The Mahabharata: A Modern Rendering (2 Vols.), page 157
Krishna knows his own time has come.
1See Appendix.
TWO
Krishna
IN A TIDE OF MEMORIES, HE SEES HIS LIFE FLIT BEFORE HIS EYES. AFTER the white snake enters the sea, Krishna roams the forest around Prabhasa in a daze. It is part of Gandhari’s curse coming true: that he would wander the earth, alone. He ranges a whole life in vast, crystalline remembrance.
Arjuna sits alone in his apartment in Hastinapura. All at once, he begins to think of Krishna. The Pandava’s heart races, and he hears Krishna’s voice, ‘Go and lie down, Arjuna. I want to speak to you.’
Arjuna goes to his bed. As soon as he lies on it, he falls asleep. In a dream Krishna comes to him, and takes his hand. ‘Arjuna, do you remember I once told you that all things in this world are born to serve a purpose? And when each one’s purpose is served, it passes on.’
‘You said that when my chariot burned down after the war.’
‘And so it is with men. When a man has served every purpose he is born for, he doesn’t live another moment in the world, but death comes for him.’
‘Yes, you told me, Krishna.’
Krishna’s eyes are bright in Arjuna’s dream. ‘Arjuna, all that I came for has been accomplished. It is time for me to go.’
‘My Lord!’
‘You must also come soon, Arjuna. We cannot be apart, you and I.’
‘I don’t understand what you mean.’
‘I wanted to see you once, before I went. Now I can go in peace.’
A smile lights the Avatara’s face, as he fades from Arjuna’s dream, and the Pandava awakes.
His soul in tumult, Krishna runs through the forest and arrives back at the aswattha tree under which Balarama was transformed. With a sigh, he sinks down on the ground. With every moment now, he feels his death draw nearer; he can feel its breath on his neck. Krishna lies on the earth in shavasana, the posture of the dead, and the Brahman, the timeless Spirit, washes over him in an infinite swell. He yokes himself deeply into that Godhead and is lost in samadhi.
Jara, the hunter, is out looking for a deer. From a distance, he sees Krishna’s feet around the bole of the tree under which the Dark One lies. Jara sees the feet red with forest earth and blood from the slaughter of the Yadavas. The old hunter thinks he is seeing a red hind, and he stalks the crimsoned feet. When he is within range, he raises his rough bow, and taking careful aim, looses his fateful arrow. The Muni Durvasa had once blessed Krishna that every part of his body would be invulnerable to all weapons, save the soles of his feet. The arrowhead made from the sliver of the accursed club flares into the sole of the Dark One’s foot, piercing the base of the thumb toe. Krishna roars in shock, as fate’s shaft plunges agony through him.
Jara comes running to hear that cry. Gasping to see Krishna, knowing him at once from rumour, the hunter falls on his face before the dying Avatara. Krishna places his hand on the wild man’s head, and tells him, “It is only as I willed it, and, my friend, you have set me free. Your mission in the world is fulfilled, and you will find swarga for what you have done today.”
Sobbing, the hunter takes Krishna’s head onto his lap. The Avatara’s face is serene, wreathed in a smile. Next moment, he is dead. His spirit issues from his body, and makes all the earth glow mysteriously, as it courses into heaven, where Indra, the Aswins, Rudra, the adityas, the vasus, the viswedevas, devarishis, and siddhas come to receive him. Greeting them, he ascends beyond, as Vishnu Narayana, into his own, most exalted realm.
Then, the very world is dim: like a flower that has lost its fragrance, like a body from which the soul has gone. At that moment, the sacred river, the golden Saraswati, also vanishes from the earth forever; and, black lightning into the void Krishna leaves, the kali yuga flashes into the world, entering her fully.
THREE
Arjuna’s anguish
RIDING ALL NIGHT WITH THE WIND THAT FLOWS LIKE A DARK RIVER across Bharatavarsha, Daruka arrives in Hastinapura early the next day. He runs into the sabha, cries, “Gandhari’s curse has come true, the Yadavas are all dead!” and falls unconscious before the throne. Yudhishtira’s world crumbles, and the Kuru king also faints. The other Pandavas sit petrified. When Daruka revives, he tells them that Krishna wanted Arjuna to ride to Dwaraka and take charge of the Yadava women and children.
Arjuna realizes the meaning of his dream. He calls for his chariot and sets out with Daruka. They come to Prabhasa first, and find the bloody remains of the Yadavas. Arjuna sees Satyaki, Pradyumna, Aniruddha, Samba and the others. They are queerly preserved in death, no scavenger has touched their corpses. Controlling himself as best he can, he says in a whisper, “Where are Krishna and Balarama?”
Daruka leads him to the giant aswattha. They see the trail in the sand where the white serpent slid into the sea. There is no sign of either Krishna or his brother. They seek them in vain, for a time, then Daruka says, “We must ride to Dwaraka, the women will have panicked.”
Suddenly, a terrible cry breaks out of Arjuna. Around the massive bole of the tree, he sees Krishna lying dead, a familiar smile still on his lips. Arjuna falls on the ground and clasps the blue body. In a while, Daruka says quietly, “My lord, we must go to Dwaraka.”
Sixteen thousand women wait on the palace steps, and, when they see Arjuna’s chariot drive up, and the Pandava alight from it, they begin to wail loudly. Slowly, Arjuna climbs the marble steps, and the sobbing women lead him in. There, he sees Rukmini and Satyabhama, and the mighty Arjuna swoons. Krishna’s women carry him on to a couch. The kshatriya revives slowly; but he cannot speak and tears stream down his face. He sits mute, crying, with Krishna’s queens around him.
At last, he rises and goes to meet Vasudeva. When Krishna’s father sees the Pandava, he puts his arms around him and sobs. Arjuna spends some time with Vasudeva, and the old man says sadly, “Your sishyas Satyaki and Pradyumna are dead. They began the fighting. But, my son, the fault wasn’t theirs: it was Gandhari and the rishis’ curses that killed them. It was fate. Krishna did nothing to stop the carnage. He watched his sons and his people kill one another, and did nothing to stop them.”
Vasudeva speaks haltingly, deep age and sorrow in his voice. After a moment’s pause, he says, “Arjuna, I have no wish to live any more. I commit our women and children to your care.”
Arjuna says, “I cannot live in this world without Krishna, and I am sure Yudhishtira feels the same. I will take the women and children and the old people to Indraprastha with me. Allow me, uncle, I must find the ministers and make the arrangements.”
Arjuna meets with the elderly courtiers who did not go to Prabhasa. He tells them, “Seven days from now, you must leave Dwaraka forever. Take whatever gold you can with you. In Indraprastha, we will crown Krishna’s grandson, Vajra, king of the Yadavas.”
That night, Arjuna lies in his precious cousin’s bed, while memories bear him far away. He thinks of the first time he saw Krishna, it was after Draupadi’s swayamvara; and all the other times, brilliant and dangerous, which they shared. Arjuna lies awake through the night in lonely vigil. He knows the meaning has gone out of his life, and there is nothing left to live for.
The next morning, he has the corpses of all the Yadavas, Krishna’s among them, brought to Dwaraka to be cremated. With his own hand, he touches alight the Dark One’s pyre, while the sea rises to lash the ocean-city’s walls. Four of Krishna’s wives cannot bear to live without him, and immolate themselves on his pyre. Again, a night full of memories and intolerable grief; in the morning, Arjuna finds Vasudeva locked stiff in a yogasana, dead.
Arjuna performs the last rites for Vasudeva and the Yadavas. Then, with as much of the gold of Dwaraka as they can carry, he, the Yadava women and elders, and the brahmanas, vaisyas and sudras leave the city of dreams in a procession of chariots. Now, only the wind sighs in the empty streets. Even as the last chariot drives out through the gates, the ocean rises on every side and rushes into the crystal city. A seismic, submarine earthquake shakes land and sea. As if riven by a God’s awesome hand, exquisite Dwaraka breaks in two and sinks below mountainous waves. Arjuna and the women watch, the shining palaces, the wide avenues and marvellous parks submerge, in moments. Last of all, Krishna’s palace sinks. No trace remains of fabulous Dwaraka, and the sea grows calm before their eyes, still as a lake.
His heart broken, Arjuna rides towards Indraprastha with the Yadava women and children. They travel for two days, then make camp, once, in the land of five rivers. They have not noticed the mleccha bandits who have been stalking them like a pack of wolves. Evening sets in and Arjuna and the women are about to begin their meal, when, with fierce yells, the bandits attack. The camp rings with the screams of the Yadu women. Arjuna jumps up and seizes his Gandiva: but he cries out in dismay when he finds he cannot string the great bow! The Pandava’s hands shake, his body trembles, sweat stands out on his brow, while the brigands take whatever they want, unopposed. With a huge effort, Arjuna manages to string his weapon. When he tries to summon an astra to burn the marauders, he cannot remember a single mantra.
Roaring in despair, Arjuna reaches for his magic quivers. They are empty! The greatest kshatriya in the world stands, watching helplessly, while the bandits carry away most of the gold from Dwaraka, and many of the Yadava women, too. Arjuna sinks to the ground, in tears; realization dawns on him that all this is, indeed, fated. Gandhari’s curse has come true with unthinkable ferocity: it is truly the end of Krishna’s people.
Gathering the handful of women, children and elders that remain, Arjuna arrives in Indraprastha, where Aniruddha’s son, Vajra, is crowned king of the Yadavas.
Krishna’s wives Rukmini, Saibya, Hymavati, and Jambavati make pyres and immolate themselves. Satyabhama and some others go away into the forest to perform tapasya. They live on roots and fruit, and meditate upon Krishna. They climb past the Himalaya, and begin living in the sacred place called Kalpa. Finally they all attain moksha. Arjuna does not stay even a day, but rides away from that city. He fears he will lose his mind for the grief that ravages him. Something draws him inexorably to his grandfather Vyasa’s asrama. Glazed-eyed, panting, he comes before the serene maharishi.
Vyasa says, “Welcome. Why so stricken? Have you slept with a woman during her period? Or killed a brahmana? Has someone vanquished you in battle? Tell me what ails you, if, of course, there is no harm in telling me.”
“Gandhari’s curse has come true,” says the Pandava dully. “Krishna and Balarama are dead, all the Yadavas are killed. Oh, Muni, how can I go on living, after what I have seen? I lit Krishna’s pyre with my own hands. And once I would have believed the seas had dried up or the mountains had fallen into them, but not that he could die.”
Vyasa says simply, “Arjuna, it is time for you to leave the world as well. There is no peace or purpose in it for you or your brothers, any more. You have accomplished everything you were born for.”
Arjuna tells him about the bandits, known as the Abhiras: how he could hardly string the Gandiva, or remember a mantra for the astras, how his quivers were empty.
Vyasa says, “You have no further need of the devastras, the Gandiva or the quivers. You must seek Devaloka now. Leave this world of sorrow behind you, your time in it is over.”
They sit together in rich silence, for a while, as the Pandava absorbs what Vyasa said. In that mystic silence, the warrior fancies he hears his Krishna’s voice calling him, blithely as ever, from another world. Arjuna takes his grandfather’s blessing, prostrating himself at his feet, taking the padadhuli from them, and he rides slowly back to Hastinapura.
Arjuna walks into the Kuru sabha. He looks at Yudhishtira’s face, and cannot say a word, but falls unconscious at his brother’s feet.
BOOK SEVENTEEN
Mahaprasthanika Parva
AUM, I bow down to Narayana, the most exalted
Nara, and to the Devi Saraswati, and say Jaya!
ONE
The final journey
THEY REVIVE ARJUNA WITH SCENTED WATER. HALTINGLY, OFTEN breaking down, he tells his brothers everything that had happened. He tells them about the carnage at Prabhasa: how Satyaki, Balarama and Krishna had died, and how he had lit Krishna’s pyre. He tells them about the women and the bandits, and finally Yudhishtira whispers, “It is Gandhari’s curse come true, in every detail.”
Arjuna tells them how he had dreamt of Krishna, and the strange things his cousin said to him in the dream. The Pandavas are too shocked to even cry; it is as if their own lives died within them when they heard Krishna was dead. Yudhishtira, Bheema and the twins have already made plans while Arjuna was away.
Yudhishtira says, “There is no reason for us to live any longer. We always belonged to Krishna: we learnt how deeply during the war. We have decided we will crown Parikshita king in Hastinapura, and leave this world.”
Arjuna murmurs, “I agree. Finally, time is the only victor.”
Arrangements have already been made; within days, Parikshita is crowned king of the Kurus in the palace in Hastinapura. Yuyutsu is to be the new king’s guardian and advisor, and Acharya Kripa, old as he is, will remain with his sishya, at least until the prince grows accustomed to the kingship. The Pandavas are ready to set out on their final journey, from which they will not return.
On the momentous day, Yudhishtira and his brothers appear on the palace steps wearing tree-bark and deerskin. Draupadi is with them, and she has put away her silks and jewellery. She is also clad in valkala and soft animal hide. The people fill the streets in sorrow at the news, and a cry goes up when the Pandavas emerge. But when the crowd sees the lustre upon Pandu’s sons and their queen, it falls silent. Powerful grace enfolds the brothers and their Panchali.
The people part, in a wave, to let them through. Blessing them, asking them to be loyal to Parikshita, the Pandavas and Draupadi walk away from the city of their fathers for the last time. As they leave the city-gates, an unusual companion attaches himself to them. A little brown dog appears out of nowhere, and follows at Yudhishtira’s heels, making them a party of seven. When they talk to him, wondering to whom he belongs, he turns soulful eyes up at them and wags his tail. Draupadi says, “Oh, he is so friendly. Let him come with us if he wants.”
They travel south first, and arrive at the place where, just a few days ago, magical Dwaraka thrust its crystal towers at the sky from the waves. Now, a calm sea stretches away to the horizon on every side, and no trace remains of the marine city. But subtle visions reach out to the sons of Pandu from the jade and plumbless depths. Memories inundate them, particularly memories of a dark face and its inscrutable, always smiling, black eyes. They hear his voice woven into the surf and the mourning wind, which cries out his name endlessly.
As they stand there, a blazing Deva appears before them. Agni says to Arjuna, “You have no need any more of the Gandiva and the quivers I gave you. Give them back to the Lord of the ocean.”
Agni vanishes as abruptly as he came. Full of grief, for he is parting from friends with whom he had passed through the valley of death, Arjuna sets his weapons down on the white sand. His hands folded, he walks solemnly around them in pradakshina. He strokes them with his fingers, kisses them, and casts his bow and quivers out into the smoky sea. There is a flash of light when they strike the waves; then they are gone. Varuna receives them again, as Arjuna stands forlorn, the wind blowing tears from his eyes.
It is told Varuna comes to them in an illustrious form, and takes the sons of Pandu below his waves, to the city of Dwaraka on his ocean bed. Vivid schools of fish now swim in her streets, where she waits for the ages to turn slowly round, and for the Dark One to be born into the world again. So she can rise once more to be his home on earth. After they pay homage to Krishna’s palace, Varuna brings them ashore and now they turn north.
With the brown dog always at their heels, Draupadi and her husbands cross the plains of Bharatavarsha, and arrive at the Himalaya. They mean literally to climb into heaven! Climbing for months on feet light as air, their punya their strength, they arrive on the white slopes of majestic Meru, mountain at the heart of the earth, from which the continents unfurl like petals from a calyx. With fervent prayers, they climb higher and higher, through breathless passes, along paths hardly as wide as their feet, and the mountain falling sheerly away below them. Clinging to smooth rock faces, they climb on, with Panchali between them.
Suddenly, Draupadi slips and, before any of her husbands can catch her, she falls off the slender trail they are on, plunges to her death thousands of feet below. The cries of the others echo off glacial gorges.
Bheema turns to Yudhishtira in anguish, “My lord, she was sinless all her life. Why has she died like this?”
Yudhishtira appears unmoved. Calmly, he says, “Though we were all her husbands, in her heart, she always loved Arjuna more than any of us * . Except for that, she was pure: which is why she could climb this far. That was her only sin, but it took her down.”
They climb on, and then Sahadeva loses his footing and falls to his death. Again, Bheema asks Yudhishtira why he fell, when he was always so selfless. Yudhishtira says grimly, “He was proud of his intelligence, that was his sin.”
On they climb and a blizzard howls across the icy precipices. It blows Nakula away. Yudhishtira says, “He thought he was the most handsome man on earth, and so he died.”
After a while, Arjuna lies down on the very path and breathes no more. Bheema cries, “Arjuna never told a lie, not even in jest! How has he died?”
