Krishnavatara III: The Five Brothers Page 4
'I knew, Krishna, that you would not be tempted by the offer. I frankly told Drupada so, but as he was very insistent, I had to promise him to convey his message to you,' said Sandipani as he smiled appreciatively. 'I also told him that you are a very difficult person to deal with. You will not allow anyone to make up your mind for you.'
'What a poor opinion my Guru has of me!' said Krishna, and both the teacher and the pupil laughed, each eyeing the other with affection.
'I wish I had more disciples I had such a high opinion of as I have of you, Krishna,' said Sandipani. 'What reply shall I convey to King Drupada?'
'Gurudeva, take him my humble greetings and tell him that I am beholden to such a noble king, for the preference he has shown for me.' said Krishna. 'But the Yadavas are too well settled in Dwaraka to think of returning to Mathura. Tell him also that I feel unequal to the task which he wishes to call me to.'
'You can't brush this affair aside lightly. Have you realised what we are in for, if you refuse the offer,' asked Sandipani, his face becoming grave.
'No,' replied Krishna.
'Hate consumes Drupada. At times I have felt that it may drive him to any madness. He may offer Draupadi to Jarasandha and precipitate a war with the Kurus. Then even the Gods cannot save the Aryas,' said Sandipani.
Krishna thought for a while. 'That disaster must be averted,' he said, anxiety creeping into his voice.
'I shudder to think where Drupada's bitterness will lead him,' said Sandipani.
'And Dronacharya is no less determined?' said Krishna.
'Perhaps,' said Sandipani.
'Gurudeva, we shall have to think over this matter,' said Krishna.
The teacher and the pupil exchanged meaningful glances.
They understood each other's unspoken thoughts.
'Please convey my homage to Drupada and tell him that when I come to Hastinapura where I am invited by my cousin Yudhishthira, I will visit Kampilya to pay my respects to him,' said Krishna.
'You are going to Hastinapura!' exclaimed Sandipani in surprise. 'You need not go there now. Yudhishthira is no longer the yuvaraja’.
'What!' exclaimed Krishna, taken aback.
'Shvetaketu was there in Hastinapura when the Five Brothers were banished by King Dhritarashtra. He will be able to tell you more about it. He has just arrived from Bhrigu Tirtha.' Sandipani clapped his hands and called his principal disciple.
Shvetaketu came to where they were sitting and folded his hands before the Guru. Krishna got up and the two friends held each other in a happy embrace.
Shvetaketu was the pride of Sandipani's school. He was learned in the Vedas; he was a first-rate teacher of the martial art. His honest face was framed in a short, dark beard and dark matted locks.
Sandipani said: 'Shvetaketu, tell Krishna all about the banishment of the Five Brothers from Hastinapura'.
'Yes' said Shvetaketu, taking his seat in front of Sandipani. 'When I went to Hastinapura to collect the three cadets who were to join our school, I met Uddhava, who was preparing to accompany the Five Brothers to Varanavata. It seems that King Dhritarashtra, egged on by Duryodhana-whom, Krishna, you know very well-asked Yudhishthira to give up his office as Crown Prince and to proceed to Varanavata with his brothers and mother. When the people heard of this misfortune they were stricken with grief; many Kurus raised protests; women wailed publicly. And when the Five Brothers left Hastinapura, a large crowd followed them for about a yojana with tears in their eyes'.
Krishna was thoughtful for a while. 'Shvetaketu, I do not understand this. Yudhishthira was appointed Crown Prince by the advice of the venerable Bhishma who is the real power in Hastinapura. How could he allow such a thing to happen?'
'I did not stay in Hastinapura long enough to find out the details. But some people whom I met said that no sooner had Dhritarashtra conveyed his wishes than Yudhishthira cheerfully expressed his willingness to leave Hastinapura. His brothers were against it, but ultimately they submitted to him', said Shvetaketu. Krishna, oppressed by his thoughts, remained silent.
'It is no use your going to Hastinapura now', said Sandipani. 'It would be better for you to go to Kampilya after I have communicated your reply to King Drupada through Shvetaketu. The Five Brothers were highly respected by the Kurus, but now, with Duryodhana as Crown Prince, things will change-and change for the worse. It is not worth your while to go there'.
Krishna looked up. The boyish smile had disappeared from his face. The eyes which had twinkled merrily so far, grew unfathomably deep. 'Gurudeva', said Krishna slowly and deliberately 'we were talking about my appointed task. It has come to me now. I must do it. I will go to Hastinapura'.
'Go to Hastinapura now? Duryodhana will not offer you a welcome', said Sandipani.
'I am not going in order to secure a welcome. With Yudhishthira, Bhima and Arjuna in Hastinapura, Dharma was soaring skywards. Now it is eclipsed. That is why I should go there', said Krishna.
The atmosphere suddenly became tense. 'I can leave Dwaraka in two days' time,' continued Krishna. 'Satyaki will be ready with sixty chariot warriors and the necessary retinue. And I will go by the short-cut through the deserts.'
'But why so hurriedly?' asked Sandipani.
'I feel that something is going to happen to the Five Brothers', replied Krishna. 'I must reach Hastinapura before that.' Krishna’s mind was made up; his eyes were now compelling. The majestic calm of a god had settled on his brow. 'And Gurudeva, don't convey to King Drupada the message that I gave you just now. Send Shvetaketu with me and he will go to Kampilya and deliver another message from me'.
'What message do you want to send?' asked Sandipani.
'Shvetaketu, my message to King Drupada is this', said Krishna decisively. "I am obliged to His Majesty King Drupada, for offering me the hand of Draupadi. If the noble lord of Panchala permits me, I shall come to Kampilya from Hastinapura and discuss the offer personally with him before I place it before my revered lord, Ugrasena, and my Father''. Shvetaketu, get ready'.
Sandipani was struck at the transformation which had come over his pupil. The gay youth had become almost a god of destiny.
'Krishna, my son, you are the best judge of the situation', said Sandipani. 'I will not ask you for your reasons for coming to this decision. If that is the Dharma which lights your path, follow it. My blessing, my son, is always with you.
4. DRONACHARYA'S DECISION
The Yuddha shala-military academy-of Hastinapura, situated on the bank of the Ganga, enclosed a very large area. Warriors were trained there, also arms were fabricated, horses bred, elephants trained and war chariots manufactured.
In the Yuddha shala there was a large mansion. In it there lived Dronacharya, the teacher of the Kuru Princes and the great leader who directed all the military preparations which upheld the Kuru power.
In front of the mansion, under an ancient peepal tree, he sat in deep thought, though he only appeared to be gazing intently at the wavelets which lapped against the bank of the river. He was seated on a sort of throne placed on a small platform and now and again threw parched gram to the fish and tortoises swimming in the shallow waters. Here he always sat, making plans, talking to pupils or giving orders to subordinates. Feeding fish was the only distraction he permitted himself at the time.
As a Brahman of high rank, Dronacharya wore his locks matted and had no jewels or ornaments on his body. Unlike other Brahmans, however, he was dressed in silk. The throne on which he sat was covered with a tiger skin-a tribute to his great guru Parashurama, who was always clad in one. A gold-encrusted bow and arrow adopted by him as the insignia of his office, rested against his knee, also reminiscent of the manner in which his master always kept his famed battle-axe with him when seated.
His beard and locks were dark, thick and well-trimmed. His pointed nose, firm set lips and small but brilliant eyes testified to the fire which burned within his small but sturdy frame.
His forehead was deeply furrowed, for his affairs had come
to a crisis. Just when his ambitions were on the point of being fulfilled, he was faced with a reverse.
Dronacharys was the son of Bharadwaja, a very learned Brahman who, pledged to austere poverty, had taken the traditional vow of not keeping more food in his house than was needed to provide his family for three days. From his childhood, therefore, he had smarted under the privations which his father's self-imposed vow entailed.
When Drona went to the house of his guru to pursue his studies, he had to accept self-imposed poverty-the privilege of a brahmachari, a celibate student. He had to maintain himself by collecting his dally food from generous neighbours, sleep on a deer skin, collect fuel and perform other domestic tasks.
Other Brahman fellow-students who stayed in the guru's house, took pride in living this way, not Drona. He hated poverty, self-imposed though it was. He saw no sense in self-imposed nonpossession and envied some of his fellow-students who came from princely families and who found ways to live in comfort.
Drona was as proud as he was ambitious. He was sure that he had it in him to outstrip all his fellow students in whatever he undertook-now or at any time. But invariably his poverty shook his self-confidence. He had an insistent urge to command, to control, to bend men to his will. He scorned the Brahmanical discipline which gave up worldly gain in the pursuit of high learning and austere self-discipline-vidya and tapas.
With a view to overcoming the helplessness which his poverty imposed upon him, he ingratiated himself with a fellow-student. Yajnasena Drupada, the Prince of Panchala, a generous young man, who had no hesitation in sharing his comforts with him.
However, Drona was not content to be the Prince's friend, he wanted to be his master. With that object in view, he won the confidence and affection of the Prince, whom he came to dominate by his superior intelligence and resourcefulness. Led step by step, Drupada, in effusive friendliness, pledged eternal friendship to the young Brahman.
The Prince was impressionable to a fault. His friendship for Drona soon turned into worshipful devotion. In a fit of childish generosity skilfully engineered, he took a solemn vow with the sacred waters of Ganga in his hands that when he ascended the throne of Panchala he would share his royal authority with his friend.
Some years went by. On the death of his father, young Drupada succeeded to the kingship of Panchala. Drona was happy. His dream had come true. So when he finished his studies, he went to his royal friend and claimed a share of his power; the time, he urged, had come to fulfill the Prince's vow.
The young King had even forgotten the vow that he had taken in a moment of boyish enthusiasm. During the short time that he had been on the throne, he had also been awakened to new values and responsibilities as the king of one of the most powerful kingdoms of the Arya world. But he still held his friend in affection. He welcomed him with lavish presents and even offered to provide an ashram for him or confer an office suited to his learning.
For years, young Drona had nursed the hope that the young Prince would keep his promise when he became king and accept his domination as in their student days. He was, therefore, affronted. He had not come to Kampilya to assume the role of a guru or a minister; he wanted a share of the royal power and was determined to have it.
Drona, therefore, insisted on the pledge being fulfilled. Drupada, now wise in the ways of the world, ridiculed the idea of his fulfilling a silly pledge taken in his teens. He simply could not share his royal power. He held it in conjunction with the chiefs of Panchala and with the ministers who had served his father all their lives. He could not, he pointed out, do such an absurd thing as to share his royal authority with a friend, however beloved he was.
Drona was furious. He charged Drupada with breaking his pledge. In reply, Drupada was polite but firm; he could not fulfil a promise given in ignorance of his responsibilities.
Exasperated, Drona, in the presence of the assembled court, hurled insults at the young King and threatened him with dire penalties. The position became impossible and the King was forced to turn this irate, erstwhile friend of his out of Kampilya.
Drona was not prepared to accept defeat. He decided to acquire the necessary force to coerce Drupada into performing his promise.
He was a hard realist, with a cool, calculating brain. Mere learning, he saw, was not enough to satisfy his ambition. He must, therefore, follow in the footsteps of Parashurama, and, through mastery in arms, acquire a power greater than that of the kings.
Undaunted by hardships, he travelled to the ashram of Parashurama at Shoorparaka, walking through forests, sleeping under the open sky, often going without food. The old Master, pleased with the intelligence of this aspiring young man and his zest to be trained in arms, accepted him as his pupil.
A few years passed by. Drona mastered all that the old Master and his ashram had to teach about the fabrication and use of arms and about the making and winning of wars. Even his guru, the ancient master of the art of war, who had trained generations of pupils, was amazed at the unbending will with which the brilliant young man completed his training.
Drona became a matchless teacher in the art of war. He saw, as few had seen before him, that the era of the battle-axe and the mace, the sword and the trident, had gone, never to return. The bow and arrow were the only weapons of the future. He therefore acquired complete mastery of the flying missile-the arrow which, when he willed, could serve him with the readiness of an intelligent slave.
Before leaving the ashram, Drona married Kripaadevi, the daughter of the teacher in whose house he was residing. Accompanied by her and her brother Kripacharya, also an expert in training young men in arms, he returned to Aryavarta to carve out a career for himself, which would ultimately enable him to avenge Draupada's insult.
With rare self-assurance, the young teacher presented himself to no less a person than Grandfather Bhishma at Hastinapura. Bhishma, himself a pupil of Parashurama, immediately saw the worth of such a competent expert in military affairs and engaged him, and also his brother-in-law, to initiate the Kuru princes into the art of war.
Once appointed as the head of the yuddha shala of the Kurus, Dronacharya bent all his energies to imparting to his pupils the art which he knew so well.
However, that was not enough for his bursting energy, nor was it the aim he had set himself. He rebuilt the Kuru machine of war, reorganized the corps of swordsmen, archers, experts in mace combat, masters of elephants and chariot warriors. He also became an adviser on the affairs of the State to Bhishma, to whom his penetrating intelligence was useful.
His students, the Kuru princes and other cadets, proved worthy of their master. Of them, Bhima and Duryodhana excelled in the art of mace combat; Arjuna, and also Karna, the charioteer's son, became master bowmen. His own son, Aswathama, also became a formidable warrior.
His pupils not only fulfilled his hopes, but helped him to secure the primary aim of his life. Through the miraculous bowmanship of his pupil, Arjuna, he also got King Drupada to fulfil his promise.
In a sudden and unexpected attack, Drupada was captured by Arjuna and laid at his feet. The helpless King of Panchala had to offer an abject apology for breaking his vow, and, by way of ransom, part with a slice of his kingdom to the north of the river Ganga. The fair city of Ahicchatra in this territory now became Dronacharya's to rule.
Drona's ambition waxed higher. He was not content with being the master of Ahicchatra. He had no illusions about kings and held kingship in contempt. He scorned the pomp and ceremony which glorified them into little divinities. His aim now was to be the real master of the Kuru empire, so that the fortunes of many kings might depend on him.
The situation in Hastinapura was to Drona's liking, and he knew how to alter as he wished whatever did not please him. Grandfather Bhishma, in spite of the supreme power he enjoyed, was getting old. King Dhritarashtra lacked both character and vigour. His pupils, the Kuru princes, were divided among themselves; The sons of Dhritarashtra were jealous and distrustful of the sons of Pandu.
This hostility provided him with the necessary opportunity to manipulate things as he liked.
The Five Brothers--the Pandavas--all able in their own way, were his supporters. Of them, Arjuna was the most devoted. Duryodhana and his brothers-the sons of Dhritarashtra-though loyal to him in a sense, were intrinsically unreliable, but he had seen to it that his fiery son, Aswatthama, should be Duroyodhana's close associate.
Drona knew that only the Five Brothers could extend the Kuru empire to the ends of the earth. Yudhishthira, righteous and noble, would make a very good emperor, Bhima and Arjuna were formidable warriors. Nakula knew the art of breeding and training horses for war, as no one else did. Sahadeva was learned, wise and farsighted. And he fondly hoped that in view of their ungrudging loyalty to him, he would be the master of the situation when they came to power.
So, when the time came, Drona heartily approved of Grandfather Bhishma's suggestion that Yudhishthira should be appointed the yuvaraja, the Crown Prince. He was the wisest of all the Kuru princes and loved by all, and, as the eldest son of the late King Pandu, he was justly entitled to succeed to the throne.
No sooner had Yudhishthira become the Crown Prince, than he, in his very conscientious way, took upon himself all the responsibilities of the office. He commanded the full confidence of Bhishma in the affairs of State and acquired the respect of all the ministers, particularly of Vidura, the wisest of them.
When Yudhishthira was appointed yuvaraja, Drona felt that he had now become all-powerful, more powerful than Bhishma himself.
However, he was annoyed at Yudhishthira's attitude. As a yuvaraja, he was no longer the docile pupil which he had been in the yuddha shala. He was a monarch, with the self-confidence of one who knew his business and with an honesty of purpose which could not be deflected by personal loyalties. No doubt, when he had military affairs to discuss, he took his teacher into confidence.