The Mahabharata: A Modern Rendering (2 Vols.), page 150
A radiant Krishna watches his cousin assume crisp control * . Later, that evening, last rites for those that died in the war are performed in the palace: grave rituals. When they are over, Yudhishtira and his brothers come to Krishna, who has gone to Arjuna’s palace, even like a tiger entering his cave. Before all the people, Yudhishtira folds his hands to the Avatara and says, “My Lord, you have given me back my fathers’ kingdom. You shared our sorrow during the years of our exile, and without you, we would never have won the war. Every time we faced a crisis, or an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, you showed us the way ahead.” His voice chokes. “Lord, for our sake, you who are the eternal Brahman assumed this human form. You were Arjuna’s sarathy during the war. I have only my bhakti to offer you, Krishna. This is just the beginning of our need for you. I beg you, remain with us always.”
Yudhishtira, emperor of the world, washes Krishna’s feet and sprinkles his own head with the water. He prostrates himself before the Avatara. Smiling, Krishna raises him up, and then, one by one, the other Pandavas, as they also worship him with sasthanga namaskara, the prostration of eight limbs.
*Various palaces are given to the brothers: Yudhishtira has Dhritarashtra’s palace, Bheema enters Duryodhana’s, Arjuna gets Dusasana’s, as magnificent, Nakula has Durmarshana’s palace, even grander, and Sahadeva moves into Durmukha’s palace.
THREE
The dying patriarch
THE NEXT MORNING, WITH THE SUN, YUDHISHTIRA COMES TO KRISHNA’S apartment. He finds his cousin pensive. The Pandava says, “Did you have a restful night, my Lord? But you seem disturbed, Krishna, are you unwell?”
Krishna smiles at him, and shakes his head. He makes no reply immediately. Then, slowly, he says, “I was thinking of your Pitama Bheeshma. He will not live much longer, Yudhishtira, and I hear him calling me. When Bheeshma dies, all his wisdom will vanish with him. We must go to him before that happens. You must learn whatever he has to teach you about your dharma as a king. Bheeshma’s wisdom is a priceless treasure. He must share it with you before he leaves us.”
Yudhishtira says, “Let us go at once, Krishna, together.”
Satyaki comes in just then. Krishna says to him, “Tell Daruka to prepare my chariot, and you prepare to ride with us. We are going to Kurukshetra to see Bheeshma.”
They set out, Yudhishtira and his brothers, Satyaki and Krishna. Kurukshetra lies bare before them, now that its corpses have been removed and burned. It is difficult to believe, just days ago, the greatest of all wars was fought here. At the edge of the fateful field, like another sun setting over the earth, Bheeshma lies dying.
Krishna and the Pandavas alight from their chariots, and make their way to the patriarch on his bed of arrows. Many mysterious munis, whom none of them has ever seen before, sit around Bheeshma, some silently in dhyana, others softly chanting arcane mantras that have all but passed out of the world. Krishna approaches the Kuru grandsire first, and kneeling beside him, takes his hand. Bheeshma’s eyes flicker open; they are sea-like, and full of pain. He sees Krishna at his side, and Bheeshma’s eyes flare with light, his face is lit by a smile.
Krishna says, also smiling, “Oh, my lord, how do you bear such pain? Why, if a needle pricks me, I cannot stand it! Here you are with a hundred arrows lodged in your body, and you have been lying on them for so long. There is no one like you in all the world, no one with such a mighty will, Devavrata. Not just a will, Bheeshma, but wisdom also. Brihaspati, Sukra, Vasishta and Markandeya were your gurus, and you have always walked the way of dharma. Never in time has a greater man lived on this earth, and none ever shall.
Your grandson Yudhishtira has been crowned king in Hastinapura; he has come to see you with his brothers. Now, more than ever, Yudhishtira has need of your wisdom. He is shaken by all the killing and dying he saw on Kurukshetra. He is full of sorrow, and needs you to comfort him. It is just fifty-six days until uttarayana. When you die, all your wisdom will disappear from the world forever, unless you leave something of what you know with Yudhishtira. Your grandsons have come to you: tell them what you know about dharma, artha and yoga.”
Again, the smile touches Bheeshma’s face. With an effort, he begins to speak, “You are the Paramatman who pervades this universe: you tell me what I should do. I do not know how much longer I will live. This pain has robbed me of the count of time. I have discharged my debt to Satyavati. I can die in peace now. I am only waiting for Surya’s chariot to change its course in the sky.”
He pauses; then, another light is in his eyes. He takes Krishna’s hand and says, “My Lord, I want to see your Viswarupa before I die. Won’t you show yourself to me?”
“At the end of fifty-six days, when you leave your body, I will be at your side. But first, you have one final task left: you must pass your wisdom on to Yudhishtira.”
Bheeshma laughs. “Krishna, you mock me! How can I speak of dharma, artha or yoga when you are here with us: you who are the beginning and the end of all knowledge? Dare a sishya hold forth in his guru’s presence? And then, these arrows fill me with agony. I can hardly speak.”
“You are too modest, Bheeshma,” says Krishna. “You must teach Yudhishtira everything you know.”
“But I am so weak. I can hardly bear the pain I am in; to speak at any length would be impossible. Besides, my memory has faded, and you want me to remember what I learnt when I was a boy. Forgive me, Krishna, but I don’t have the strength for this final task.”
The Avatara’s body shines. He speaks as softly as before, but there is unearthly authority in his voice. Krishna says, “I grant you a boon: from this moment, until you die, you will feel no pain. Your memory will be as clear as the heart of a rishi. Your mind will be sharp as a sword, Bheeshma, to sever any knot that binds Yudhishtira’s heart.”
It is told the sky showered down a petal-rain on Krishna and Bheeshma. A wave of relief floods Bheeshma, as all his pain vanishes. Krishna squeezes the Kuru ancient’s hand, and then he rises, saying, “We will leave you to collect your thoughts. But we will return early tomorrow to hear your wisdom.”
That night is the first restful one Krishna has spent in a long time. He sleeps deeply, a dreamless slumber. Early next morning, he sends Satyaki to Yudhishtira. Soon, they are ready to set out again for Kurukshetra. An hour after dawn, the Pandavas and Krishna arrive on the field. Bheeshma lies on it like the rising sun. He has not felt a twinge of pain since Krishna blessed him, and he too has spent a restful night.
Bheeshma feels detached from his body, free to range through the labyrinths of his days. The past is clear before him in all its fabulous richness; the book of his life is his to read from at will. Indeed, most of the night Bheeshma has leafed through that marvellous tome as he pleased. There is so much he sees plainly now, which was obscured before. Devavrata sees his life for the miracle it has been, every symphonious moment.
Bheeshma welcomes Krishna in a stronger voice. Yudhishtira and his brothers still linger in the background. Narada, who is at Bheeshma’s side, says, “Let Yudhishtira ask whatever he has to quickly. Time flits by, and Bheeshma will not live long.”
Before Krishna can call Yudhishtira closer, Bheeshma says, “Krishna, I am free of pain, and my mind is keen and clear. I think I can answer any questions Yudhishtira has for me. But there is something I want to know. You can teach the dharma better than I can. Why have you chosen to entrust this task to me?”
Gently Krishna says, “Perhaps you are right, Bheeshma, and I can tell Yudhishtira what he needs to know. But I thought, let Bheeshma’s name be a legend forever in the world. Let men hear his wisdom and count it as being equal to the Vedas. What you say to your grandson shall be immortal, and men will live their lives by it. A man is said to live in the world for as long as his fame does. You are the greatest man ever to grace the earth, and I want your spirit to be with humankind forever. So, I ask you to teach the dharma to Yudhishtira and his brothers.”
Tears start down Bheeshma’s face, as he listens to the Avatara and feels his love upon him. Bheeshma is speechless for that stupendous love. At last, slowly, the Kuru patriarch says, “Let Yudhishtira ask me whatever he wants. I will be happy to tell him anything I know.”
“Yudhishtira is afraid to approach you. He thinks you might blame him for what happened during the war.”
Bheeshma raises his voice and calls Yudhishtira. When the Pandava comes hesitantly, and kneels at his side, Bheeshma lays both his hands on his head, blessing him. Laughing, the patriarch says, “Why should you be afraid to come to your Pitama? I know your noble heart; I blame you for nothing. My child, every kshatriya’s dharma is to fight and kill his enemies, whoever they may be. You have only followed your dharma; why should you feel guilty? Call your brothers also, and ask me whatever you want. I learnt what I know from unworldly masters, long ago. And I will tell you everything I learnt: by the grace of this immortal one who has come among us, and is pleased to call himself Krishna.”
FOUR
Bheeshma’s wisdom *
THE KURU SOVEREIGN YUDH1SHTIRA ASKS HIS GRANDSIRE BHEESHMA, lying on his bed of arrows, “I have heard that a king’s is the highest dharma. Pitama, I would learn my dharma from you.”
Bheeshma says, “A king’s first dharma is to worship the Gods, and to honour brahmanas who are illumined men. But he himself should always be a karma yogin, a man of deeds. There are those that say destiny is all-important in a king’s life. Karma comes first, Yudhishtira. Destiny is important, but his own actions shape a king’s destiny. Indeed, I would even say a king’s deeds are more powerful than destiny.
“The king’s second dharma is to be truthful. If you are a man of truth, your subjects will honour you, trust you. A king must be above reproach. He must be restrained, humble and righteous. He must be a master of his passions.
“Justice must be like breathing to him: it must come naturally. As for his weaknesses, he must know how to conceal them, to be perfectly secretive about them. He must know his enemies’ weaknesses, and hardly let them know he does. A king’s plans must be opaque, known only to himself and, perhaps, one or two counsellors whom he trusts.
“A king’s demeanour should be unafraid and straightforward. He must not be too mild. He will be disregarded if he is, and his subjects will have no respect for him. That does not mean he should be harsh or tyrannical, and that his people should be unduly frightened of him.
“Most of all, a king must know how to choose those who serve him. He should be a judge of men, and know whom he can trust and who are dangerous. Compassion must be part of the good king, but never weakness. If he is weak, the lowest men will take advantage of him.
“Vigilance is integral to a king’s every moment. He must always be alert, and study both his friends and his enemies. Above all, he must remember his first duty is towards his subjects. He must nurture them as a mother does the child in her womb. His dharma is never to please himself at his people’s expense. As a mother is with her child, a king should be with his people: their welfare should be his only concern.
“A king must be the loneliest man in the land. He must not share his inmost thoughts with anyone, not even his closest advisors. He must be adept at dealing with the stronger enemy, the equal, and the weaker one. He must know how to employ spies and sow dissension in his enemy’s city, to divide those that serve his enemy. He should know how to bribe his enemy’s soldiers and officials, make them betray their master.
“A king should speak pleasantly at all times. He should surround himself with those that are as noble as he is, whose natures and thoughts concur with his own. Indeed, the only difference between himself and those that serve him should be the crown on his head.
“The noblest king is the one in whose country the subjects are like children in their father’s house. They are contented, because it is their own home they are living in. There is no deceit or pretence among them, no envy or dishonesty.
“The essence of a king’s dharma is to secure his subjects’ prosperity, their happiness. There is no harder task on earth, and he must use varied methods to achieve his ends. Most important are the men he appoints to positions of power. They must be honest and sincere men, yet he should never trust them entirely. The treasury must always be full, for the king’s power stems from his wealth, as well. He must always have a powerful army to protect his kingdom, for that, too, is the secret of his strength. He must be a master of creating discord in his enemies’ kingdoms, because therein also lies his strength. He should be wary and always on his guard against his enemy, who would do the same to him: create dissension within his country, his very court.
“The king is the justice in the land. He is the one who metes out punishment to wrongdoers, and protects the righteous. He should be honest; but he must know the ways of the world, how to fight fire with fire. He can never afford to be a simpleton. And yet, the world must never see him as being other than candid and straightforward.”
Thus, Bheeshma of the Kurus discourses on the dharma of a king to Yudhishtira. He dwells on the many nuances and secrets of kingship, and they soon find the day has flown by and the sun is sinking in the west. Yudhishtira takes his Pitama’s hand and says, “You must rest now. I will return, first thing in the morning. There is so much I have to ask you still.”
Bheeshma lays his palm on Yudhishtira’s head. He shuts his eyes, and peace steals over him. He falls into a deep, healing sleep.
The next morning, Yudhishtira and his brothers arrive with the sun. Yudhishtira has a question for his grandsire. “Pitama, how does a king come to be called Rajan? He is just a man like all other men. He is subject to joy and grief. His mind and his senses are like those of other men. His lives for as long as other men do. Among his subjects, are men that are his superiors in intellect, in wisdom and courage. Yet, the king rules all the others. Why is one man elevated to being a Rajan, Pitama?”
Bheeshma says, “Long ago, in the first ages of krita and treta, there were no kings or kingdoms. The world was one, and all men lived as one, in love, sharing the plenitude of the earth. The pristine spaces of nature were man’s inheritance and he was fulfilled in them, he rejoiced in them. All men were like brothers; they cared for one another as parts of themselves.
“As time advanced, evil crept into the hearts of men. Covetousness was the first darkness to cloud the light of men’s minds: they became greedy, and wanted possessions. Ancient man was free of such possessiveness; he knew his natural place in the order of things, and exulted in time and its subtle fruit of wisdom and delight.
“The first step towards darkness was covetousness, but lust was not far behind. Lust never hunts alone; wrath arrived with it. The age grew dark, and anarchy and confusion swept the world. The original Veda vanished from the lips and the minds of men; dharma vanished with the Veda. The guardians of the world, the Devas, took panic and came trembling before their sire Brahma in his sabha.
“Indra cried, ‘Lord, the world you created is plunging towards destruction. You must save it.’
“It was then that Brahma composed the Neeti Shastra, an interminable treatise on conduct. It contained a hundred thousand edicts. So far, men had been pure, and had needed no more than their untainted natures to be their guru. Now they were corrupted, their hearts had grown dark; they had need of a law outside themselves. When there is a law, someone must enforce that law. For the first time, men were divided into rulers and the ruled.
“The Neeti Shastra dealt with the four concerns of human life: dharma, artha, kama and moksha. Brahma dwelt on these, at length. An important part of the Neeti Shastra dealt with crime and its punishment: what constituted a crime and how each crime should be punished. There were two kinds of punishment the Shastra dealt with, the open and the secret punishment. It dealt, for the first time, with traders and trade, and the conservation of wealth. It dealt with rishis and tapasya. It spoke of thieves and other criminals, and how they should be treated.
“Another section of the Neeti Shastra dwelt on religious observances and rituals, and the conduct of the various officials in the kingdom: of counsellors, spies, ambassadors, and the method of conciliation.
“Brahma composed that Shastra in a mere moment, and he said, ‘Let this be called the Dandaneeti, the way of chastisement. There has never been crime or punishment before in the world. Now, there is already crime, and let there be punishment as well.’
“The treatise was studied and abridged by the great Gods, Siva being the first. Just before it was given to men, the wise Sukra saw it. He knew men’s lives were short, and most of them would hardly have the time to study such a voluminous Shastra. Sukra pared the original Dandaneeti down to its present form of a thousand essential edicts. Then, the Devas brought the tract to the Lord Vishnu who lies upon eternity’s ocean of bliss. They said to him, ‘Lord, show us a man on earth worthy of ruling all other men.’
“Vishnu said to them, ‘I will enter the body of one man. He and his sons shall be lords of the earth.’
“A man called Vena was chosen to be king. From Vena’s right arm, a son was born and he was as glorious as Indra. He was born wearing a coat of mail, and with all the occult and earthly weapons. He was born knowing the Vedas and the Shastras, the art of war and of kingship, and all the other arts, too. His name was Prithu and the rishis made him king of the world. Men said, in those days, that Prithu was the eighth son of Vishnu himself.
“Prithu levelled the uneven earth. Vishnu and the Devas came down to witness the coronation of Prithu. Bhumidevi came as a Goddess bearing treasures of gold and jewels for King Prithu. Prithu asked her to be a cow, and he milked her for the seven foods, which all living creatures would eat. Prithu was the lord not only of men, but also of the forests and the trees, and the birds and beasts in them.
