills Satyaki’s horses with an astra that sets them alight, roasting them. As he leaps from his chariot, the Yadava kills the Kuru’s horses with four shafts that find their hearts. Bhoorisravas also leaps out of his ratha. Swords out in a flash, in the grip of an older contention than this war, they charge each other. Blade rings against blade, showering sparks over both kshatriyas. They circle one another and thrust out wildly. They hew and parry, they growl, they roar, they weave and dodge. They leap high in the air and strike mighty blows down on each other. With every moment, it is clear that Satyaki tires quickly; inevitably, Bhoorisravas gains the advantage. Satyaki staggers under his blows and has neither the strength nor the speed to answer them any more. It is all the Yadava can do to keep the Kuru from killing him. Still, he does not run, but fights on.
Krishna turns to Arjuna. “Satyaki is so tired he can hardly stand. Bhoorisravas will kill him if you don’t intervene.”
Even as he speaks, Bhoorisravas fells Satyaki with a tremendous stroke, knocking the Yadava’s blade from his hand, sending him sprawling on his back. With a roar, Bhoorisravas is on him, crying, “The moment of revenge is here, Yadava! This is what your grandfather did to my father.”
Bhoorisravas seizes Satyaki by his hair, plants a foot squarely on the fallen warrior’s chest and roars his triumph; and Satyaki goes limp. Even the Kaurava soldiers cry out in shock at the shaming of a fallen enemy. But, his eyes glinting, Bhoorisravas drags the young Yadava round and round the space where they had fought, roaring, “Today, my father is avenged!”
Krishna cries to Arjuna, “Look what that wretch is doing to my cousin! Satyaki didn’t follow you through two armies to be humiliated like this.”
Arjuna replies, “Bhoorisravas is honorable. He is only having revenge for what happened to his father. He will not kill Satyaki.”
The words hardly leave his mouth and they see Bhoorisravas draw his sword again. They see him raise his arm to hew off Satyaki’s head. Arjuna cries, “What shall I do, Krishna?”
“To kill an unconscious enemy isn’t the kshatriya dharma by which we agreed to fight this war,” says the Avatara.
Between the raising of Bhoorisravas’ arm and its fall, Arjuna cuts off that sword-arm with an arrow like lightning. The look on Bhoorisravas’ face is unforgettable. He stares at the blood spouting at his elbow and his severed arm which lies on the ground at his feet, the sword still clutched in its hand. Bhoorisravas whirls around with an agonal cry and sees Arjuna behind him.
“Arjuna!” wails Bhoorisravas. “What have you done? Is this dharma? You have covered yourself in shame, Pandava. You have brought disgrace to the House of Kuru! Your wretched sarathy made you do this, only a Yadava could stoop so low.”
But Arjuna rages back at him, “You dare speak ill of Krishna! Do you think I am heartless that I will let you kill Satyaki when he cannot defend himself? He is not only my friend who risks his life for me, he is my sishya. Bhoorisravas, when Sini shamed him, your father was not in the state in which Satyaki is. I could have had your head instead of your arm and I would not sin.”
Bhoorisravas stands before him, uncowed, blood gushing from his wound. Arjuna rails on, “Dare you speak to me of dharma? You stood by when the six maharathikas shot Abhimanyu down like a dog, when my child stood defenseless before them. Was that the dharma you preach? Or is dharma just for someone else, while you and yours are above it? Did you say a word to your dastardly nephews, when they murdered my son?”
Bhoorisravas has no answer to this. He hangs his head. Next moment, Arjuna is overcome with remorse and cries, “Ah, my lord, how I hate myself that I was born a kshatriya! That I had to do this terrible thing to one of the noblest sons of the House of Kuru. But I curse Duryodhana more than I do myself: all this is his doing.”
Arjuna has tears in his eyes. Now, Bhoorisravas raises his good hand over his head, to acknowledge what the Pandava says. He orders a seat of kusa grass spread for himself on the battlefield beside his chariot. He sits on it in padmasana, the posture of the lotus. Bhoorisravas shuts his eyes, yokes himself in dhyana and prepares to die. The blood flowing from his elbow forms a pool on the field of dharma.
The Kaurava army has gathered around Bhoorisravas, in a hush. Every soldier’s gaze is upon him. They watch the color drain from his face and slowly the pain, as the swell of the atman, his soul, washes over the kshatriya. Just then, Satyaki stirs from his faint. He seizes up his sword and rushes at Bhoorisravas, who by now is unaware of the world. Kaurava soldiers cry out in horror. Arjuna and Krishna cry at Satyaki to stop. But he is at the motionless Bhoorisravas in a blink. With a roar, Satyaki strikes off the Kuru’s head so it flies from his neck in a scarlet eruption.
The Yadava stands panting beside Bhoorisravas’ corpse, his eyes aflame, daring anyone to challenge him.