Microsoft Word - Mahabharata by Kamala Subramaniam.doc Page 2
Ganga meant his very life to the king. But then, the desire for an heir was just as powerful. He knew no peace. A year passed thus. The eighth child was born. Ganga rushed to the river with the child clasped in her arms. The king was speechless with grief and anger. He rushed behind her. He held her back. He spoke harshly to her for the first time. He said: "What inhuman act is this? I cannot bear it any longer. I cannot see all my sons destroyed like this. Why do you do it? How can a mother, or anyone for that matter, break the stem of a flower ere yet it blooms? Please give me this one son. I cannot keep silent any longer".
There was a strange smile on the lips of Ganga. It was sad and it was happy too. She spoke very gently to the king. She said: "My lord, the time has come when I must leave you. You have broken your promise. I must hurry away from here. This child of ours will live. I will take him with me and give him back to you when the time comes.
I will call him Devavrata. His other name will be Gangeya". The king was numb with woe. He could not follow all that she was saying. He knew only this: the woman who meant everything to him was about to leave him for ever. And all because he had asked her not to kill his eighth son. He looked at her with mute appeal in his eyes.
Words came to his lips. "Why do you do this to me? Can you not see that my life is bound up in you and that I cannot live without you? You cannot abandon me and go away! Ganga, you loved me once. In the name of that love I implore you, do not leave me and go away".
A look of pain crossed the beautiful face of Ganga. She said: "Oh my lord, can you not realize that I am going because I must? I am Ganga. I belong to the heavens.
Because of a curse I had to live the life of a mortal on this earth. You were the great king Mahabhishak in your previous birth. You were once with Indra in his court. I came there. You looked at me with eyes full of desire and I wanted to fee yours. The celestials did not like it. They sent me to the earth to be the wife of Mahabhishak who was to be born as Santanu the son of Prateepa. Thus our life of love became possible.
We have been happy. My lord, do not try to stem the tide of time. Things that have been ordained to happen will happen. Not you, nor I nor all the gods in the heavens can alter the order of things to come".
The king looked puzzled. He said: "Still I do not understand. Why then, the killing of these seven children who were born to you and me? Was that also part of the curse?"
"Yes", said Ganga. "These eight children are the eight Vasus who were cursed to be born on this world. I had promised them that I would bear them and grant them release from this life the moment they were born. But this eighth has been cursed to live a long life on this earth. Hence he has been allowed to live. Do not grieve, my
lord. I will give you your heir and I will take care that lie is prepared in a manner suited to the role he has to play: the heir to the throne of the illustrious Pauravas".
When the veil of illusion is torn and the eyes are allowed to look on Truth, the eyes, we find, are not strong enough to do so. It was so with the king.
'Ganga, the goddess from the heavens thought fit to play wife to him. But Santanu, a mere mortal, was not great enough to bear that honour. His mind refused to face the truth. He was dumb-founded when he heard all that Ganga had to say. It was too much for him. He could see just two things. First, his Ganga would leave him for ever, never to come back.
The either realization was that he had a son now, a son to uphold the name of the Pauravas. It was easy for Ganga to follow the emotions that passed through the mind of Santanu. With a look of pity mingled with love she looked at the king and said in a gentle voice: "My beloved, please do not be unhappy. I will take excellent care of our son. He will be a great man.
He will be greater than all the Pauravas who have graced the throne of the race of the Moon".
Ganga faded away from sight. Santanu spent hours re-living the moments filled with pain: the last few moments with Ganga. With a sigh of resignation he turned away slowly and wended his way homewards, a home where loneliness, utter loneliness awaited him.
2. Sixteen Years Later
Sixteen years had gone by. There are crushed hearts that will not break and the king's plight was such. His life was now empty. Life had lost all meaning. But that did not in any way affect his rule. He was an ideal king.
The people were happy under his rule.
His only pleasure, as of yore, was hunting. He would always be haunting the banks of the river Ganga. That was the one spot which gave him comfort.
One day, as he was wandering along the banks of the river a strange sight met his eyes. The river was not flowing. It looked as though something held up the river. Full of curiosity he walked along the banks to see what was happening. He saw a network of arrows. The arrows had been so well-knit that not a drop of water could pass through. Santanu stood rooted to the spot, amazed at the sudden check imposed on the river.
He realised that he was not alone. Ganga, his beloved Ganga was standing beside him with a sweet serene smile. The king was overwhelmed. He looked at her with eyes full of tears. He said: "Ganga, so you have taken pity on me. All these years I have been lonely, so lonely. I want you. I cannot live without you. Please come back to me. You have forgiven me, I know. Or else you would not have come now. Come, let us hasten to the city. Make us happy again". Ganga looked at him with pity in her eyes. She
said: "My lord, all that is in the past. I will not come back. When the sun has set on a day it is foolish to ask him to come back so that you can live the day once again. The sun will come back: but only to usher in another day. No one can go back, not even for a moment. But that is all beside the point. Let me tell you why I have come. Do you see the river being held up?" "Yes", said the king. "'That was the sight which held me spell-bound when you came. Tell me, Ganga, who is it who is holding you in check?
You, whom all the wealth of my love could not hold back?"
Even as they were talking, there was a sudden deafening noise. It was the roar of the river whose course had become unchecked now. From the distance there rushed up to them a boy: a beautiful youth whose noble face was shining with great excitement. He hugged Ganga with his arms and said: "Mother! Mother! I held up the river! Again, I was able to do it!"
Ganga looked at the king. He was a picture of amazement. "Your son!" he said. "Then, surely, surely, he must be-". "Yes, my lord", said Ganga. "Your guess is right. He is our son". She turned to the young man and said:
"Devavrata, this is your father. Salute him". Santanu lifted up the prostrate form of his son and embraced him. Ganga said: "This is the reason for my coming. I have brought your son to you. Take him with you to comfort you. He is well versed in all the arts that a kshatriya should know.
Vasishtha has been his Guru. From him he has learnt the Vedas and the Vedangas. From Brihaspati, the divine guru, he has learnt political science.
At my request Bhargava, the enemy of kshatriyas, has taught him archery.
My son is now proficient in all arts. I have fitted him] to be a worthy heir to the throne of the Pauravas. I give this hero to you. Take him to the home of heroes". Ganga vanished.
The king turned homewards even as he did sixteen years ago. But today he was not alone. His son, this son born of Ganga, was there beside him.
Santanu was proud of this handsome young man who stood fair to be the only obsession of the king who had been lonely so long-Together, father and son galloped towards Hastinapura.
3. The Fisherman's Daughter
Four years passed. In the company of his son the king passed many happy days.
Santanu doted on him and Devavrata was an ideal son. He was lost in his father. It seemed as though he wanted to make up to his father all his years of loneliness. They were inseparable. The king crowned Devavrata as Yuvaraja. The people were delirious with joy. Fate, all the while, was playing a waiting game. The sight of unsullied happiness is too much for he
r. She always manages to add the bitter drop to the cup of joy.
One day the king had gone out hunting. He was alone. As he was going along, a strange perfume assailed his senses. It was a perfume he had never known before. It
overpowered him with its sweetness. Piqued by this strange perfume the king followed it. He wanted to trace it to its source. He went on and on. At the end of the quest he saw that the source was a woman! He had reached the banks of the river Yamuna. There, on the banks of the river, he saw a beautiful woman. She was in the act of tying up the boat. Her form was faultless. She was perfect. No other word could describe the beauty of her limbs, her face, her eyes. The eyes were downcast now with shyness as though she could not bear the intensity of the king's gaze. Her form was ill-concealed by the garb of a fisher-girl. Santanu looked at her. He wanted her. He went near her and said: "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
She spoke in a soft voice. "I am a fisher girl. My father is the king of the fishermen. It is my duty to ply the boat between the two banks of this Yamuna river". The king went straight to the father of the girl and said: "I am Santanu the monarch of the race of the Moon. I come from the city Hastina. While I was hunting in the forest, a strange perfume teased me.
I followed it to the banks of the Yamuna. There I saw a beautiful woman.
She tells me that she is your daughter. I want her for my wife". The king of the fishermen was profuse in his words of supplication. He said: "You are right, my lord. The perfume is part of my daughter and it led you to her. In this entire world there is no other person more fit to have my daughter than your noble self. To be the queen of the Paurava monarch is the greatest honour that can befall a poor fisher girl. I am quite willing to give
my daughter to you in marriage. But, my lord, there is a condition. If you are willing to grant that, my daughter is yours".
The king was impatient. He said: "If it is possible to grant it I will certainly grant you your 'conditions' as you call it". The fisherman said: "It has been said that the son of my daughter will be heir to the throne of the king. If you promise to make the son born of her, the king of Hastina after you, I will give her to you willingly". The king was speechless. He was thinking of Ganga: of the day when she brought Devavrata to him saying,
"I present this hero to you. Take him to the home of heroes". The face of his beloved son came to his mind's eye, the son whom he had crowned as the Yuvaraja. He thought of the bond of love that bound him to Devavrata.
Without a word Santanu returned to his chariot. With a heart full of pain and a longing for the unattainable, the king returned to the city.
4. The Vow Of Celibacy
Devavrata found his father suddenly different. Gone were the happy days of perfect companionship. This new father would not talk to him even as he was wont to do. The prince tried his best to make him disclose to him the cause of this despondency. But his attempts were fruitless. The king lost interest in everything: even in his favourite pastime, hunting. At long last, the king spoke to Devavrata one day. He said. "In this great House of the Kurus you are an only son. You are, to me, more than a hundred sons put together. Nor am I keen on marrying again. But I am worried about the fact
that you are an only son. It is like having one eye. God has granted you a long life. I know it. But my mind is clouded. The wise say that having an only son is like having no son at all. You are a great warrior. If anything should happen to you in one of the wars, the great lineage of the Kurus will be without an heir. It will be destroyed. This has been the worry which is working havoc in my mind". The prince stood silent for a moment; then he walked away without speaking a word.
Devavrata went at once to the charioteer of the King. His intelligence had penetrated through the screen of words that his father had created. He accosted the charioteer in his direct manner. He asked: "You are my
father's friend and confidant. Tell me, who is this woman who has captured my father's heart? Tell me at once so that I can do the needful and make him happy". After much hesitation, the charioteer said: "My lord, the king may not approve of my telling you. The woman is the daughter of a fisherman. She has annexed your father's heart. The king asked her father for the hand of his daughter. He refused to grant the king his wish unless he acceded to his condition: that the son born of his daughter should be installed as king on the throne of the I-auravas. Your father thought of you.
Not being able to do the unthinkable, the king returned to Hastinapura."
Without telling his father Devavrata set out towards the forest. He reached the dwelling place of the fisherman. The woman whom his father loved was there near the bank of the Yamuna, tying up the boat. She looked at him and for a moment thought that it was the king himself. Devavrata saluted her and asked to be taken to the presence of her father. The fisherman greeted his guest with all the respect due to him.
Without any preamble the prince spoke. "I hear that my father, the great monarch of Hastinapura, is smitten with love for your daughter. What else do you want? Do you think you have not been honoured enough when the king of the entire world comes to you asking you for a favour? You have, I heard, the audacity to refuse him his heart's desire!" "My lord,'" said the fisherman, "I wanted a price. I know very well that a great honour has been conferred on me when your father wanted the hand of my daughter. But it has been predicted that the son of Satyavati will be a monarch. I know all about you. You are the crown prince, the yuvaraja. The king dotes on you.
And so, he was silent when I stated to him my condition. He could not grant it to me. This is all that happened".
A frown of annoyance passed across the face of Devavrata. That his dear father should have wanted something and could not get it was a thing he could not imagine.
He said: "You want your grandson to be the king after my father. So be it. I will renounce my claim to the throne. Now, are you satisfied?" The young prince, the hope of The world, amazed the fisherman by his words. A look of unbelief came to the eyes of the fisherman. He was dumb-founded at
the casual manner in which this young prince renounced the throne. He smiled and said: "My lord, you are indeed a true prince. Your father's happiness means everything to you. In your nobleness, you have renounced the throne. But how can I be sure that your sons will be just as selfless as you are? What assurance have I that they will not contest the claims of Satyavati's son?" The prince was shocked at the extent of the man's cupidity. With a smile of contempt he said: "Not satisfied yet? I will satisfy you. I will not marry. I vow before the denizens of heaven and earth and the nether regions, in the name of all that is dear and sacred to me, in the name of my guru Bhagavan Bhargava, in the name of my mother Ganga, in the name of Dharma, that I will never marry as long as 1 live. Now, are you really satisfied?"
Flowers rained on him from the heavens. The word "BHEESHMA"
resounded from all the quarters: so terrible was the vow he had taken.
"Here she is", said the fisherman, "your mother". He brought Satyavati. He stood her before the prince.
Devavrata saluted her, placed her in his chariot and rushed towards Hastinapura.
Devavrata hastened to the presence of his father. He presented the young woman to him and said: "Father, I have brought her for you Please take her and shake off this despondency. Please be happy, father1', The sky was still resounding with the cry:
"Bheeshma! Bheeshma!' Santanu heard all that had happened. He was stricken with grief. Perhaps his conscience smote him. He could not bear to think of his son, so full of manliness, so beautiful, so divine, living a life of permanent self-imposed celibacy.
But the web once woven we cannot unweave. Santanu had got his heart's desire. In his gratitude and his love for this son of his he granted a boon to his beloved son.
Devavrata could die when it pleased him and only when it pleased him.
Death had towait on him. All the king's accumulated tapas was used up for
this boon. In his own way, he was trying to mak
e up to his son for all that he had missed in life.
The marriage between Santanu and Satyavati was celebrated. The king spent a few happy years with her. Two sons were born to them. They were named Chitrangada and Vichitraveerya. The years rolled by only too soon and the king, now grown old, passed away in course of time and was gathered to his forefathers. It was now evident that Devavrata, better known as Bheeshma, had to bear the burden of the kingdom.
Prince Chitrangada was too young to be entrusted with the kingdom.
Bheeshma installed him as the Yuvaraja and acted as regent for him.
Bheeshma spent several uneventful years thus. Nothing remarkable happened. All on a sudden, a tragedy struck like a thunderbolt. There was a Gandharva king called Chitrangada. He did not relish the idea of a mortal having his name. He challenged the human Chitrangada to fight with him and prove himself to be worthy of his name. On the field of Kurukshetra, there was fought a battle between the two Chitrangadas.
Santanu's son was vanquished and killed. Bheeshma was stricken with grief. He performed the coronation of the younger son of Satyavati. Again the regency fell on
the shoulders of Bheeshma. He ruled the kingdom in the name of his brother. The people were very happy. Everyone was happy in Hastinapura under the rule of their uncrowned king, Bheeshma.
5. The Swayamvara At Kasi
The young prince Vichitraveerya was now the centre of Satyavati's hopes.
He was her only son. Bheeshma was a father to him. Years passed. The time came when Bheeshma thought of his marriage. The king of Kasi had three lovely daughters: Amba, Ambika and Ambaalika. These princesses, thought Bheeshma, were fit enough to be the brides for his brother. There came to him news that the king of Kasi was holding a swayamvara for his daughters. Bheeshma could not brook the insult offered him. It had been the custom to give the daughters of Kasi to the princes of the Kuru house.
Bheeshma resented this departure from the usual custom. He descended on the city where the swayamvara was being held.
The preparations for the swayamvara were indeed thorough. Kings from all over Bharatavarsha had come to attend it. The hall was bright with the jewels worn by the princes who had assembled there. The air was thick with the perfume of the flowers which they were wearing. They all saw Bheeshma. There were smiles of derision, sneers and contemptuous remarks. Some said: "Look at this Devavrata, a confirmed bachelor, who has come to the swayamvara of these lovely princesses! Indeed, who can resist the law of nature? Their beauty is enough to weaken the austerities of even rishis. What then, can we say of a poor mortal like Devavrata? He has forgotten the oath he took to satisfy his father. He has come hoping that he may be chosen by one of the princesses. Vain hopes! What vanity he has! Who will look at this man, well past the prime of youth, when we are all here!"