Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata
Ekalavya took Drona’s words seriously. In a clearing in the woods, not far from Hastina-puri, Ekalavya created an effigy of Drona, and taught himself archery under its watchful gaze.
A few weeks later, he was disturbed by the sound of a barking dog. He shot several arrows in the direction of the dog. The arrows entered the mouth of the dog such that, without harming him in any way, they kept his jaws pried open making it impossible for him to bark.
The dog turned out to be the hunting hound of the Pandavas. Arjuna was surprised to find his dog gagged thus. He presented it to Drona and said rather enviously, ‘You said you would make me the greatest archer in the world, but whoever did this unbelievable feat is surely greater.’
Drona decided to investigate and found himself face to face with his own effigy in a clearing in the woods. Ekalavya, who stood before it with a bow in hand, rushed towards him and fell at his feet. ‘Welcome,’ he said.
‘Who taught you this?’ asked Drona grumpily.
‘You did, not in person of course, but by blessing and inspiring me to teach myself,’ replied Ekalavya, his eyes full of earnest excitement.
Drona looked at Arjuna and remembered his promise to make Arjuna the greatest archer in the land. ‘You must pay me a fee for what you have learnt because of me,’ said Drona craftily.
‘Whatever you wish is yours,’ said Ekalavya bowing humbly.
‘The thumb of your right hand. Give me your thumb,’ said Drona, his voice cold and unfeeling. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ekalavya pulled out a knife, sliced his right thumb and placed it at his guru’s feet.
Arjuna returned to Hastina-puri shaken by the cruelty of his teacher, for without the right thumb Ekalavya would never be able to wield the bow. ‘This was necessary for the sake of social stability—we cannot allow everyone to become archers. Now, there is no one greater than you in archery,’ said Drona softly. Arjuna did not comment.
Vyasa portrays Arjuna as a highly insecure and competitive youth. Ekalavya’s cut thumb mocks his position as the greatest archer in the world. Through the tale Vyasa demonstrates how greatness need not be achieved by being better than others; it can also be achieved by pulling down others who are better.
As per varna-dharma, a son is supposed to follow in his father’s footsteps. Drona therefore was supposed to be a priest like his father, or a sage, but he chooses to become a warrior, as does his son, Ashwatthama. While he breaks the varna-dharma code himself, his argument against Ekalavya bearing the bow, that encouraging lower castes to become archers would destroy the varna system of society, seems rather hypocritical.
The Mahabharata does not refer to the classical four-tiered Vedic society of Brahmans (priests), Kshatriyas (warriors), Vaishyas (merchants) and Shudras (servants). Instead, it refers to a three-tiered society where Rajanyas or Kshatriyas (warriors-kings-rulers) provided for Rishis or Brahmans (priests-teachers-magicians) and ruled over commoners—cowherds, farmers, fisherfolk, charioteers, potters, carpenters. Outside this society were the Nishadhas, or forest-dwellers, who were treated with disdain. There are clear signs of prejudice against those outside or at the bottom of society. They were forbidden from learning archery, for example.
The bow was the supreme weapon of the Vedic civilization. It represented poise and balance. It also represented desire, aspiration and ambition. When a king was crowned, he was made to hold the bow. Winners of archery contests were given women as trophies. All the gods held bows in their hands.
22
The graduation ceremony
Drona organized a tournament to showcase before the people of Hastina-puri the skills of his students.
The star pupil was none other than Arjuna who could use his bow to shoot multiple arrows and who never missed a target. Everyone cheered for the royal archer and this filled Kunti with great pride. The Kauravas were envious for Arjuna outshone everyone and was clearly the favourite of the people.
Suddenly, there entered in the tournament another archer. On his chest dazzled a brilliant armour and on his ears were radiant jewels. Identifying himself as Karna, he declared, ‘I can do all that Arjuna can and more.’
Drona asked him to prove it. Karna performed all of Arjuna’s feats and surpassed in each one of them, earning the adulation of the crowds. ‘He is as great as Arjuna,’ they said, ‘perhaps greater.’ The Pandavas, who until then were the centre of attention, now felt small and neglected.
Suddenly Adiratha, the chief of the royal stables, ran into the arena and hugged Karna. ‘My son, my son, you have done me proud,’ he said beaming.
‘What! This man is the son of a charioteer. How dare he challenge Kshatriyas in an archery tournament?’ shouted Bhima.
Karna did not know what to say. The cruel words of Bhima stung him like a swarm of bees. Was his skill not good enough? Why should his birth matter?
It was then that Duryodhana came to Karna’s rescue. ‘Surely merit matters more than birth,’ he said. ‘I think Karna is a Kshatriya by merit. Let us treat him as one.’
‘No,’ said Yudhishtira, standing up. ‘Dharma states that a man should be what his father is. Karna’s father is a charioteer. He cannot therefore be a Kshatriya.’
Karna wanted to say that he was only raised by a charioteer. But then people would ask who his father truly was and he would have no answer, for he was a foundling, abandoned at birth by his mother, found by Adiratha floating on the river in a basket.
Karna swallowed his pride and kept quiet. Duryodhana placed his hand around Karna and said, ‘This man is a great archer. I will not let him be insulted. I take him as my friend, closer to my heart than my brothers. He who insults him insults me.’ Turning to his father, he said, ‘Father, if you declare him warlord, no one will insult him again.’ Dhritarashtra who could never deny his son anything, agreed to make Karna a warlord, the king of Anga.
Karna felt a lump in his throat. No one had ever come to his defence thus. He was eternally obliged to Duryodhana. He swore that he would be the friend of the Kauravas till the day he died.
The Pandavas protested quoting the dharma-shastras. The Kauravas argued, realizing that with Karna on their side they were as powerful as the Pandavas, if not more.
Bhishma sensed the family feud was becoming a public spectacle. On one side were the five Pandavas and on the other side were the hundred Kauravas and their new friend Karna. He was embarrassed as his grand-nephews abused each other over Karna. They were about to come to blows when suddenly, in the pavillion reserved for the royal women, they heard a cry. Kunti had fainted. Everyone rushed to her side. Taking advantage of this moment, Bhishma declared the tournament to be formally closed and ordered the princes to return to the palace.
Watching her great grandsons snarl at each other like street dogs, Satyavati took a decision. ‘I see this family I worked so hard to create will soon destroy itself. I cannot bear to see it. I will therefore go to the forest.’ Ambika and Ambalika decided to join their mother-in-law. The tensions between Kunti and Gandhari and their sons were becoming unbearable. It was clearly time to leave.
With Karna, Duryodhana becomes as powerful as Yudhishtira. While Yudhishtira has Arjuna, Duryodhana has no archer on his side. This deficiency is made up when he accepts Karna as an equal. Vyasa never clarifies if Duryodhana is using Karna or genuinely admiring him.
Arjuna is the son of Indra, god of the sky and rain. Karna is the son of Surya, god of the sun. Indra and Surya were ancient rivals, each claiming supremacy in the Vedic pantheon. In the epic Ramayana, this rivalry takes the form of a conflict between Vali, who is the son of Indra and Sugriva, who is the son of Surya. God in the form of Ram sides with Sugriva over Vali. In the Mahabharata, God changes allies and prefers the son of Indra, Arjuna, over the son of Surya, Karna. Thus the balance is achieved between the two gods over two lifetimes.
Karna embodies a man who refuses to submit to the social station imposed upon him by society.
23
Karna’s story
/> Kunti fainted during the tournament because she recognized the youth with armour and earrings as her first son. He was born before marriage, hence abandoned to save her reputation.
Pleased with her services, the sage Durvasa had given Kunti a magic formula by which she could call upon any Deva she wished and have a child by him. This happened when she was still a girl at her father’s house. Curious to test the mantra out, without realizing the consequences of such an action, she had invoked Surya, the sun-god. Surya appeared before her and gave her a son. He was born with a pair of earrings attached to his ears and a golden armour that clung to his chest. A terrified Kunti put the child in a basket and left it to a river’s whim.
This basket was found by Adiratha who served the Kuru clan as a charioteer. He and his wife, Radha, had no children and so they raised the foundling as their own.
As the years passed, Karna had this great desire to be a warrior. He even approached Drona but Drona refused to teach him the art of war. ‘Stick to learning your father’s trade,’ he was told. But his mother, Radha, encouraged him to follow his own heart.
Determined to learn archery, Karna went to Drona’s teacher, Parashurama, disguised as a Brahman because Parashurama was ever willing to teach Brahmans the use of weapons to stand up against the Kshatriyas. Parashurama accepted Karna as a student and was pleased with his eagerness to learn. Soon, Karna became Parashurama’s best student, well versed in all the martial arts.
One day, Parashurama took a nap resting his head on Karna’s lap. When he woke up, he found Karna’s thigh soaked in blood. A worm had eaten into his flesh. ‘The agony must have been unbearable. Why did you not shout or move to pull the worm away?’ asked Parashurama.
‘I did not want to disturb you as you slept. So I suffered the pain silently without movement,’ said Karna, hoping to earn his teacher’s admiration.
Instead of being impressed, Parashurama lost his temper. His eyes widened in realization. ‘You cannot possibly be the Brahman you claim to be. Only a Kshatriya is strong and stupid enough to suffer such pain silently. Tell me truly who you are.’
Realizing there was no fooling his teacher, Karna fell at Parashurama’s feet and revealed, ‘I was raised by a charioteer but I do not know my true origins.’
‘You lie. You are the child of a warrior. You are a Kshatriya and that is why you have been able to display such strength. Because you duped me into teaching you, you will forget what I taught you the day you need it most.’ Having uttered this curse, Parashurama drove Karna away.
There are those who speculate that Karna was a love-child, a product of a premarital liaison with a prince of the solar dynasty, hence the reference to the sun-god. This story is narrated to warn women against the dangers of submitting to passion before marriage.
Parashurama’s hatred of Kshatriyas is the stuff of lore. He is considered to be a form of Vishnu who hacked many warrior clans with his mighty axe when warriors abused their military might to dominate society. He taught many Brahmans warfare to neutralize the power of the Kshatriyas. The tale of Parashurama comes from a time when the conflict between priests and kings was at its height.
According to varna-dharma, a man should follow his father’s vocation, to ensure social stability. And a father is the man who marries the woman who bears the child. The Pandavas are warriors because the man who married their birth-mother, Kunti, was Pandu, a Kshatriya. Since Karna does not know who his birth-mother is, he does not know the man who married her, and so does not know what vocation he should follow. All he knows is his inner calling to be a warrior.
Vyasa constantly draws attention to the dangers of conflict between individual aspiration and family duty imposed on children by their fathers. Driven by desire, Karna refuses to be a charioteer like his foster father. Driven by vengeance, Drona refuses to be a priest like his natural father. Krishna, though born in a warrior family, prefers being identified as a cowherd or charioteer. For it is not vocation that matters; what matters is the underlying intent.
In the Indonesian telling of the epic, Karna is born out of Kunti’s ear, hence his name Karna which means ‘ear’. This is why Kunti is still a virgin when she gets married to Pandu.
Book Five
Castaway
‘Janamejaya, Rakshasas and Nagas and Gandharvas helped your family survive.’
24
Bhima and the Nagas
Ever since Kunti returned to Hastina-puri with her five sons, the hundred sons of Gandhari feared they would have to share their inheritance with their cousins.
‘But they are not the true sons of Pandu. They were conceived by the law of niyoga through other men. Truly, ours is the royal bloodline,’ said Duryodhana to Vidura one day.
And Vidura said, ‘No. The blood of Pratipa and Shantanu flows only in Bhishma. Neither Pandu nor Dhritarashtra belong to the original bloodline. They are sprouts of Vyasa’s seed nurtured in the wombs of the princesses of Kashi. So your argument has little weight. Besides, Pandu was crowned king before your father.’
‘But my father is elder,’ protested Duryodhana.
‘By that logic, Yudhishtira should be the next king, as he is the eldest grandchild of Vichitravirya.’
Duryodhana was thus silenced but that did not stop him from hating his cousins. The hatred was mutual.
The Pandavas feared the Kauravas as they had no real power in the court; their mother was a widow and their father dead. They all lived in the shadow of the blind king and his blindfolded wife.
Bhima often bullied the Kauravas, picking them up and throwing them to the ground, or shaking trees that they had climbed on until they fell down like nuts.
One day, tired of Bhima’s bullying, the Kauravas decided to poison him. They offered him sweets laced with poison. When he had lost consciousness, they tied his limbs and threw him into a river.
Bhima would surely have drowned. But in the river lived Nagas. Their leader, Aryaka, rescued Bhima and asked his Nagas to draw the poison out of him. Aryaka then took Bhima to Bhogavati, the city of the Nagas, and presented him to the Naga king, Vasuki.
Vasuki welcomed Bhima, ‘Your mother, Kunti, is a descendant of Yadu and Yadu was the son-in-law of Dhumravarna, a great Naga. Thus the blood of Nagas flows in your veins. You are one of us.’ The Nagas danced for Bhima and hosted a banquet in his honour. They also made him drink a potion that would forever protect him from any poison in the world.
Thus revived and restored to health, Bhima returned home, much to the delight of his mother and brothers, and much to the chagrin of the Kauravas.
Who should be king? The eldest son or the fittest son? A child belonging to the original bloodline, or anyone with the right capability? Vyasa ponders on this point throughout the epic.
Nagas or hooded serpents lived within rivers, beneath the earth, in the realm known as Rasa-tala in a gem-studded city known as Bhogavati that was ruled by the great serpent-king, Vasuki. Besides being highly venomous, they were also guardians of gems that fulfilled all wishes, cured all ailments, resurrected the dead, restored fertility, granted children and brought good fortune.
Anthropologists believe that the Nagas referred to in the epic were actually settled agricultural communities who worshipped serpents who they regarded as guardians of fertility. Even today serpents are worshipped for children as well as for a good harvest.
A folktale from Tamil Nadu informs us that the entire Kuru household assumed that Bhima had drowned and that his body had been washed away. So they mourned his death and even organized a funeral feast a fortnight later to mark the end of the period of mourning. On that day, after all the vegetables had been cut and spices prepared, Bhima emerged from the river to the great relief of his mother and his brothers. Not wanting the vegetables and spices to be wasted, Bhima offered to cook a special meal, something different to indicate his new life. He mixed all the vegetables and spices, added coconut milk, and prepared the famed Tamil dish known as ‘aviyal’ or the mixture. This was quite
different from a typical Vedic dish where mixing of vegetables was prohibited.
During his stay with the Nagas, some folk versions of the epic state that Bhima was given a wife. From that Naga wife he bore a son who participated in the war at Kuru-kshetra. This son’s name was Bilalsen in retellings from Orissa and Barbareek in retellings from Rajasthan.
25
A house of lac
The Kuru household was clearly divided into two rival camps: the Pandavas and the Kauravas. Each one believed they were the rightful heirs to the throne.
Yudhishtira was the eldest son of the consecrated king, the first of Vichitravirya’s grandsons. As far as the Pandavas were concerned, their uncle was only a regent. But the Kauravas believed that their father had been wronged and that he was, as the eldest son of Vichitravirya, the rightful heir to the throne.
Despite having ninety-nine brothers, Duryodhana felt weaker than the Pandavas. Yudhishtira had beside him an archer in Arjuna, a strongman in Bhima and an adviser in Sahadeva. Who did he have besides Dusshasana? Things changed when Karna became his friend; Karna was as great an archer as Arjuna. And for advice, he had Shakuni, his mother’s brother.
The smallest of things would lead to quarrels in the palace between the cousins. Kunti and Gandhari advised their sons to show restraint but their words were left unheeded. Sometimes, even the mothers submitted to the rivalry.
Once, Kunti decided to perform a ceremony that involved worshipping elephants for the well-being of her sons. She ordered the potters of the city to make for her elephant dolls using clay. When Gandhari learnt of her plans, she also decided to perform a similar ceremony for her sons, but to upstage Kunti, she ordered the metal smiths of the city to make for her elephant dolls of gold. This made Kunti acutely aware of her low status in the palace. She was the dependant widow of the former king. To bring a smile back on his mother’s face, Arjuna said, ‘I shall ask my father, Indra, to send down the celestial elephant, Airavat, for your ceremony.’ Indra agreed, but drew Arjuna’s attention to a problem: how would an elephant that lived in the sky descend to the earth? Arjuna simply raised his bow and shot many arrows to create a bridge connecting the sky and the earth. The world watched in astonishment as Airavat descended to Hastina-puri for Kunti’s puja.