POLITICS OF THE WAR CODE

 

The negotiations to avoid war between the Pandava and the Kaurava brothers had failed and war was imminent. Duryodhana appealed to the kings who had chosen to fight for him to give him victory. They told him that the Pandavas themselves were great warriors and with Krishna on their side, they were invincible. Notwithstanding all this, they would fight for him with full commitment and while having darshan (sacred viewing) of Shri Krishna on Arjuna’s chariot, they would fall in the battlefield and attain moksa (liberation).

Duryodhana turned to Bhishma. He told him that many great kings and warriors had joined his side and in contrast Yudhisthira’s army was small. Would the huge Kaurava army not vanquish the small Pandava army easily, he asked the venerable Bhishma. Bhishma said the question was not how large his army was and how large the enemy’s. It was within Bhurishrava’s power to send them all to the abode of the god of death within three days.  Shalya could end the war in two days and Aswasthama, in one day. Karna could do so in three praharas (three quarters of a day) and guru Drona, in two. He could do so in one prahara and Arjuna could do so in just a muhurta (moment).

When he fought, continued Bhishma, his hands and fist shook, when Drona fought, his chest would palpitate fast and likewise every great warrior present there had one such problem or the other. Only Arjuna was not troubled by any problem of that sort. This apart, Arjuna had defeated Lord Shiva and pleased with him, the greatest of the gods, had given him the infallible arrow, named Pashupata. He had defeated Indra, the king of the gods and the other gods in Khandava forest. He had defeated the incomparable Balarama and later, Krishna himself. Only the other day, he had defeated the entire Kaurava army in the war in the kingdom of Virata. His manavedi arrow was so powerful that everyone in the battle field fell unconscious. Arjuna was indeed unconquerable, said Bhishma.

Duryodhana understood the situation. He asked Bhishma if there was some way to contain Arjuna. Bhishma said there was one. A rule could be made with the consent of all the warriors to the effect that weapons received from the gods must not be used in the war. He suggested to Duryodhana that he must invite the Pandavas to Hastinapura. They all would persuade them to accept a war code. Both sides must work out the code together and both sides must commit themselves to it. Sakuni was entrusted with the task of bringing the Pandavas from Jayanta (pronounced as jayantaa), where they were staying, to Hastinapura.

Bhishma knew that wars are not always won or lost in the battlefields. That raises the question about the nature of the heroic acts on the battlefield and more importantly, of the meaning of victory or defeat there. How fettered, for instance, was the defeated - by a curse or a promise made to someone dear or revered, or to self or by a rule or a personal value and the like?

Sakuni went to Jayanta and told Yudhisthira that he had come at Duryodhana’s behest to invite them to Hastinapura where they and the other warriors would work out a war code. Bhima did not like the idea of going there. “Why didn’t the Kuru king come here?” asked Bhima. “Why should we go there? Are we in his service that we would be at his beck and call?” he asked Sakuni. Sakuni said that at Hastinapura, there were the Kuru elders, many kings from many kingdoms and many others; so there could be arguments and discussions while making the code. Besides, going there should not be viewed as a humiliation for them; after all, one day that place might be theirs, he said (kale tumbhakain prapata hoiba sehisthana). No one responded to the last part of what he said. Quite rightly, one might think – in a war one side would win. Might be the winner in that war would be the Pandavas, but that would hardly be something to talk about at that point in time, especially when it was Sakuni, who Yudhithira considered utterly dishonest, had said so and in the casual way he had said it.

So the Pandavas went to Hastinapura with Krishna. They were fondly welcomed at Hastinapura and there was bonhomie among the Kauravas and the Pandavas. In the presence of all, Yudhisthira asked Sahadeva when the war should start. Sahadeva said the very next day – Tuesday, the dwithiya tithi (the second day) of the month of Magh - would be good for the purpose. Everyone agreed.

Duryodhana said,” Listen, O son of Dharma, in the battlefield brothers will be fighting with brothers. Let us fight without any negative feelings towards each other– let there be no malice or hatred in our heart. Let there be no bitterness or hypocrisy. This will be the war of dharma and the witness will be the Supreme god Narayana Himself. Dharma will win the war”.

Now, would Duryodhana have said what he did if he did not believe that he had done nothing wrong with regard to sharing the kingdom of Hastinapura with the Pandavas, no matter who all had said things to the contrary? In Duryodhana’s tone there was no insincerity, no hypocrisy. And for him, giving half the kingdom would be sharing the kingdom, as would be giving one village. No one goes to war under the banner of adharma. Duryodhana had no doubt in his mind that he wasn’t.

Then he said, “Let no one use the divine weapons. Let no one use weapons the use of which one hasn’t learnt from one’s guru (preceptor). Let Arjuna not use manavedi arrow. Let warriors kill during the war but become loving friends once the fighting stopped for the day and then they must sit together and enjoy the togetherness.” Everyone agreed.  “No one must violate the code. Narayana would be the witness. The one who does, would suffer”, said Duryodhana. The Pandavas and the Kauravas took the oath to abide by the code.

Bhishma’s objective was to disempower Arjuna; it was just that it was not he but King Duryodhana who had articulated what he wanted. Pandavas surely did not fail to understand Duryodhana’s motive, but they did not say anything by way of exposing him.

No one, neither the Pandavas nor the Kauravas, mentioned the infallible weapon Karna had received from god Indra. Everyone knew that he had decided to use it against Arjuna alone. With that weapon, Karna could have effectively won the war for Duryodhana. Now, the code disempowered Karna too. There is nothing in the narrative that explains why that weapon did not figure in the deliberations. The following might give a clue.

After the war code was accepted, Bhishma spoke. “You have taken the vow”, he told Krishna, “that you would only be the charioteer of Arjuna and not wield a weapon. O, the One of infinite kindness, O, the One with boundless benevolence for His devotees, know that I am the servant of your servant. I know that you will break your oath. On my account, you will wield a weapon.”

“You have taken avatara to reduce the burden of the earth. You will be the witness in the war for both sides. We will fall in the battlefield, looking at you and will be rid of the burden of our sins of countless existences”. With that, the meeting ended. Those who had assembled there left for their respective places of stay. The Pandavas returned to Jayanta. They had to make preparations for the war to start on the following day.

Krishna did not say anything. On the sixth day of the battle, Bhishma attacked Arjuna with an infallible divine arrow and Arjuna had no arrow to neutralize it. Unseen by everyone in the battlefield except Hanuman on the top of Arjuna’s chariot, Krishna destroyed it with his Sudarshana chakra. And on the ninth day, Krishna rushed to Bhishma’s chariot with Sudarshana chakra in his hand, setting aside details, and everyone saw that. Everyone saw that Krishna had broken his vow. Bhishma had won. Narayana would never disappoint His devotee.

Returning to the non-mention of Indra-given weapon to Karna in the discussion, maybe Bhishma knew it would be ineffectual. He knew Krishna would intervene if there would be threat to Arjuna’s life. And when the Avatara had chosen to protect Arjuna, which weapon in all the brahmandas could harm him!

READING "UDYOGA PARVA" of SARALA MAHABHARATA

(A summary of the main ideas. Written in the form of notes. Written for the purpose of discussion of this extremely important parva (chapter) at a Sarala Mahabharata Group Meeting.  The points for discussion are highlighted. Unedited)

 

Broadly speaking, this Parva is about the pre-War negotiations and preparations for the Great War at Kurukshetra. This is also about Krishna’s / Narayana’s mahima (greatness and glory) and about the many ways of being connected with the Supreme god Narayana and many shades of bhakti.

 

These cursory notes might give one a feel of how Sarala Mahabharata is creatively different from Vyasa Mahabharata – how Sarala Das, the poet, keeping the basic story unaltered, introduces innovations into the narrative to express his poetic vision and philosophical insights.

 

Initial negotiations

 

From King Virata’s kingdom, the Pandavas come to Indraprastha. The Kula guru, Dhaumya, come to Yudhisthira at Duryodhana’s behest to tell them that for the interest of the Kuru Kula (comprising the Kauravas and the Pandavas both), he should not ask for the Pandavas’ share of the kingdom. Yudhisthira sends him to Duryodhana with the message that he should consider the Pandavas’ needs. When Dhaumya says this to Duryodhana, he disagrees.

Then Vidura comes to Yudhisthira and asks him not to demand the Pandavas’ share of the kingdom. The same argument:  the Kula should be protected. For that the Pandavas should make a sacrifice. Yudhisthira disagrees. All he wants are five padas (villages). They had undergone great suffering during their vana vasa (forest dwelling) and ajnanta vasa (living incognito). Vidura asks him how he would face the mighty Kauravas in the battlefield. Yudhisthira tells him that military might does not win wars. Dharma does; it is the greatest power.

To go back to Virata’s palace. Arjuna brings Krishna from Dwarika at Yudhisthira’s behest. At Virata’s place, his queen Sudeshna tells them all what would happen in the war. Draupadi and Arjuna were devastated: Draupadi because she would lose all her children and Arjuna, his son, Abhimanyu. But they were pacified with explanations of these happenings from the cosmic perspective.

Yudhisthira requests Krishna to go to Hastinapura and plead with Duryodhana to give the Pandavas just five villages. If not that, then just one. If he rejects even that request, then there would remain no alternative to war. He genuinely wanted avoidance of the war. But Krishna did not have peace in mind. He was going there to ensure that war takes place. No one knew his mind, except Sahadeva. Krishna’s betrayal of Yudhisthira, but the Avatara had a cosmic objective.

Krishna met the other four Pandavas separately. His purpose was to find out how strongly they wanted war and what their level of self-confidence was in case there would be war.

Bhima – even he! - and Arjuna were inclined towards avoidance of the fratricidal war, if they get a village each. They were confident that Duryodhana would oblige since each of them had done him good. Krishna had to work on Bhima’s mind for war. He succeeded.  Bhima talked war. Arjuna had decided that if Duryodhana does not give him a village, he would fight. Nakula wanted two villages: one for him and the other for Sahadeva. Sahadeva did not aske fo anything: he knew Krishna’s mind. He assisted him by telling him that he should ask for those villages which Duryodhana would never give.  That would ensure that war would take place. He also told him that he would earn disrepute for not adhering to the dharma of an emissary.

Then Krishna met Draupadi and she desperately wanted war. Those who had humiliated her must perish. She must have her revenge. Later, in Hastinapura, when Krishna met Kuniti at Vidura’s place, she told him most emphatically that she wanted the war to take place and that he should ensure that.

Remarks:

Kula raksha (protection of the kula) should be the most important concern of the members of the kula. If sacrifice has to be made for that, then the wiser members should do that. Of the Pandavas and the Kauravas, who were on the side of dharma and who were not, was not the question. Although it is not explicitly mentioned that saving the kula is dharma, but it is absolutely clear from the exchanges that this is so. Contrast Srimad Bhagavad Gita’s stand in this respect.

The Pandavas did not disagree. But they too were the members of the kula. They had suffered a great deal and in consideration of that, those who are in a position to help them (their Kaurava cousins), should come forward to help.

The Pandavas wanted dignified living, which for the four Pandavas (barring Sahadeva) translated into five villages. Then they would not have to live on the doles from Duryodhana or beg, for instance. For Draupadi and Kunti, dignified living meant in effect the destruction of the Kauravas.

The negotiations were really about avoiding the war, not peace between the Kauravas and the Pandavas. These two are obviously not the same.

The negotiations were bound to fail. Krishna, Yudhisthira’s emissary had war in mind and Yudhisthira or anyone else barring Sahadeva, had absolutely no idea about that. Krishna had a cosmic purpose. Sahadeva knew it and assisted him in this.

He also said that at the laukika level, Krishna’s doings would be unethical.

This is the problem of the Avataras (two Avataras): they have a cosmic task to perform and they sometimes have to violate the human moral code to achieve that objective. The two Avataras are Krishna and Vamana. They both resort to deceit. In this Parva, the Vamana Avatara is brought into the ambit of discussion. It is natural.

One would see a little later that the issue here is giving, as it was in the case of King Bali and Vamana. Here Duryodhana was to “give” villages to the Pandavas. Sakuni transforms it into giving “Narayana”. Giving to the Pandavas was, for him, giving to Narayana. Both Duryodhana and Bhishma say on different occasions the Narayana should not return empty-handed, etc.

 

Krishna in the Kaurava court

The narrative is about the so-called negotiations and more importantly about the “mahima” of Narayana, seen as undifferentiated from Krishna. In the process the mahima of Shiva is also described, although somewhat peripherally. Shiva’s doings are seen as a contrast to Narayana’s doings, with respect to giving and receiving, etc. There is the view that Shiva is very easy to please, whereas Narayana can never be content (he is a-trupati) with bhakti, daana, etc. So, tells Sakuni to Duryodhana, “do not give him anything. One can never satisfy him by giving.”  This perspective provides the backdrop to the discussion about the Pandavas’ demand from Duryodhana.

Krishna reaches the Kaurava court when the court is in session. At Sakuni’s instance, Duryodhana does not invite Krishna to come to the court. He is kept standing, waiting to be offered a seat.

Sakuni says Krishna being a sinner, who had committed serious crimes like killing a woman (Putana) and killing a bull (the demon Arishtasura, in the form of a bull), could not be invited to the august assembly.  Besides, he was of low birth. In fact, King Jarasandha had not invited to his court on that account and both Balarama and Krishna had returned humiliated.

Sakuni in this Parva, uses the strategy of not telling the whole story and telling only that part which suited him (By the way, could one say by suppressing information, he was lying? Committing an unethical act? What he said was correct but what he left unsaid about the event was also correct). Bhishma said that he hadn’t told what happened next. At Krishna’s behest, Garuda flapped his wings and in the mighty wind, the courtiers became very unstable and the court dissolved.

Similarly, later when Sakuni told the court that King Bali perished because he gave daana (ritual gift) to Narayana, Bhishma said that was not the whole story. Narayana compensated him amply. What he received was a great deal more than what he had given. By the way, Bali knew that the dwarf asking for daana was Narayana himself.

When Sakuni could not counter Bhishma, he abused him to silence him. He told him that he was issueless and such persons bring ill-luck. Bhishma kept quiet. When Drona spoke about the mahima of Krishna, he too silenced him, resorting to abuse. He charged him of being responsible for his wife’s death.

Finally listening to Vidura, Duryodhana invited him to his court and offered him a seat. (He told Krishna that since he had forgiven so many persons, he must forgive him too. He thinks it is his right to be forgiven. This is the bhakta’s (devotee’s) right. There indeed are many shades of bhakti!) Krishna told him that his dispensation would meet the same end as did the kingdom, called Babarapuri. On being requested by Bhishma to tell them about this kingdom about which he had not hear before, Krishna told the court about it. Babarapuri is a depiction of a dystopia. The prosperous Babarapuri was destroyed not because of an external enemy but because of reasons internal to it – a society that practised adhama (sin) had to collapse on its own. The same would happen to the Kaurava dispensation, he told Duryodhana.

On being asked by Duryodhana why he had come, he said he was Yudhisthira’s emissary. He told him that all the eldest Pandava wanted was five villages. He told him that it was his moral duty to take care of his brothers.

Duryodhana said they did not belong to the Kuru family and as such he had no special duty for them. None of them was Pandu’s son; so they were outsiders to the family. It’s not the mother but the father who matters in determining who belongs to the family and who does not. Krishna told him tthat his ancestry was no different, a matter he explicated in great detail. He told him that he was the son of a widow.

Greatly upset, Duryodhana asked his brothers to attack him. What he had done was not expected of an emissary. As Duryodhana’s brothers attacked him with weapons, he transformed himself as a great fish, then a tortoise and then a boar and then a dwarf. When the Kauravas still attacked him, their attitude unchanged, he was wondering if they knew anything. He then assumed the form of Nrisingha and everybody ran away in fear.

That evening when the venerable sages who were present met at Vidura’s place, where Krishna was to have his food, they were wondering what punya (good deeds) the Kauravas had done to see the five Avataras of Narayana, which no one had seen before. The Kauravas thought that it was just Krishna’s magic performance. Later Duryodhana told (his father) that Krishna’s conduct in the court was disgraceful. He assumed different forms just as actors in an opera change their dress and appear differently each time they change their dress.  

What could be of interest is why the sages and the Kauravas understood what they had seen so very differently. Two different understandings. If understanding is the result of knowledge, then how does knowledge arise in the mind?  The age-old question of how do we know what we know. Ancient Indian thinkers were concerned with this question, as were the ancient Greeks.

Krishna and the sages were entertained by Vidura that night.

 

 

That night Bhishma, Drona, Karna and the other great warriors met Duryodhana and Bhishma told him that he should not displease Narayana. The consequences would be disastrous. He advised him to have bhakti towards Narayana and have a cordial relationship with the Pandavas (sodare hua priti), who were his brothers. This would turn out to be blissful for him, he said. In between he had said that half the kingdom was the Pandavas’ right. (This is the only mention of the Pandavas’ right to the kingdom, I think, in this Parva at least. The Pandavas had not asked for their right, if they thought they had a right, based on law. Krishna did not raise the question of the Pandavas’ right. In this Parva, the issue was Duryodhana’s duty towards his brothers, who were part of the Kuru kula.). Duryodhana did not say a word in response and left the place. Then he went to meet his father. Dhritarashtra asked him why he had got angry with Krishna in the court. Duryodhana told him how Krishna had berated him in the presence of kings of many kingdoms. Unable to bear the insult, he had asked his brothers to kill him. Then he said how Krishna changed appearances and assumed different forms as do the actors in operas. Dhritarashtra advised him not to be hostile towards the Pandavas, perhaps not so much because they were his cousins but because Krishna was with them. This angered Duryodhana and he left the place. His wife, the virtuous Bhanumati, advised him not to be inimical towards Krishna. If he wanted to save his vansa (family), she said, he must have devotion towards Narayana. If he would not do that, the Kauravas would perish. Duryodhana got very angry. He told her that he would have killed her if she were not a woman.  

In the morning, Bhanumati pleaded with her spouse to give Narayana two villages and take shelter under him. She had seen a very inauspicious dream, in which she saw her husband dying and she was very scared. Sakuni told Duryodhana not to get scared of the magician who had assumed different appearances. He told him not to opt for peace for fear of him. Krishna was alone in the court and he could be dealt with appropriately (i.e., be killed).

The court started. Krishna asked King Duryodhana if he would accept Yudhisthira’s request for five villages (This was not what Yudhisthira had wanted from Duryodhana.) Duryodhana told him that the Pandavas were not his enemies. But that was not a consideration for him. Because of fear for him he would give them villages. He asked him to express his wish and he promised to give them what he wanted (Recall Bali’s oath to Vamana. One can see how the narrative of the Kuru kula was being transformed into the narrative of the doings of Narayana.) Krishna said the Kuru elders, the kings of different kingdoms and the sages were his witness that Duryodhana had promised to give him what he wanted.  He was expressing his wish because Duryodhana had promised him that he would fulfil his wish.

He then named Indraprastha, Yama prastha, Hastina, Jayanta and Barunai. If Duryodhana gave him these, he would have nothing left for himself (This precisely became King Bali’s situation.) Sakuni laughed loudly, telling everyone that this was what he had anticipated and had warned Duryodhana about. (Sakuni here is the equivalent of guru Sukracharya in the Bali-Vamana narrative. This comparison is suggested although not explicitly stated.) No one said anything.

Duryodhana asked his brothers to attack Krishna and kill him. Bhishma, Drona and Bhurishrava rushed to protect Krishna. Krishna invoked Koumudi, his / Narayana’s mace and Sudarshana, his / Narayana’s discuss. He assumed his Virata rupa (Supremely Majestic form. I think a distinction should be made between his Virata rupa here and his Vishwa Rupa (Universal Form) in Srimad Bhagavad Gita.). The Kauravas ran away in fear. Bhishma offered his head to Krishna, as did some other virtuous warriors. They wanted moksa. Krishna assumed his normal form. The Kuru elders and other venerable persons then told Duryodhana that he had done many wrongs and that he must now make peace with the Pandavas. He would save the kula by doing so.

Duryodhana told Krishna that he would not give anything at all to the Pandavas. Let them fight, he said.

As he was leaving the court, Krishna told Karna that he should fight with the Pandavas, who, he, that is, Karna, knew, were his brothers. In Sarala Mahabharata Karna knew, right from their childhood, that the Pandavas were his brothers. But Karna did not listen to him. Instead, he told him that he would kill both Arjuna and him in the battlefield.

As he was on his way to Vidura’s place, he saw Lakshmana Kumara, Duryodhana’s son, running towards him from behind. With great humility, Lakshmana Kumar prayed to Krishna and Krishna told him that he wanted him to ask him for a boon. Lakshmana Kumara told him that all he wanted was that he severe his head with Sudarshana chakra. Krishna told him that he wanted him to live for the continuance of the Kaurava side of the vansha. Lakshmana Kumara said he did not seek anything else from him. He wanted him to severe his head with Sudarshana chakra. He wanted moksa. He knew Krishna could give him moksa.

Here ends the part of Udyoga Parva that deals with negotiations to avoid the war. In the remaining part of the Parva, we get to know about the preparations for the war

Remarks:

These couplets (involving Krishna and Lakshmana Kumara) are simply sublime. There is just one more narrative in Sarala Mahabharata that is sublime.

So many most honestly and most sincerely wanted moksa from Krishna (as Narayana) but none of them got it. The one who gets moksa in Sarala Mahabharata is Belalasena. I do not think he had asked him for moksa. So one gets moksa who he chooses to give moksa. It is not something one gets through his own efforts.

It is worth noting that all who wanted moksa were from the Kaurava side. No Pandava or no Pandava woman wanted moksa from Krishna. They wanted his protection, victory in the war, etc.

If Vyasa Mahabharata is about dharma, Sarala Mahabharata is about moksa.

 

Preparations for the war

Very briefly for the present. The following are important:

(a) Yudhisthira’s declaration of war. When he learns that Krishna was humiliated, he wanted to avenge Krishna’s humiliation. The idea of villages was not in his mind. The war had to be fought on the issue of Krishna’s having been insulted.

He was advised to restrain himself. He was told that the sins of a war accrues to the one who starts the war.

(b) Sakuni met Yudhisthira and told him that he should return to the forest with his brothers and leave the kingdom to Duryodhana. He told him that being a virtuous person, he should do that. Duryodhana was an ignoramus. He would suffer in his next birth whereas Yudhisthira would enjoy the consequences of his good deeds in this birth. Yudhisthira rejected his advice with disdain. He considered Sakuni a vicious person and his advice to him, insincere.

( c) Krishna and Sakuni met alone one night. Krishna asked him whether the war should take place. Sakuni told him that he is his servitor and he do whatever he wanted him to do. If Krishna did not want war, he (i.e., Sakuni) would make Pandavas and the Kauravas go for peace. He would ensure that this would happen. Krishna just had to ask him to do this. But before he asked him to work for peace, he should remember his avataric purpose – why he had taken avatara.

For him, commitment to Krishna transcends everything. He was oath-bound to his father to avenge his and brothers and relatives’ killing by Duryodhana, who used the vilest treachery for the purpose. His father had committed him to the task of ensuring the complete destruction of the Kauravas. But he was going to betray his oath to his father for the sake of Krishna.  His words to Krishna were not insincere, uttered just to please him. He was his devotee and Krishna knew that.

( e) The Pandavas and the Kauravas met to work out a war code. There is no parallel to this in the puranic literature, incidentally. It was a war between brothers, so it must not degrade into barbaric violence. The politics of it is interesting. But about that in another piece - for the next discussion. It was Duryodhana who said that both sides must observe the war code. It was worked out in the presence of Narayana and he would be the witness in the war. (This echoes the concept of Narayana as sakshi). For that reason, it would be dharma yuddha. It is to be noted that Yudhisthira does not use this term in this sense, neither in Sarala Mahabharata here nor in Vyasa Mahabharata. Duryodhana said that Narayana’s presence in the battlefield would make the entire battlefield a profoundly sacred space.

5.10.24

 

 

  

THE TESTIMONY OF THE SEVERED HEAD IN SARALA MAHABHARATA (THE STORY OF BELALASENA)

 

Note: This is a revised version of the article “The Tale of Belalasena: A Unique Perspective in Sarala Mahabharata” published in Samachar Just Click on March 28, 2024.

 

Key words: Sarala Mahabharata, Krishna, Bhima, Belalasena, maya

 

 

The story of Belalasena occurs in Sarala Mahabharata. In Vyasa Mahabharata, there is no Belalasena story or an equivalent of it. Belalasena was Bhima’s son. Let us set aside details about his meeting Krishna on his way to the battlefield and about why he not just happily, but with great devotion too, gave his head to Krishna, when he asked for it (for some details, see “The Story of Belalsen” posted on August 15, 2017 in the blog: saralamahabharat.blogpost.com). Granting his request to witness the war, Krishna allowed the severed head to remain alive and witness it. His head was placed in a vantage position, from where he could see the war. He saw the happenings in the war from the beginning to the end.

 

In Vyasa Mahabharata, Sanjaya, the minister of the Kaurava king Dhritarashtra, was witnessing the war, sitting with the king and narrating to him what was happening on the battlefields of Kurukshetra, where his army was fighting with the army of the Pandavas. Sage Vyasa had given him the special vision because of which he could see the actions taking place at a distance. That was how the blind old king, without participating in the war physically, was experiencing it.

 

In Sarala Mahabharata, Sanjaya informed the blind, old father, who was no longer the king, having given the kingdom of Hastinapura to his eldest son Duryodhana, about the happenings in the war and he also commented on them. But he did not do so because of any special vision given to him by Vyasa or anyone else. He himself fought in the battlefield for the Kauravas and also obtained information about what had happened in different parts of the war field from others and used his experience, intelligence and insight to comment on the important events in the war and even make predictions about what was going to happen in the battlefield on the following day. In sum, there is no Belalasena in Vyasa’s version and there is no Sanjaya with special vision in Sarala’s version. It is certainly an interesting asymmetry between the source text in Sanskrit and its retold version in Odia.

 

The war ended and it was time for the Pandavas to claim credit for the victory. Present with the Pandava brothers at that time were Draupadi, Subhadra, Kunti and Krishna. Bhima said that the war was won solely because of him since he had killed all the Kaurava brothers (barring Durdaksha, who had changed sides and fought for the Pandavas). Arjuna said the war would never have been won but for him. Outraged, Nakula claimed credit for himself. Sahadeva said that he had told the death secrets of formidable warriors; so it was because of him that the Pandavas won the war. Yudhisthira said he was steadfast in dharma and it was indeed this that brought victory to them.

 

Draupadi said that she was an exceptionally virtuous woman (mahasati); it was this power of her that destroyed the Kauravas. Subhadra, Arjuna’s wife, told them that all of them were dead wrong. She was indeed the cause. The Kauravas killed Abhimanyu, her son, and her brother, Krishna, avenged his killing by having them wiped out. Finally Kunti spoke. She said that she had undergone great hardship for years and as she suffered, she prayed to Dharma (god of justice). The Pandavas’ victory was the god’s answer to her prayer. Soon they started fighting over the issue of credit.   

 

To settle the issue, Krishna brought them to the severed head and asked him what he had seen and who could be justly credited for the victory. The severed head told him what he had seen: no human or demon had killed anyone. A chakra (discuss), dazzling with the glare and the brilliance of a myriad suns, unceasingly moved to and fro - from one part of the war field to the other, killing the fighters.

 

This can be viewed as an embodiment of a very important idea in the eleventh chapter of Srimad Bhagavad Gita, namely that the Supreme Lord had already killed all those who were to fall in the war. The warriors would only act as the killer; such is His leela (play) and such is how the cosmic and the laukika (mundane / the level of sense experience) levels connect in the text. What is real, the truth, at the laukika level is not the truth at the cosmic level; in fact, at that transcendental level, the laukika-level reality does not exist. Under the power of maya (cosmic illusion), humans can perceive things only at the laukika level and therefore take illusion as real. This is the limitation humans have to live with and this could be why they consider themselves to be kartas (doers), agents, rather than instruments of the happenings. In Sarala Mahabharata, there is no Srimad Bhagavad Gita, but the above shows how it had unobtrusively entered Sarala’s narrative, where the Gita idea under reference here had taken the form of a story. Because of the grace of Krishna, Belalasena had seen the reality. The ability to see the reality is not the outcome of one’s karma. Arjuna witnessed the Vishvarupa (Universal Form) of Krishna because of Krishna’s grace. Belalasena saw his leela in the battlefields of Kurukshetra for the same reason. Freed from the bondage of maya by Krishna’s grace, he had not seen what Sanjaya had seen, namely things at the laukika level, where someone killed someone and someone else, some other. Krishna had granted him his wish to be able to witness the war. Only the one who is chosen by Him to see the transcendental reality, sees it.

 

To end the story of Belalasena. His story is short as was his life in the world. He came into Sarala’s narrative to be the witness of a catastrophic, yet transformative Event, and give a testimony, which would be the final word on the happenings in that Event. The testimony given to the Avatara in the presence of those who claimed credit for the victory in the Great War of Kurukshetra, he left the narrative. But his going was not ordinary; it was truly exceptional.

 

Listening to him, Bhima was agitated in the extreme. Here was his son betraying him, instead of supporting him. He condemned him as a thoroughly unworthy and disgraceful son; one, who did not take the side of his father in a situation of conflict and belittled him in front of others. Wild with anger, he hit the head of his son with all his might. From the top of the tree-trunk, which served as a pillar and from where the head had witnessed the war, it fell on the ground and died. The father killed the son, but not in the performance of a sacrifice.

 

Belalasena’s story ended when Krishna absorbed his soul into him. Merged into the Supreme god Narayana, he was no longer subject to the karmic cycle. No one in Sarala Mahabharata received moksha in this sense. This can be viewed as the Avatara’s “pratidana” (return dana) for the “dana” he had received from him.

 

30 March 2024

 

 

ON INCONSISTENCIES IN SARALA MAHABHARATA

There are at least two kinds of inconsistency in “Sarala Mahabharata”. The narrative operates at two levels; at one level, sage Agasti (Agastya) narrates the Mahabharata story to Vaibasuta Manu, the lord of the aeon. At another, sudramuni Sarala Das narrates that story to his audience. The second enters into the first when the poet Sarala makes observations about himself or on some matter in the narration, or offers prayers, etc. When there are inconsistencies in the sage Agasti’s narration, Vaibasuta Manu interrupts the sage and seeks clarification, which the sage offers. This is how inconsistencies are resolved in that narrative. We say nothing about this kind of inconsistency here. Now, there are inconsistencies in Sarala’s narrative, which the audience, distanced from him in time, notes. Obviously such inconsistencies cannot be resolved through the poet’s intervention. Let us call the former inconsistency “narrative-internal inconsistency” and the latter kind of inconsistency the “external inconsistency”.

In the Kaurava court, where he had gone as Yudhisthira’s emissary of peace, Krishna told King Duryodhana that since the Pandavas were his brothers, they had a share in the Kuru kingdom (pandave sodara tohara jugate bhaga lagun). But all they wanted was just five villages. He was pleading with him to give them five villages and he said that the sages in the court were his witness: munimananta sakshakari grama ambhe magun. Duryodhana upbraided him for supporting a wrong claim. He said that the Pandava brothers, every one of them, whether Kunti’s sons or Madri’s, were outsiders to the Kuru family, being born of those who did not belong to the family. Dharma, Pavana, Indra, Ashwini Kumar were the fathers of Yudhisthira, Bhima, Arjuna and Nakula respectively and as for Sahadeva, he Kumara’s (Ashwini Kumara’s) son. He told Krishna that none of them was Pandu’s son and only Pandu’s son had a right on the kingdom of the Kurus: jugate pandu virjye huante jebe jata/ nichaye bhaga tanku laganta jagannatha – If they were born from the seeds of Pandu / right of share would have accrued to them) (Udyoga Parva, couplets 21-26, p. 1990).

In the Draupadi vasta harana (disrobing of Draupadi) episode, Dussasana told Bhima, in the court of King Duryodhana that Sahadeva apart, they all were born illegitimate and that only he was their brother: yeka matra sahadeva ate ambha bhrata. They would give him half the kingdom and make him the King: ardha rajya dei taku karibu nrupasain. (Sabha Parva II, couplets129-130, p. 1287). It is true that he was not entitled to make such an observation, he was not the king, Duryodhana was. But Duryodhana did not contradict him nor did he show any displeasure with respect to what his brother had said. Therefore it would not be unreasonable to infer that he agreed with his brother.

This is one instance of the inconsistencies in “Sarala Mahabharata”. Consider another.

The Avatara had given up his mortal body and after sometime, Dwaraka was submerged in water. A devastated Arjuna was returning to Indrapratha and with him were the sixteen thousand women of Krishna. On the way, they ran into some cowherds who were grazing their cattle. They grabbed the women. They were theirs, they told Arjuna. He attacked them with arrows. They were unafraid and they stopped those arrows with which the great Pandava had won many battles with their umbrellas. They mocked at him and told him that they were not like Bhishma and Drona. Arjuna felt weak and helpless and couldn’t even lift his bow, Gandiva. He could not protect Krishna’s women and returned to Indraprastha utterly dejected and defeated (Mushali Parva, couplets 20-42, pp.  2624-2625).

In Swargarohana Parva, there is the story of Yudhisthira marrying an Odia girl named Suhani. After handing over his kingdom to Parikshita, Yudhisthira, along with his brothers and Draupadi, left Indraprastha on vanaprastha. They were on the last pilgrimage of their life. They came to Jajpur on the bank of the sacred river Baitarani. Several people came to pay their respects to them and one day came Hari Sahu, a vaishya by caste, with his fifteen year old daughter Suhani. Yudhisthira told him that it was not right that he hadn’t yet given his daughter in marriage. Hari Sahu said that the girl was destined to die during the wedding and he did not want to see that happen. Then he pleaded with the eldest Pandava to marry her. He told him that that relationship would bring glory to his entire community and for that, he was willing to sacrifice his daughter. Yudhithira was shocked and tried to convince Hari Sahu about the unreasonableness of his proposal. But his brothers advised him that it would not be an act of dharma to reject the proposal. And Arjuna assured him that the girl would not die. He said he had pleased god Yama on an earlier occasion and would pray to him to save the girl. He was confident that the god would grant his prayer.

As the family priest Dhaumya was conducting the wedding in the presence of the venerable sage Vyasa and many sages who had come with him, Kala and Vikala, the messengers of the god of death, approached the girl. With one arrow, Arjuna tied them up. Chitragupta, who is god Yama’s associate, fled in fear and reported the matter to Yama. The god of death came himself. Arjuna prayed to him to spare the girl but the angry god refused. So with two arrows he tied him up and dispatched him to the distant Sumeru Mountains. Later, at Hari Sahu’s behest, he set the god free.

It is the same Arjuna, who had lost his fight against the cowherds and unable to hold it in his hand, had carried his bow, Gandiva, on his shoulders, all the way to Indraprastha.

Now the question is how to resolve the inconsistencies mentioned above.  To deal with the first, we have to consider the facts about Sahadeva’s birth, which were known to everyone in the world of “Sarala Mahabharata”. He was the biological son of Pandu and Madri. As the curse on Pandu materialized, he died and with him died his wife, Madrii, after giving birth to the baby who came to be known as Sahadeva. Soon after his birth, the baby died for lack of nourishment. The god Ashwini Kumara was directed by god Surya to look after the newly born. When Ashwini Kumara found the child dead, he shared his life with him and the baby breathed again: apana tanuru se kadhile ardha atma // se mruta pandare prabesha karaile jiba/ ( Adi Parva, couplets 59-60, p. 102). So, “sharing” meant that he extracted part of the “livingness” (“life energy”) from himself and placed it in the dead body (of the baby). In “Sarala Mahabharata”, Sahadeva was not the only one who was restored to life (Parikshita was, for one example) but in no case, there was this kind of “sharing”. When Dussasana said Sahadeva belonged to the Kuru family, his assertion was not without logic. Similarly, when Duryodhana said that he did not belong to the family, he wasn’t wrong, either. But the argument against Dussasana’s assertion is that the Sahadeva who was Pandu’s son, had died and the argument against Duryodhana’s was that the body in which god Ashwini Kumara placed part of his life energy was of Pandu’s son. So both Dussasana and Duryodhana were right and wrong. It was the circumstance of utterance that mattered. The sharing of the kingdom was the issue when Duryodhana made his assertion. It was not, when Dussasana did. This in our view is a reasonable resolution of the inconsistency.

To turn to the other inconsistency. In order to resolve it, it may be said that Arjuna was utterly devastated when he had to fight the cowherds. He had hardly been able to come to terms with Krishna’ passing away. His loss of strength was a reflection of the state of his mind, in fact, of his entire being. He had recovered when he dealt with the god of death. Other interpretations of Arjuna’s defeat are not ruled out but the one given is sufficiently persuasive in our opinion. So we leave the matter at that.

One might raise the question as to why such inconsistencies are worth resolving at all. Hundreds of years after, the way an editor compiles an acceptable text - from his point of view - from a host of manuscripts, all copies and re- and re-copies of the original, which can never be found (at least in the present case), such contradictions, interpolations, minor modifications, etc., which do not affect the narrative in any significant way, are only to be expected. They are part of the process of the making of such texts. Viewed thus, resolving contradictions turns out to be a pseudo issue.

The merit of this position is undeniable. But at the same time, we wish to suggest that looking for coherence when confronted with the unexpected, the unintelligible and the contradictory is part of human nature. That is why we look for underlying meanings when the literal meaning of an utterance is incoherent, as in “The stick is coming.” As for scientific work, where “science” means “rational”, Noam Chomsky observes, as do some philosophers of science, that it aims to offer intelligible theories of the universe. One could observe that the same is true, in other ways, of the poetry of the Vedas, the spiritual contemplations of the Upanishads and the philosophical explorations in various cultures about human nature and the world we live in.  

(published in margAsia: Summer 2022. pp. 7-9. 

THE STORY OF TWO MOTHERS

In Sarala Mahabharata, Kunti and Gandhari never had an easy relationship. It was bound to be so. Kunti wanted her eldest son, Yudhisthira, to inherit the throne of Hastinapura whereas her elder sister-in-law, Gandhari, wanted her eldest son, Duryodhana, to be the king. But neither encouraged her children to be hostile to their cousins; in fact, on occasions, Gandhari harshly scolded Duryodhana for his hostility towards the Pandavas, as Kunti did Bhima, equally harshly. After the wax palace fire happened, in which the Pandavas and Kunti were believed to have perished, Duryodhana was enthroned as the king of Hastinapura. Kunti seemed to have more or less resigned to that situation. But after her daughter-in-law Draupadi’s humiliation in the Kaurava court and her sons’ (Madri’s sons were her sons too. She never differentiated between her sons, Yudhisthira, Bhima and Arjuna and Madri’s sons, Nakula and Sahadeva) exile in the forest for twelve years and their one year and thirteen days’ humiliating stay, incognito, in the kingdom of Matsya in the service of king Virata, Kunti bayed for revenge. She wanted complete extermination of the Kaurava brothers. Before Krishna went to Duryodhana as Yudhisthira’s emissary of peace, he met her and she asked him to give her his solemn word that he would work for war, instead of peace, and she told him to ensure that war took place between the Pandavas and the Kauravas. When the Great War was going on, she often reproached her sons for not being able to kill the Kauravas, even after so many days of the fight. Once she went to the extent of abusing even Krishna on this account! Her language was so venomous and insulting that Bhima got infuriated and was almost going to hit her but Krishna saved the situation for both. When the war was over, like the Pandavas, Draupadi and Subhadra, she too claimed that the victory was solely due to her.

She was there when the issue was resolved. The severed head of Belalasena told them what he had witnessed with regard to the killings during the Great War.

After the Belalasena episode, she virtually disappeared from the narrative. She returned to it when Dhritarashtra and Gandhari were going to leave the palace for their vanaprastha. In between terrible things had happened:  Gandhari had tried to destroy the unsuspecting Yudhisthira with her yogic power and Dhritarashtra had tried to kill the unsuspecting Bhima with his physical power. Both had failed because of Krishna’s intervention. Instead of reducing Yudhisthira to ashes, she had reduced her only surviving son Durdaksha to ashes. In profound grief and frustration, Gandhari had cursed Krishna for the killing of her sons. She had held him responsible for the war. He could have stopped it had he so wished, she had told him. She had cursed him that his entire family would be destroyed thirty-six years from then. The Avatara had accepted the curse of the bereaved and helpless mother. The narrative does not say anything about Kunti’s reactions to any of these.

Neither does it say anything about her response to the killing of Abhimanyu’s son in his mother Uttara’s womb, the subsequent restoration to life of the unborn dead by the Avatara and Uttara’s death. Incidentally, this killing, which deeply pained the Pandava family, was not directly related to the doings of Kauravas’ family.

Despite the uneasy relationship that she had with Gandhari, when Dhritarashtra and Gandhari left for their vanaprastha, Kunti surprised everyone by saying that she too would go on vanaprastha with them. Her reasons in Sarala’s retelling are different from the same in Vyasa’s Mahabharata. In Sarala Mahabharata, when Yudhisthira asked her why she was deserting them, she said that she would not be happy in the palace when Gandhari would live in hardship and sorrow in the forest. Yudhisthira asked her whether Gandhari was living in sorrow when she was living in misery in the forest. Kunti told her son that it would not be right to think in such terms about her, the unfortunate mother, who had given birth to a hundred sons and had lost them all. Yudhisthira told her that throughout her life she had undergone great suffering in order to bring the five of them up all alone and now by leaving for the forest, she was depriving them of the opportunity to serve her and was thereby leaving them with a huge burden of debt towards her. Kunti took him aside and told him that she had to go to the forest; it was absolutely imperative on her part. Both blind, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari would, in the forest, face all kinds of difficulties and each time they would, they would curse him. She told Yudhisthira that she would serve them well and by doing so, would protect him.

Earlier, when Gandhari had come to know that Kunti was joining them, she had asked her with concern and affection, why she was leaving her sons in the time of prosperity and opting for a life of deprivation. What she told her sister-in-law shocked Yudhisthira. She said that she had been living in great sorrow in the palace. She had sleepless nights thinking of her son Karna, who, she knew, had suffered humiliation on her account throughout his life. He was a celebrated warrior and a very virtuous person. She condemned Arjuna as a sinner – “papistha ”– for taking advantage of his unfortunate situation in the battlefield and killing him (Ashramika Parva: 2544). She told Gandhari that she had lost Ghatotkacha, Abhimanyu and many others who were her own and she had had no peace.  None in the family knew about her suffering; she hadn’t shared her grief with anyone – she had alienated herself from her own. Deeply upset, Yudhisthira told her how she had been responsible for the war: how she had desperately wanted war and how she had made Krishna promise her that the war took place. Kunti cut him short and told him that it was pointless to think of those things at that moment. She also told him that parents could not live with their children for ever.

What Kunti did can be viewed as an exemplary moral act. She voluntarily chose a life of privation and suffering over a life of comfort and that too at her old age.  And she chose to do so to serve her elder brother-in-law and sister-in-law, who did not ask for her help and did not expect her to help them. Kunti knew that she could be extremely useful to them. It is true that Dhritarashtra and Gandhari were not going to be alone in the forest and that Vidura and Sanjaya would be with them, who had served him well for years. One might surmise that she might have thought that despite that, she would be of service to them, in other ways than Vidura’s and Sanjaya’s. The text does not say anything explicitly in this regard but isn’t suggestiveness a basic feature of poetic expression?

There is no reason to suspect that she was not sincere about what she told Gandhari by way of explaining to her why she had opted for being with them. The devastating war had levelled both the victors and the vanquished – they had all become losers. The war had ended their life-long uneasy relationship.

As Kunti had told Yudhisthira, there were three of them in the Kuru family: Gandhari, Madri and she herself. With Madri gone in the service of her husband (se swami karjya kala se punyamani – literally, she did her husband’s work; she was a virtuous person. “Her husband’s work” can be understood as “she did what pleased her husband”) (Ashramika Parva: 2544), only they two were left, suggesting that she did not want to be separated from her from then on. Besides, with Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, Vidura and Sanjaya leaving Hastinapura, there would be no one from her generation in Hastinapura. For years, she had looked after her children (she had never treated Madri’s children differently from her on, as already mentioned) but had not shared her hurts and feelings with any of them. If she did with anyone, it was Krishna. And the Avatara had left the mortal world. In view of all these, it is not implausible to think that she wanted to spend her last days with those of her generation.

Viewed thus, it would appear that her decision to serve Dhritarashtra and Gandhari was not entirely altruistic, not entirely out of her sense of duty. What Kunti had told Yudhisthira in confidence reinforces this perspective, namely that the real reason for her to be with Dhritarashtra and Gandhari during their vanaprastha was to protect him from their curses. The quintessential mother, she had felt that she had still to take care of her children, who needed that care from her and she could do so by not staying with them. In sum, was her act of self-sacrifice truly virtuous, untainted by self-interest?

 Think again, if you have a doubt. Hers was a “self-centric selfless” – the oxymoron best expresses it-  act in the sense that she did not do it for glory or fame or anything to do with the satisfaction of her ego or of the hope for a blessed life in the abode of the immortals after her death or a happier life in her next birth. When the mother acts to protect her children, this natural act is virtuous by definition. Hers was a moral act and a truly impeccable one at that.

In this sad story of two mothers, one mother could not protect her children and was a helpless spectator to their destruction. But if she could not save her children, she had tried to avenge their killing. It was a motherly act, however heinous, disgusting and despicable – and that’s because she had resorted to mean treachery. The other mother chose to live a life of deprivation and suffering in the forest, trying to protect her children from possible curses from the mother who had lost her children because of her children. Just imagine the life she must have lived in the forest, in fear and anxiety, dreading the possible utterance of a curse from the mother she had gone to serve.

To end the story, the war had not ended in the battlefield of Kurukshetra. It took place, later, in the palace in Hastinapura, where Gandhari and Dhritarashtra had tried to kill Yudhisthira and Bhima. It was there in the forest as well in the form of fear and anxiety for her sons in Kunti’s mind. The closure came when the forest fire consumed them both.

FOR YOUR KIND ATTENTION, FRIENDS

This is to say that my book “Life’s Little Tales” has been published. It was published in April this year. It is published by Sikshasandhan, ND – 7, VIP Area, IRC Village, Bhubaneswar – 751015. Tel: 074- 2556109, Fax: 0674- 751015.Email: sikshasandhan@gmail.com Website: www.sikshasandhan.org.in

Price: Rs 195/

 

This book is a collection of twenty one short essays. Written in a casual and narrative mode, these personal and reflective essays are about an Odia village boy’s growing up: his negotiating with his world, relishing its beauty and facing its challenges, and trying to make sense of his world and himself. These are about the people he met, the stories he heard in his childhood, the books he read and re-read, not once but many times, the thoughts and the ideas that opened his eyes and also about the varied experiences he gathered in various real-life situations that impacted his thinking and understanding. As he responded in intellectual and emotional terms to what he had come across and internalized, he almost lived them.

These pieces explore themes ranging from foods and football to the way we use language and think and talk about it, to the predicament of the day-to-day life to some puranic tales and that fascinatingly many-layered epic – Sarala Mahabharata.

Covid -19- induced stay at home for more than a year and a half has been for me the time to live with memories and reflections.  And talking to self and listening to him, of which these pieces are an expression.

POET SARALA DAS AND HIS MAHABHARATA

 

Sudramuni Sarala Das, who belongs to the fifteenth century, is celebrated as the first major poet, the aadi kavi, of Odia literature. To him can be traced the origin of the puranic literature in Odia and no one’s contribution to this genre is richer and more impactful than his. He composed three puranas (some say he composed only “Mahabharata”) and decidedly the best and the most renowned of these is “Mahabharata”, popularly known as “Sarala Mahabharata”. A truly remarkable work, it is a re-conceptualization of the ancient story of “Mahabharata” and is a creative re-telling of it in Odia language. It is the first complete rendering (i.e., of all the eighteen Parvas) of “Vyasa Mahabharata” in any language.  And this is the first retelling of this great work in any language by a person who did not belong to a privileged caste.

 In his magnum opus, Sarala asserted that he was born to expatiate on the lila (divine play) of the Supreme god, Narayana. Thus, he used the story of the Kuru clan to celebrate the doings of Krishna, the purna avatara (complete manifestation) of Narayana, and he called his Mahabharata “Vishnu Purana”. Quite appropriately, his narrative does not start with the sarpa yajna (snake sacrifice) of King Janmejaya. The yajna was the Kuru King’s act of revenge for the killing of his father, King Parikshita, by the snake Takshaka. He was performing the sacrifice to get, not just Takshaka, but all the snakes destroyed in the sacrificial fire.

But Sarala’s retelling is situated in a different context.   Vaibasuta Manu, the lord of the aeon, pleads with the venerable sage Agastya (better known as Agasti) to tell him the way to attain moksha. And the sage tells him the story of Mahabharata. The story of the Kuru clan cannot be a moksha kavya– the lila of Krishna is. And shravana (listening with complete devotion) is a form of bhakti and it constitutes a way to attain the Ultimate State. Agastya’s response to Vaibasuta Manu’s pleading reminds us of the great sage Suka in Srimad Bhagavatav recounting the lila of Krishna to King Parikshita in his last days. Parikshita had attained the Ultimate State before Takshaka bit him. The snake bit the body. By making his sage Agatya tell Vaibastuta Manu the story of Mahabharata, Sarala was telling his audience – immediate and the future – that Mahabharata is a moksha-giving story because it is the story of the doings of the Purna Avatara Krishna. In his retelling, Sarala used episodes from Srimad Bhagavad, Skanda Purana, among others. And although Sarala Mahabharata does not contain the Bhagavad Gita, insights from it are there in many places in this remarkable composition.

So, did Sarala know Sanskrit?  It’s a question that has always been asked. Now, all one knows about him is from his own compositions. And he said in his Mahabharata that he was uneducated and dull and had no knowledge of the shastras, and that he had spent his time among the unlettered and the untutored. One could dismiss the poet’s declarations about himself by saying that during those days, such lowering of the self was the riti (style) of poetic compositions. But then where did he learn Sanskrit? How did he acquire the knowledge of at least some puranas and maybe even some shastras? One can assume that being a non- brahmin, he surely did not have the opportunity to learn Sanskrit at some place of learning - whatever formal system of education existed in his time. Did he have the opportunity of listening regularly to the learned brahmins’ explications of the puranas? What was the forum for such explications? How often were these given? Now such exposure to works in Sanskrit can just not account for the range and the depth of his knowledge of the relevant literature that his Mahabharata demonstrates. So, what can one say by way of answering the question above? One could only speculate and one speculative answer is as good as any other.

This is what Sarala said: he merely wrote what goddess Sarala, his divine mother, inspired him to write. The words were hers; he was merely the scribe. One is reminded of the composition of Vyasa Mahabharata. Sage Vyasa composed the verses and god Ganesha was the scribe. In both cases, the poet was different from the scribe. In one, the human was the poet, the divine, the scribe. In the other, the divine was the poet, the human was the scribe – isn’t that bhakti?

There is a view that Sarala’s crediting the goddess for his Mahabharata was only a strategy to escape censor and possible persecution by the brahminical elite. After all, he was a non-brahmin, who had dared to retell Vyasa Mahabharata. But I am not persuaded. By saying what he did, wasn’t he saying that he enjoyed the special blessings of goddess Sarala? By saying that he was her child, wasn’t he asserting a very close relationship with the goddess? Were these claims more acceptable for the brahminical elite?

His retelling expressed his perspective on the ancient story. As is the case of the other celebrated re-tellers of the great classics in Sanskrit language. Deviations from the original wasn’t frowned upon in the retelling tradition in our country. The basic story remains unchanged but much is added and much is set aside in the retelling. Ramayanam does not tell exactly the same story as in Valmiki Ramayana, neither does Tulsidas’s Ramcharitmanas. Sarala’s Mahabharata deviates from Vyasa Mahabharata in many ways. In Sarala’s retelling, both Duryodhana and Sakuni, died, not in disgrace but with dignity. Duryodhana died, not as the Crown Prince of Hastinapura but as its King. Before he died, he had condemned Ashwasthama for killing Draupadi’s children and he breathed his last embracing the severed heads of the children. Sakuni was doomed to avenge his father’s and relatives’ murder by Duryodhana through treachery. His father had asked him to avenge their brutal killing. Sahadeva knew this, as did Krishna. Knowing that only Duryodhana was alive and that he could fall anytime, he could have returned to his kingdom to rule. In the battlefield, Sahadeva told him this in so many words. But he chose to die as he held himself responsible for the war and the killing of his nephews, and of the innocent soldiers from both sides, whose war it was not.

Everyone in Sarala Mahabharata knew that Karna was Kunti’s eldest-born and on the Kurukshetra battlefield itself, before the war started, Yudhisthira had pleaded with him to join them and become the king after the war was won. Karna had never said or done anything to humiliate Draupadi. He maintained the dignity of his relationship with her as the wife of his younger brothers. Neither had Draupadi done anything that had humiliated Karna, even before her wedding. She hadn’t forbidden Karna to participate in the archery test; Karna had tried and failed. He wanted to win the test because he wanted Draupadi for Duryodhana, not for himself.

No one invited Yudhisthira to play a game of dice. Yudhisthira wanted to play the game he loved and heexpressed his desire to Sakuni, who obliged. It was then that Sakuni thought that he could use that opportunity to create hostility between the Pandavas and the Kauravas. It was the Sun god’s divine spouses, who clothed Draupadi, not Krishna; the god paid her for what he had taken from her in an earlier existence of her. Thus it was her karma that protected her. The Avatara was only the facilitator; he had reminded Draupadi and the Sun god about their respective karma. These are just a few of the numerous differences between Sarala Mahabharata and Vyasa Mahabharata.

Keeping the basic story intact, Sarala introduced innovations into the narrative. He re-imagined the characters and their interactions and the situations in which they were involved and produced the masterpiece of a narrative that was as convincing and coherent as the original. The innovations reflected the poet’s understanding of the human condition, the nature of agency in a pre-determined world, karma and the inevitability of experiencing the fruits of it, the role of grace in the karmic framework, the nature of dharma, inner and external obstacles for living a life of dharma, divine intervention in the affairs of the mortals and the nature of Purna Avatara, among much else. The poet reflected on the place of war in a society, given its inherent sinfulness as blood of the innocents flowed in the battlefield and he explored the possibility of alternatives to it.

As I close, I wish to say that despite the poet’s designating his work as “Vishnu Purana”, it has never got the status of a sacred text in the belief system of the Odias. People have the same attitude to this work as they have to Vyasa Mahabharata. It is banished from home. There is no Mahabharata parayana – be it Vyasa’s Mahabharata or Sarala Mahabharata. It is not recited to the dying. But there is one difference: in the temple of goddess Sarala in Jhankad, the goddess who Sarala called his mother, is Sarala Mahabharata ritually recited – ever day, as far as I know. One would love to think that the fond Mother happily listens to what her son had written. Did he write what she had told him to write? Or did he forget things here and there and fill the gaps with whatever occurred to him? Quite understandable is her interest. After all, she had told him the words in his dream, not sitting in front of him, as sage Vyasa had done. His divine scribe was sitting with him, as he was composing the slokas.

This truly remarkable work has not yet been translated fully into any language. It seems that more than a hundred years ago, parts of it were translated into Bengali but this translation is unavailable now. In the recent years, the first two Parvas have been translated into Hindi and parts of two other Parvas, into English.

And the people of Odisha have grown up with Vyasa Mahabharata, not Sarala Mahabharata.

(An earlier version of it is published in Samachar Just Click on 23.6.22)