FIVE
The Pandavas arrive on the banks of the Dwaipayana lake. No ripple stirs its surface; the water lies smooth as a mirror.
Yudhishtira says, “Drona taught us how to do this: Duryodhana has used a siddhi to still the lake. He is under the water, hiding like a coward; but he will not escape today. Even if Indra comes to save him, I mean to send our cousin to the next world.”
Yudhishtira is trembling with the rage he has borne, so patiently, for thirteen years. Krishna says, “Then make him come out, Yudhishtira and kill him. Today, he must pay for everything.”
Yudhishtira comes to the edge of the lake and cries angrily, “How can you hide now, Suyodhana? Every kshatriya in Bharatavarsha has died for you. Your brothers are all dead, your uncle Shakuni is dead and you hide like a common coward. Where is your pride? Where is your honor? If you are a Kuru, come out and fight! Millions have died for you and here you are clinging to your life. Bheeshma lies dying, Drona is dead and your beloved sutaputra is gone. I had thought that if you are arrogant and envious, you are fearless too. Come out, cousin and fight like a kshatriya. If you kill us, you can still rule the world.”
A mocking laugh wafts out from the water. Duryodhana’s voice speaks to them. “You prate like a witless boy, Yudhishtira. How dare you think I fled the battle! I saw my brothers and my uncle die and I was dazed. I sat numbly on my horse, hardly aware of the world around me. The horse wandered away from Kurukshetra on his own and then he fell dead. I walked away from the beast, not knowing what I did or where I went. My body felt as if it was on fire and when I saw this lake, I thought I would cool my fevered limbs in it. You flatter yourself, cousin, to think I am hiding from you. As soon as I have rested, I will come out and we will fight. Meanwhile, you and your men must also be tired. You rest, as well and we will fight when we are fresh again.”
Yudhishtira is secretly pleased that his cousin is not, after all, afraid! Somehow, even he cannot bear to think of Duryodhana as being craven. The Pandava says, “We need no rest. We have been searching everywhere for you, come out and fight us.”
A pause, then, Duryodhana says, “Yudhishtira, I don’t want the kingdom any more. Those with whom I meant to share and enjoy it are all dead. My brothers are dead. My Karna is gone. The earth has lost her splendor. I will fight you; yes, I will surely fight you. But you can have the kingdom: it means nothing to me any more, it is just some barren ground. I make a gift of this lusterless earth to you, Yudhishtira; it is yours to rule. And I will put on tree-bark and deerskin and spend the rest of my days in the jungle, seeking my peace.”
Yudhishtira roars, “Dare you! What right have you over the kingdom any more, that you presume to give it to me? Even if it were yours to give, I would never take it from you as a gift, but win it in battle. No kshatriya would rule a land that his enemy has given him.
Yet, there was a time when all this kingdom was yours to give. You were lord of the earth, when your uncle and you conspired to banish us for thirteen years. We came back from our exile and asked you gently to give back what was ours. Then you were not so magnanimous. When Krishna came to you as our messenger, the answer you sent with him was that you would not give us enough land to set on the point of a needle! Now, suddenly, you are the soul of generosity. You have lost your mind, Duryodhana. How else would the king of all the world, who wouldn’t give his cousins five towns, be ready now to part with his entire kingdom? Cousin, you have no kingdom left to give.
Yet, you still have one thing to lose. You have your life, Duryodhana and it is for your life I have come. Our long enmity must end today, for only one of us can be king in Hastinapura. After all that has happened, I do not mean to let you escape with your life today. So come out and fight.”
Yudhishtira’s voice sounds very different, so hard now. “This enmity between us has lasted too long. You have hated us since the day we first came to Hastinapura from the jungle. One way or another, you have done your best to destroy us. Today, all that must end. I will see you dead today and send you to swarga where you do not deserve to go. Come out and fight!” roars Yudhishtira.
Duryodhana stiffens under the lake. No one has dared speak to him like this in years, not since he became master of the earth. He is also taken aback, because it is the gentle Yudhishtira who speaks so harshly. There is nothing for it but to come out and fight.
Crafty to the end, Duryodhana says, “I marvel at this! All of you are men of dharma and you want to fight me all together, when I have no chariot, or a single soldier left. I don’t even have a bow or sword, only my mace. I have no armor and I am wounded. But I am not afraid of any of you. I do not fear Satyaki, Dhrishtadyumna or even your Krishna. I will meet you all as the year does the seasons and I will kill you all. Yet it saddens me that you, who call yourselves kshatriyas, have banded together to murder a defenseless man. Remember that a man takes only dharma out of this world with him; and you forsake dharma by this cowardice.
But that is your concern, not mine. I am a kshatriya and a Kuru and I am ready to fight you all and send you to your fathers. If I die, I will be the happiest man, because I will be with my Karna again. But what do you know about Karna, or that he was the noblest man who ever lived? I will kill all of you first, then take my own life. Prepare to die, I am coming!”
With a swirling of the water, Duryodhana emerges from the lake. He rises from the Dwaipayana lake as the sun does from the sea. He is majestic. His chest is as broad as a hill, his arms are splendid and his mace is laid across his shoulder. His eyes burn darker than ever and despite themselves, the Pandavas find themselves quivering with admiration as he wades calmly out of the water to face them.
Yudhishtira smiles. “I am proud that my cousin isn’t a coward, but a true Kuru after all!”
Duryodhana gains the shore and rasps, “I will fight you one at a time. You are men of dharma, you know what the dharma of kshatriyas is.”
“Do you mean the same dharma you used to kill Abhimanyu?” retorts Yudhishtira. “It seems only when the law applies to you it is meant to be observed. But as you say, we are men of dharma. So, Duryodhana, choose any one of us and choose your weapon. If you win, you can rule the earth again.”
There is a ripple of dismay among the others at the foolhardy offer. But that is Yudhishtira: as soon as he sees Duryodhana come out so bravely from the water, the Pandava’s rage leaves him. The Kaurava is his young cousin, once more and deserves a fair chance. Duryodhana stands there like a tiger eyeing a herd of cattle.
With a tight smile, he says, “It seems we are almost friends again at this final hour. I accept your offer! For my weapon, I choose this mace. As for my opponent, it makes no difference which of you I fight first: one by one, I will kill you all. Come, I am ready.”
Yudhishtira actually glows to hear him, so dauntless. He says, “Then fight me first. I will kill you and send you to Devaloka, where you now deserve to go for your courage!”
Duryodhana stands before them, his body covered in wounds that have begun to bleed again. He is a mountain of sinister presence, cool and full of slow rage. A roar breaks from him at what Yudhishtira says, “Come then! I will fight any of you and send you all to hell. There is no one who can face me with a gada.”
He stands there, red-eyed, bristling and growling like a great wild beast.