BHEESHMA AND DRONA

By “KETAKI”

Bheeshma: You are welcome to Hastina. Brother mine.

Drona: How, now, ‘brother’? You, my lord, are a Kshatriya; the uncrowned monarch of this Kuru Land; the son of divine Ganga; a grandchild of Himavan himself. I am but a poor Brahmin, friendless, penniless. Is it not a laughing matter when you call me ‘brother’!

Bheeshma: Acharya Bhargava is your Guru, and mine too. What dread anger is it, my friend, that sits on your brow like Vajra in the hands of Indra? When you pronounce the word ‘Kshatriya’ your frame trembles in anger: your lips curl up in scorn and flames, as of fire, leap from your eyes. Perhaps, when he taught you archery, my Guru, Jaamadagni, taught yon his hatred of the Kshatriyas too! May I know what troubles you?

Drona: You may. I have been greatly hurt: pained: insulted by a Kshatriya and my mind is still unhinged as a result of that. You must have heard of Yagnasena, the son of Prishatha. He was my friend and playmate. Once, in an outburst of affection he told me, “When my father passes away and I become King, I will be the lord of immense lands and wealth. Come to me then, and I will share my good fortune with you.” Days passed by, Years too. I was a poor Brahmin with a wife and son. My powerful son is called Aswatthama. When he was a child, he one day came to his mother and said “Mother, all my friends talk about something called milk. They say it has a beautiful taste. Mother, give me some milk.” She burst into tears and when I came home, I found my child sleeping on her lap, his hair drenched with her tears. I was shocked and I asked her the reason. She told me. I felt unhappy too. But suddenly I remembered the words of Drupada. I cheered her up saying, “Weep not, Kripi. Our days of poverty are at an end. I heard that my friend, Yagnasena, is now King of Panchala. Let us go to him. He will give me cows and wealth and we can be happy”. So I went to the court of The Panchala King. He refused to recognize me. He said no friendship was possible between a king and a beggar. Full of pain and anger I have come away from there. From now on, only one thing matters to me, and that is my revenge. My end and aim is now to train a young Kshatriya in the art of archery and ask him to fight my foe, Yagnasena, and win too! I have altered my profession from that of a. Brahmin to that of a Kshatriya.

Bheeshma: Why! Methinks you have come to the right place! I have any number of grandsons–running into hundreds, their veins brimming with lusty Kshatriya blood. They can all be your pupils, and in a few years the young veins which are like sap-filled young tendrils will be turned into whipcords filled with Kshatriya blood, and methinks you can pick and choose from them the youth who can pay you your Gurudakshina.¹ Come, I will show them to you, the scions of the Kuru race, born of the Moon!

Drona: Indeed, I am honoured!

Bheeshma: Nay, do not say so. Mine is the privilege of leading the Master to the slaughter-house.

Drona: Slaughter-house! What mean you, my Lord?

Bheeshma: Why! The Ayudhasala! That is where the young Princes, the future Kings of the Kuru race are being trained in the art of killing each other. Do you not know the future of Bharata? Annihilation! Slaughter of Man by Man! And you, Acharya, are the fittest person to train them in the art of hatred, filled to the brim, as you are yourself, with hatred.

Drona: I deserve the reproof. But why should they destroy each other? They are all brothers!

Bheeshma: Brothers! Bah! Wise as you are, Acharya, you are not wise enough! The need for fire is not there when brothers and cousins strive for kingship!...But all that is yet to come. Your duty and mine too, of course, is to close our eyes to the future and live in the present, which is hard enough. But come, let us hasten to the Ayudhasala before the Sun sets.

(Some years later)

Drona: Your dread prophecy is fulfilled, Gangeya.

Bheeshma: Yes. My dread prophecy. Methought that it would be a different kind of annihilation. I thought that Dharma ² still lived in this sinful world and that Suyodhana and his brothers would be destroyed. It is evident that I am wrong.

Drona: If Saubala had not been here, young Suyodhana would not have had a chance to destroy the Pandava Princes.

Bheeshma: Yes: Sakuni is the proverbial evil star, sweeping across the vision of Suyodhana, blinds his sense of justice and fair play.

Drona: Indeed, it is true. By nature, Suyodhana is very generous. Do you not remember, my lord, the day of the tournament of Archery, when he crowned Karna King of Anga?

Bheeshma: I have not forgotten that incident. It was a regal gesture on his part. The day is vivid in my memory. The crowd was mad with enthusiasm at seeing Arjuna’s prowess in archery. Then, all on a sudden, as though my Lord the Sun had descended to the Earth, there enter the arena, this glowing youth with the divine Kavacha and Kundala. ³ The people became spell-bound. He walked like a panther, he looked as noble as a lion, and he challenged Arjuna in insolent terms. Suyodhana lifted up his head like a king cobra uncoiling himself. Arjuna was hurt: Bheema was angry: Yudhishtira was nervous. Why, so were you!

Drona: I was afraid that–

Beeshma: I know; I know! All your best laid plans to make Arjuna the hero of the day threatened to go awry, and Arjuna stood fair to be but a foil to this new archer, a pupil of Bhagavan Bhargava hjmself, as he claimed to be.

Drona: Kripa saved the situation for me. He wanted to know the royal lineage to which the new-comer belonged. He said: “The Pandava, Arjuna, Son of Pritha, a Prince of the Kuru race will fight with you. Will you also announce who your father and mother are, and of what family you are an ornament? Princes do not fight with men of unknown lineage.”

Beeshma: Karna’s face, then, drooped like a lotus at sunset and it was my Suyodhana who said: “Kings are of three kinds. There are kings because they come of good families; there are Kings because of their powers; there are kings because they are heroes. If Arjuna will not fight with one who is not a king, I will, this very instant, instal Karna as Lord of Anga.” With these grand words, Suyodhana placed on Kama’s head his own golden crown fretted with glittering gems, and placed on his shoulder his quiver full of arrows, and his jewelled sword he placed in Karna’s right hand. I felt so proud of my dear Suyodhana, tears ran down my cheeks.

Karna, with his voice choked with unshed tears said: “What service can I do in return for this immense kindness of yours, my Lord?” The ever noble Duryodhana smiled and said: “Give me your mighty heart and its love. I ask for nothing more.” “You have annexed it already,” said Kama, and with his body and clothes drenched with the Coronation bath, Karna embraced Duryodhana.

Drona: Now it seems so long back. I thought that all the rivalry was at an end when that tournament came to an end. I was wrong. Why should Saubala have incited the young Prince to this–this unbelievably dastardly act? Dhritarashtra should have, and could have prevented it.

Beeshma: My good friend, you are still a simple Brahmin though you do profess to be a Kshatriya! It was the old, blind King who sent the young Pandavas to Varanavata. I know of a certain talk between the father and son. Yudhishtira’s becoming the heir-apparent made the people love him more. They wanted him as their king. He had endeared himself to everyone by his sweet and noble nature. Of course this made Suyodhaua greatly jealous: with Sakuni to startle him from his lethargy, with Bheema rousing his temper at the slightest cause, with the ever-increasing strife between Arjuna and his beloved Karna becoming more and more apparent, is it strange that the mind of that young impressionable child became poisoned slowly, but very surely? Sakuni incited him to a large extent no doubt. He went to his father one day when he was alone, and poured out his grievances to that blind and inefficient Dhritarashtra. Dhritarashtra, as you must have noticed, is a very complex character. He is very avaricious: at the same time, he is also afraid. Afraid in this sense–he wants to avoid, if possible, being known as the wrong doer. Duryodhana went on with his talk. He went on to say, “I am greatly afraid of this growing popularity of my hated cousins. I want you to exile them.” His father would not at first listen. He said: “My son, you do not know what you are saying. The people and my ministers are fond of Pandu’s son. They are very proud of him. If anything should happen to Yudhishtira, we will he destroyed.” Suyodhana said: “Of course I know that. The loyalty of the people depends on the benefits they reap from their king. Send away the Pandavas and their mother for some time. While they are absent, I will woo the people with my good work. I am sure to endear myself to them. The exile can be effected by some gentle means. You are his uncle, and Yudhishtira has never disobeyed your commands. Make it appear as though you are his well-wisher and send them all to Varanavata.”

Dhritarashtra was still dubious. “The idea is sinful, but let it be. How will Bheeshma, Drona, Kripa, and Vidura take the proposal of the exile?” Suyodhana, well-tutored by evil Sakuni, had anticipated the question. “Bheeshma is impartial: indeed, he is indifferent. Aswatthama is my friend. Drona cannot team up with the opposite party when his son is on my side. Kripa naturally, must side with these two. Only Vidura is a confirmed ally of the Pandavas. But what can one low-born man do? Send away Kunti and her five sons to Varanavata. The rest is in my hands.” Dhritarashtra guessed the rest and did not ask. The evil plan succeeded and Yudhishtira obeyed his commands implicitly. Poor, ill-used princes. I knew of this talk only a few days back. Or else this would never have happened.

Drona: To call that house of fire by the name ‘Siva’–it makes me shudder to think of the fate of the victims on that night when it was burnt down. When the Pandava princes were leaving our Hastinavati, some people went to Yudhishtira and tried to tell him that he was foolish in submitting to this sudden exile. The young prince was firm. His parting words were, “To honour and obey my elders is the one rule that I have always followed. My father has asked me to go there, to Varanavata. He shall not he disobeyed. I will go. Please bless us and let us go.” Thinking of them takes me back so many years. Half-forgotten incidents come back to my mind and it seems to have happened yesterday. My heart bleeds when I think of my beloved pupil, Partha. He was the essential man of Action, ‘Kriya.’ You must have heard of the crocodile which tackled me one day when I was bathing in the Ganges.

Beeshma: A typical incident to show off Arjuna to advantage!

Drona: You see through and through the actions of men. You suggest that I was partial to Partha. Perhaps. How could one help it? He was the only person who loved archery as an art in itself. He was such a willing pupil. I will explain to you what I mean. I once had a bird made. It was quite life-like. I had it placed on almost the topmost branch of a tree. I then called my pupils one by one and, showing the bird to them, asked them to shoot its head. Yudhishtira was one of the first to come. He had the bow and arrow in readiness. He was waiting for my word of command “Shoot” “What do you see?” I asked him. “Do you see the tree and the branch and the bird/” He replied “Yes”. I said, “Then you are not going to hit the bird” and sent him away. The same thing happened in case of all the boys who were called. Then I called Arjuna, and put the same question. “I see the bird” he replied. After some time I put the same question. “I see the head of the bird” said Partha. I then said “Shoot” and the head rolled down. The other pupils were bewildered. How could they understand what I meant?

Bheeshma: Yea, I see what you mean. I remember you taught Arjuna the great “Brahmasiras Astra” after the episode of the crocodile.

Drona: Yes. It was after all these incidents that Partha paid me my Gurudakshina. You know he captured Drupada alive and brought him to me. The great Drupada gave a terrible resistance. But my Arjuna was too much for him. Yudhishtira remained with me and the other four proceeded towards Drupada’s city. Nakula and Sahdeva were his ‘Chakra-Rakshakas’: they supported his wings, and as usual, Bheemasena went in advance. Arjuna fought his way through, jumped into the chariot of King Drupada. Overpowering him he carried him to his own chariot and returned to me with the royal booty.

Bheeshma: Dhrishtadyumna and Draupadi owe their existence to this incident.

Drona: Owe their existence to this incident? But how?

Bheeshma: After this event only two emotions found place in the heart of Drupada: admiration for Arjuna and his heroism; hatred for you. So he performed a sacrifice with the help of the great Purohits, Yaja and Upayaja. He wanted a son and a daughter. The son, to kill you, and the daughter he wanted to give to Arjuna. Out of the sacrificial fire there rose up the twins, the son was called Dhrishtadyumna and the daughter was called Krishna. She is dark and beautiful, you know.

Drona: I knew nothing of the purpose of the birth of the twins. I did know that Drupada had two children, nothing more.

Bheeshma: Drupada’s grief knew no bounds when he heard that the Pandavas had been destroyed by fire. He wants to give his daughter to an archer who is at least half as skilful as Partha. He has, therefore, arranged an intricate ‘Matsya Yantra’. He has made an announcement that the person who can tackle the Yantra with success, can claim lovely Krishna for bride. Our young princes are leaving for the Panchala Kingdom tomorrow. Would you care to go with them?

Drona: No, my lord, though I am interested in this ‘Matsya yantra’. ⁴ Karna, perhaps may be able to deal with it. No one else has the skill.

Bheeshma: I think so too. Let us wait and see. I am feeling strangely exhilarated. It is an unusual thing to happen to me. I was thinking that I had outgrown this emotional phase. But I find I have not. I feel as though some great event is waiting in the womb of time, and these troubled times are the painful fore-runners of it. Yet, with the end of the Pandavas, there is nothing left remarkable, to make living worthwhile.

Drona: You might leave everything and look for peace in the great solitudes of the mountains. Ganga-mata, and Himavan will cool your fevered brows and give you peace.

Bheeshma: My friend, that is the thing that I ache for and that is the one thing that has been denied me. The burden that I am made to bear is far different from those of others. But that is beside the point. Let us go to the Court where the young Kurus are even now teasing Karna about the Swayamvara.

Drona: Yes. Let us.

¹ Offering to the Teacher.

² The Law of Righteousness.

³ Armour and ear-rings

⁴ The fish-target.

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