THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 by Ramesh Menon Read Free Book Online Page A

kshatriya. Perhaps, Dhritarashtra believes some of what he accuses me of, before all these, my dearest ones on earth. It is not my place to answer an elder in an open sabha. It his privilege to believe whatever he wants and my dharma to keep what I think to myself.
    As for the reply, which my uncle obviously expects from me, I leave that to Krishna. He has heard everything you said. Let him decide if we should desist from war because of the message Dhritarashtra sends,” his voice sank, “or whether we should have war just because of his message. Whatever I have done so far has been with Krishna’s blessing. Today, I relinquish my will and my future to him. Let him decide what we must do, I will abide by his decision.”
    Only the Dark One saw, in his clear heart, how more subtle pieces of fate fell in place for a bloody war. He had come to remove a burden of evil from the earth and his brilliant life had not been a peaceful one. But this final war between the forces of darkness and light would be an unprecedented purification. The war on the brink of the ages would shed more blood than any previous one and the grateful earth would be lighter by millions of arrogant lives. Then she could cross easily into the age to come, the diminished kali yuga, with no power left upon her that might dominate the coming night.
    The true reasons for Krishna’s birth into the world at the age’s end were as mysterious as life itself, as inscrutable as he was. But he had come to cleanse the earth and the Kuru war was to be the climax of that ceremony. Knowing how inexorable destiny is, Krishna smiled to himself at these courtly messages and deliberations.
    But in the council in Upaplavya, he said, “Sanjaya, I am moved that my cousin relinquishes his very fate to me, the welfare of the Pandavas is my first concern. Yet, I would also like Dhritarashtra’s sons to have long lives. Your king’s message is strange indeed. It seems to me, he seeks to blame Yudhishtira for Duryodhana’s crimes.
    After the game of dice, we all urged Yudhishtira to take back with force what he had been deprived of by low deceit. But he said he was also to blame for what had happened and the path of dharma led surely through thirteen years of exile. Now the blind one in Hastinapura dares fault him for his rectitude, for his majestic patience. Sanjaya, a thief must be punished. Even a king who takes what is not his, is just a thief. To my mind, Yudhishtira should punish Duryodhana; it is his kshatriya dharma.
    There will be no peace, as long as Duryodhana holds what rightfully belongs to Yudhishtira. I say, not only is Duryodhana a thief, but his father Dhritarashtra is also one. Didn’t he encourage his son to take what did not belong to him? Didn’t he enjoy the fruits of Duryodhana’s sin? Even now Dhri-tarashtra does not want to give back what is not his to keep: what he gave away, long ago, though it was only a desert then. And Dhritarashtra dares preach peace to Yudhishtira, who is an image of dharma on earth? I would laugh at his temerity, were it not so heartless and so tragic.
    I still say to you, Yudhishtira does not want this war. And neither do I. We do not wish to stain the earth with the blood of eleven aksauhinis, or even to kill Dhritarashtra’s sons. Let them return Indraprastha to Yudhishtira and there will be no war. Only Yudhishtira’s selfless nature makes this solution possible. A lesser man would have extracted terrible revenge for the shame he and his brothers and, most of all, Draupadi suffered in Hastinapura and for thirteen bitter years of exile. Can Duryodhana even imagine what these lords of the earth endured when they were deprived, in a day, of everything they had?”
    This was not the genial Krishna, whom everyone knew and loved; it was another Krishna, grave and fearsome. He spoke softly, slowly and there was no laughter in him at all. “Yes, return to your king and tell him what I say to you now. Tell every man in that