In “Sarala Mahabharata”, on
Yudhisthira’s request, Lord Krishna went to Duryodhana to negotiate peace between
the Kauravas and their cousin Pandavas, who had a shared childhood, grew up
with the same values, and were educated under the same preceptor. He went to
his royal court to meet Duryodhana, the Kaurava king. Far from being accorded
the traditional courtesies due to an emissary, he faced humiliation in his
court. After standing for a long time outside the court waiting to be allowed
to enter, he was made to wait a long time before being offered a seat in the
court. He told Duryodhana that his kingdom would meet the same fate as
Babarapuri.
No one in the court had heard of
the city. The wise Bhishma requested Krishna to tell them about the city. No
one had heard of the city because Krishna created it and its story in the court
itself. That is how I understand the episode in Sarala Mahabharata. Bhandeswara
(“the king of cheats”) was the king there, and Baibhanda (roughly, “crazy
cheat”), his minister. The naked Andia, whose hair was unkempt, was the
presiding deity of the city. It was a city where life was the very opposite of
what was regarded as “civilized” in those days.
For instance, works on cheating
were respected and read. Cheats and liars were honoured, and the honest were killed.
Men and women moved naked in that city, and when they wore something, they wore
it to cover only their heads. Sex was uninhibited. People had sex whenever they
liked, wherever they liked and with whosoever they liked, unconcerned even about
whether they had blood or any social relations with them. It was a very
prosperous city. It had no enemies. We will not say anything more about life in
the city, because our interest is in its destruction.
One day, all of a sudden, a weird
thing happened. A strange voice said that Kokuaa had arrived. In no
time, kokuaa fear engulfed the city. People stayed at home, not
venturing out even during the daytime. Rumours about Kokuaa spread all over
the city. Some said they had seen the terrible creature and that it had seven
eyes; others said it had a huge body and its head touched the sky. Some said
other frightening things. None had really seen this creature. Unable to bear
intense fear and high tension, one day, people came out and fought among
themselves on the streets like mad. They
started killing, and soon there was no one alive. The city was dead.
“This is the story of
Babarapuri”, Krishna told Bhishma in the Kaurava court. Duryodhana’s kingdom
was like Babarapuri, he added. The arrogant Kauravas would be destroyed the way
Babarapuri was, Krishna said. No enemy from outside would kill them; their
arrogance, greed and foolishness would.
What was Krishna’s message? Was
the narrative a way of telling the Kauravas what was to come? That is, is that
a prediction? In that case, that was destiny. Unalterable. There was no room
for human agency. Or, was it a warning? In that case, if the right action is
taken, the result would be different; if Duryodhana accommodated the Pandavas’
demand, then the consequences for Hastinapura would not be the same as for
Babarapuri. Between the prediction and the warning interpretations, which would
be the correct meaning of what Krishna had said? The meaning of his act,
namely, telling the story, was his message. Now, to arrive at the meaning of
what the speaker said, it is necessary to know his intention. To fathom the
intention of ordinary mortals in an act of communication is impossible, be it
verbal or non-verbal. But we need to do it, and what we end up with is an
assumption, and with that, we try to make sense of the speaker’s utterance. But
Krishna’s case is different. Inscrutable are his words and doings, as goes the
ancient wisdom. So, we are not inclined to engage in the futile attempt to work
out the Avatara’s intentions. In our opinion, between the two meanings, the “prediction”
meaning would be the correct one, taking into account Krishna’s Avataric
purpose as conceptualised in the Sarala Mahabharata.
If Krishna was telling Duryodhana
and his court about what was to come, it made absolutely no impact on King
Duryodhana and his brothers. If he was telling them that the worst could be
averted if they changed their attitude towards the Pandavas and treated them as
their own cousins, and were ready to help them live in dignity. Duryodhana
seemed to have read Krishna’s words in this sense, that is, as a warning. He
responded to Krishna’s words that his kingdom was like Babarapuri by asking him
why he had come. Let us leave the matter of Krishna and Duryodhana here.
The story can be read as an
explication of fear. Fear to be experienced needs an “expression” in some form,
material or non-material. Kokua was just that. Its source was unknown, and it
was not a physical entity; if it were so, the description of its physical
features would not have varied so much. Kokua was an individual mental
construction. The conflicting descriptions intensified the individual and the
collective fear. Frenzied fear gives rise to great tension, and overwhelming
fear thrives in such tension. This is what could be a reasonable description of
what happened in Babarapuri. Unable to bear the consuming tension, as the
people of the city came out of their homes and talked, each differing from the
other, there would have been the clash of ego, which, in the fitting condition
created by fear and tension, expressed itself in violent action.
As mentioned above, sex was
uninhibited in Babarapuri. The partner could be anybody. The urge satisfied,
they left – went their own way. Under such a situation, there would be a
population, but no parivar (family), so no kula (lineage). Where
there is no family and no lineage, there is no tender relationship of bonding,
caring, nurturing, protecting, concern and affection. A loveless population,
where the world of an individual is the individual himself, is bound to perish
under its own weight.
If those who belong to a family
and have a lineage refuse to honour kula dharma (family commitments),
like Duryodhana, who was unwilling to help his cousins to live a life of
dignity after they had suffered for a long twelve years in the forest, would
perish. Through the story of Babarapuri, was Krishna telling Duryodhana this,
as well?
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