THIRTY-ONE
At first, Duryodhana will not believe the news that streaks across Kurukshetra. The cry ‘Drona is dead!’ echoes everywhere and Kaurava soldiers run headlong from the field. Dropping their weapons, some peeling off their armor in terror, they fly on foot, on horseback and in their chariots. Even Karna, Shalya and Kripa flee.
When Duryodhana realizes the news is no empty rumor, his howl rings across the field, dismally. Again and again, he cries out his grief, his abysmal defeat; he cries out as if Dhrishtadyumna has hacked another limb from his body. Drona was the Kaurava’s great hope and hope had flared up when he saw how his master incinerated the Pandava army. He had been convinced the war would end before dusk and victory would be his. But now…ah, how could a man who fought so luminously just moments ago, have laid down his bow and allowed Dhrishtadyumna to lop off his head? It would have been more likely that the ocean dried up, or that Meru stood on his crown. Then, through the panic, the story of how the Pandavas deceived Drona filters. Gripped by the mood of his army, Dury-odhana also turns his horses and dashes from battle.
Suddenly, ahead of him he hears a voice that brings him up short, “Duryodhana, what happened? Karna, you look as if the war is already lost! Who is dead that you panic like this? How can you run from the field, when Drona is your Senapati?”
Duryodhana stands mute. Aswatthama cries again, “Tell me, who died?”
Not for a moment does any suspicion of the truth cross his mind. His father is invincible; who can kill Drona? Duryodhana turns imploringly to Kripa and says in a whisper, “I beg you, Acharya, tell him. I cannot.”
Gently, Kripa breaks the news to Aswatthama. He tells him how the Pandavas lied to Drona, how even Yudhishtira lied. He tells the son how his father laid down his weapons and yoked himself in dhyana. Finally, he tells him how Dhrishtadyumna leapt on to Drona’s chariot and struck off his head. Aswatthama grows very still; for a moment, it seems he has turned to stone. But his eyes are terrible and a ripple of fear shimmers through the Kaurava legions when they sense his fury.
He does not break down, he doesn’t even cry. Quietly, he says, “There was no other way they could have killed him and they will die for what they have done. War is a fearsome thing, that it can make even Yudhishtira abandon dharma. I could have borne his death, if my father had been killed honorably. This is intolerable. Drona is in Devaloka now, because he died a hero’s death; but those who killed him shall find hell before the sun sets today. Dhrishtadyumna will not live, nor Yudhishtira.
Now he raises his voice, so all the army hears him. “Duryodhana, I have an astra that not Arjuna, Krishna, Bheema or Yudhishtira will resist. It is a weapon never used against common soldiers and I did not summon it. Vishnu himself once gave my father the narayanastra and Drona gave it to me. In this world, only I have that ayudha and I mean to avenge my father with it today. Duryodhana, my friend, let us return to battle. I will make you lord of the earth in a few moments!”
The Kaurava legions rally round Aswatthama. Conches resound, horns are blown, drums beaten and Duryodhana’s army wheels into battle again. Across Kurukshetra, the celebrating Pandavas hear the conches and horns. They see the cloud of dust where the Kaurava chariots, horses and footsoldiers surge toward them again. Above the rest of the distant din, they hear one voice roaring.
Standing among his brothers, Yudhishtira says, “A moment ago they fled in terror and now they have turned around and come back to fight. Fresh hope stirs them and I hear one voice raised like a tiger’s above every other. Whose is it?”
Arjuna says grimly, “It is Aswatthama coming to avenge his father. Yudhishtira, you lied to have our guru’s life; now who will save us from his son? Aswatthama was born by Siva’s blessing; no one can save you from him, Dhrishtadyumna. I was not for it, Yudhishtira: what we did was adharma and we will pay for it with our lives. For greed of a kingdom, my brother, you told the lie that killed our master. It would have been better to abandon the war, than do this shameful thing. Our sin is three-fold: of killing a brahmana, an elder who loved us like a father and a guru. We have forsaken the truth and now we will die!”
Arjuna stands trembling, as a stunned silence follows his outburst. Then, his eyes turning red in a moment, Bheema growls, “Such fine words, Arjuna! You speak like a vaanaprastha who has renounced the world. But I don’t like what you say. Are you a brahmana that you speak like this? You are Arjuna, who can subdue the earth with your astras! Then why do you talk like a priest, whose only glory is his humility? You disgust me. And how dare you accuse Yudhishtira of adharma? Answer me!
Bheema’s reaction is so ferocious that Arjuna is taken aback. He stands confused and makes no reply. Bheema has not finished, “Aren’t we here to fight a war? Were we not cheated and humiliated? Was all that was done to us dharma? When we were exiled, when that animal dragged Draupadi into the Kuru sabha and tried to strip her? Answer me, Arjuna! Didn’t you once say that we must fight to avenge ourselves? And now you whine about dharma to our brother: to Yudhishtira who spent thirteen years like a beggar for dharma’s sake! Yudhishtira, emperor of the earth, who lived like a common courtier in Virata’s palace and did not protest when that king flung his dice at him as if he was his slave. Answer me, Arjuna!” roars Bheema.
“Wasn’t it dharma for which Yudhishtira agreed to take five towns from Duryodhana, to sue for peace? And this is the man you accuse of being greedy for a kingdom and of killing his guru with treachery. Are you blind that you didn’t see how Drona burnt our legions with his astras? Are you witless, that the great Arjuna does not realize how all we have suffered and everything we have fought for would have been in vain, if Drona was not killed? You have courage to stand there and accuse Yudhishtira!
Abhimanyu was killed by treachery and most of those responsible are still alive. Karna humiliated me on the field and he still lives. And suddenly, instead of doing what he is meant to, fighting the war, here is Arjuna preaching dharma to his older brother. And singing Aswatthama’s praises. ‘He was born by Siva’s blessing. Who can save us from him?’ I say to you, Bheema will smash Aswatthama down with his mace!
Arjuna, you have gone too far today. You have insulted the one who drives your chariot. Look where he stands, smiling so tolerantly. He is the Lord! He asked Yudhishtira to lie to Drona. Who are you that you know more about dharma than Krishna does? You are a kshatriya, a warrior. Just that. It would be better if you left matters of dharma to those who really know about these things. You are no rishi, brother: remember that before you preach to your betters!”
Still glowering, Bheema falls silent. With a cry, Yudhishtira embraces him.
Dhrishtadyumna bristles, “Arjuna, you say that I killed a brahmana. How was Drona a brahmana any more? Do you know what a brahmana is, that you preach to me? He must perform yagnas, he must be a teacher and always a student as well. How was Drona a brahmana? He taught, but no Veda. He studied, but not the Shastras. And what was the yagna he performed? He sacrificed a million lives in the flames of his astras! And for whom was this offering? For no God, Arjuna, but for a demon called Duryodhana. Why, even as a warrior, Drona was an adharmi. Who else would use the devastras against ordinary soldiers? He was bloodthirsty, arrogant and merciless.
Besides, we all know I was born to kill him. Didn’t we come here to fight a war? Haven’t I been following Drona like his shadow, for fifteen days? Didn’t you know that I meant to kill him? Now that I have, you blame me, instead of embracing me in joy that I have rid you of your most powerful enemy. This is strange indeed, Arjuna!
If you speak of dharma, tell me, did you kill Jayadratha in perfect dharma? Wasn’t the sun hidden before you cut away his head? Or is that not deceit, because Arjuna is the one whom it helped? You killed Jayadratha because you lost one son. Drona killed my father, my brothers and all my sons. I have avenged myself on a murderer and I feel no remorse. I have saved the lives of thousands of men whom the demented brahmana would have made ashes with his astras. And I swear I am the happiest man alive!”
Arjuna makes no reply and Dhrishtadyumna rages on, “You say a kshatriya should not kill an elder. Wasn’t Bhagadatta an elder, wasn’t he your father Pandu’s friend? You say a kshatriya shouldn’t kill his guru, or someone who is like a father to him. What about Bheeshma? I did not see your hand falter at your bowstring, when Bheeshma laid his weapons down. Or, perhaps, he wasn’t your Pitama and far more a father to you than the wretched Drona? So what are you saying? That if Arjuna kills an elder that is no sin, but if Dhrishtadyumna does, it is.” Dhrishtadyumna cries, “Drau-padi is my sister and her sons are my nephews. Or I swear I would kill you for what you have dared say to me today!”
Satyaki cries, “Dare you speak to Arjuna like this! You have done a vile thing before all these noble men, Dhrishtadyumna; and you dare turn on Arjuna? Not only do you kill your master, when he sits in dhyana with no weapon in his hand, you cut his head from his body and fling it down on the ground! How does Bheeshma’s fall compare with Drona’s death? The Pitama asked to be killed, but not Drona. Besides, your brother Shikhandi shot Bheeshma first, not Arjuna. Not another word from you, coward, or I will crush your head!”
Satyaki stands growling, mace in hand. Dhrishtadyumna laughs in the Yadava’s face. He says coolly, “We are fighting this war on the same side and so perhaps I should forgive you, Satyaki. But this is passing strange, that you of all people preach to me! Yadava, was it dharma when you killed Bhoorisravas? Hadn’t he given up the war, didn’t he sit in dhyana? That was such a noble thing you did! After Arjuna cut off his arm and he was helpless, the great Satyaki cut off Bhoorisravas’ head. And you dare accuse me!
Listen to me, Yadava. We are here to fight a dharma yuddha. We are here to put down a tide of evil, which chokes the earth. We are here to crush the Kauravas. At times, fire must be fought with fire. You killed Bhoorisravas when he was helpless; but you had an old feud with him and this is war. So we said nothing to you. In war, particularly, dharma is hard to define and adharma too. The final dharma in war is to prevail over the enemy. All of us are here because we believe the cause of the Pandavas is the cause of truth and that they have been grievously wronged.
Yudhishtira has never told a lie in his life, because he holds truth more sacrosanct than anything. Yet, when he saw how Drona burned our men with devastras, he sacrificed his truth for his soldiers’ lives. You know as well as I that if the Acharya had not been stopped, he would have killed us all and cremated our cause with us. Better than anyone, you know what it is to inherit an old feud. You killed Bhoorisravas because of such a feud. Because of such a feud, Drona killed my father and my sons; and I killed him. But it seems you have one dharma to judge what Arjuna and you do and another to judge me. I cannot kill Arjuna because he is my sister’s husband, but no such bond prevents me from killing you. Come, Yadava, let me see how you crush my head!”
Satyaki needs no encouragement. He runs at Dhrishtadyumna, with his mace raised. Bheema leaps down from his chariot and flings his arms around Satyaki. Even Bheema is dragged along a full five paces, but on the sixth he stops the Yadava, who struggles furiously but is helpless against the iron clasp in which the wind’s son holds him.
Krishna, Arjuna and Sahadeva intervene. Tears in his eyes, Sahadeva cries, “Now we are at each other’s throats. Stop it! I beg you, Satyaki and Dhrishtadyumna, stop this madness. And you two are such friends. Satyaki, you are like Krishna to us and Dhrishtadyumna is as dear as his sister is. Bhoo-risravas and Drona are both dead and we are forgetting we are standing on a field of war! Embrace each other now and forget the harsh things you said.”
Krishna and Yudhishtira add their voices to Sahadeva’s. But it is the arrival of the Kaurava army, led now by Aswatthama, which sobers the Panchala and the Yadava. Together, they turn to face the enemy again.