MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) (11 page)

Yadu cried out in anguish and ran from his father’s chambers. Yayati’s heart  broke as well and he knew his judgement was harsh, much too harsh. But he was now overcome with righteous conviction. He felt that it was the duty of his son to do as he asked. And that by refusing to do so, Yadu had failed his dharma as a son and as a prince. He deserved to be disinherited. 

Turvasu, Devayani’s second son, was next to be summoned. He reacted much as Yadu had to his father’s appearance and condition – and to his demand as well. ‘No, father! I cannot do such a thing. Old people feel no desire or pleasure. They have no strength, beauty or intelligence, they are like the dead though they live.’ 

This time, the disappointment was even more crushing. Yayati could scarcely believe that even younger Turvasu, who doted on his father’s every word and deed, could refuse him. In his son’s words, he heard his mother’s voice and phrasing, and he felt certain that Devayani had warned both her sons against acceding to their father’s request. The anger he unleashed now against Turvasu was in fact intended for Devayani. 

‘Everything you possess – your eyes, heart, strength, your senses – were created by me. I am the father of that body! Yet you refuse me! Foolish boy, I disinherit you as well! Even if you become a king, you will rule over subjects who will be inferior and impure. Women of high birth shall cohabit with men of low birth. People in your reign shall eat meat and drink alcohol, mate with their own guru’s wives, or even animals when they cannot find humans to mate with! People will behave like animals or worse, like mlecchas! Only a barbarian would refuse his father, therefore you shall only rule over barbarians. I banish you to the barbarian provinces.’

After Turavasu had left, weeping copiously, Yayati decided to send for Sharmishtha’s eldest son, Druhyu. Surely she would have no reason to caution her sons against him. If anything, she would have made them sympathetic to his plight and one of them would surely agree to do as he asked. 

With renewed hope, he sent for Druhyu. But when the boy came, it was a repitition of the same scene that had taken place with the previous two boys. Druhyu was more sympathetic but said, ‘Father, I love riding elephants, chariots, horses, I am a warrior and wish to do great things in war and combat. I love women and wish to enjoy their love as well. I am not ready for this sacrifice. Please forgive me.’ 

Again, Yayati was enraged at this insubordination. ‘Oh Druhyu, you should not have refused me. Now, I have no choice but to disinherit you and banish you as well. You are hereby sent to the kingdom of Bhoja, where you shall have no elephants, chariots, horses to ride or women to love. Your only means of transport there shall be rafts, boats and swimming. And you are forbidden from entering into liaisions with women. Go now from my sight.’

The fourth son to be summoned, and Sharmishtha’s second, was Anu. With him too, it went much the same way. The difference was that Sharmishtha’s sons tried to explain and justify themselves at least, which suggested that the reasons were their own and that they were refusing their father despite their mother’s urging, not because of it. ‘Father, I love to eat and to look smart and dress well,’ Anu said plaintively. ‘If I am old I will barely be able to eat with that toothless mouth, and I would drool and dribble on myself. My garments would be stained and unclean, and I will not be able to stay clean long enough to perform a single yagna. No, I cannot accept your condition. Please understand.’

Yayati was tired and weary now, exhausted by the emotional disappointment and sense of despair that had overcome him. ‘In that case, I forbid you the wearing of new or clean garments henceforth. You will be given unpalatable foods to eat. And you are forbidden from performing yagnas ever again.’ 

Now Yayati feared that even his last and youngest son, Puru, would surely refuse him. All that had transpired pointed to that likelihood. Still, he he clung to the final straw of hope like a dying man clinging to a reed on a riverbank to save himself from drowning. 

When Puru, his youngest, stood before him, Yayati said, ‘Son. You are my youngest and most beloved. A terrible curse has been put upon me by your own grandfather, Kavya Ushanas. I am condemned to this state of old age that you see before you. Yet I still desire to live and enjoy life in a young body. I wish to enjoy many pleasures still. Therefore I entreat you to grant me your body and youth for one thousand years. After the thousand years have passed, I shall take back my condition alongwith the pain and infirmity that accompany it. What do you say to my request?’

To his astonishment, Puru said, ‘Father, my life is your’s. You sired me and everything I possess is given by you, including this body and its strength. If this is what you desire, then take it. I shall accept your curse and live a thousand years or as long as you wish, in that frail old body. It is my privilege to serve my father in his time of need.’

Yayati’s ancient eyes could barely see, yet tears sprang from them and rolled down his ancient withered cheeks. Through blurry vision, he reached out to his youngest son, clasping him to his sunken chest, and said, ‘Puru, my son. This is a great sacrifice you have made. You are truly Arya in the best sense of the word, a noble and pure soul. Your sacrifice will be richly rewarded. You and your offspring alone shall inherit this kingdom, achieve great prosperity and achieve all their ambitions and desires. This is part of the condition of the curse and hence it is no less than a decree of destiny.’

Then Yayati reached out and took his son’s hand and in an instant, both father and son were transformed, Yayati regressing in age until he was once more the virile man he had been before the curse, and the boy Puru aging until he became bent, wrinkled and withered like an old man. Both father and son exchanged places.  

8

Enjoying the gift of renewed youth gifted to him by his son Puru, Yayati appreciated life more than ever. He relished every kala and kashtha of time that passed, using it to its fullest. He had vowed that if he was given this opportunity he would do nothing that transgressed against dharma and would accomplish all the tasks that he had planned. For a thousand years he worked hard, building and consolidating his kingdom until it became one of the most powerful in the world. He made sure that his people were cared for, that nobody slept hungry or wanted for anything, that law and order were upheld and crime was curbed, that traditions were maintained, arts, crafts and culture patronized. He took special care of the aged and infirm and incapacitated, since he now knew what it meant to be one of them, making sure that they were given all the aid possible. He performed every duty and responsibility diligently. In his spare time he enjoyed himself as well, but never did he act against dharma. His was a golden reign and not only the four varnas of the earth, but even the gods and ancestors were pleased with his efforts and showered blessings upon him. 

Eventually, the time allotted to him drew to a close. He worked harder than ever, seeking to complete as much as possible before he had to go back to his sickbed. When the day finally came, he went to his son’s bedchamber and presented himself before the wasted withered figure that lay outstretched on the bed, wracked by pain and ailments. He clasped the withered bony hand of the ancient Puru and said, ‘My son, my great and wonderful son. Thanks to you, I have lived life more fully than ever before. I have fulfilled my heart’s every desire. Now, as I promised, I have returned to give you back your youth. In recognition of the great sacrifice you made, I shall honour my commitment to you. You shall now rule the kingdom and I shall retire to my sickbed. Before this day is ended I shall crown you king and before the eyes of all, we shall complete the ceremony of succession.’ 

Knowing that there would be political resistance, Yayati then sent for his advisors, his ministers, and other members of the court, representing all the four varnas. The brahmins objected most vociferously: ‘How can you install Puru as your successor? Yadu, son of Devayani, grandson of Shukra, is your eldest son and legitimate heir!’ 

Others added loudly, ‘Even if you discount him for any reason, there is a clear line of succession: After Yadu comes Turvasu, then Sharmishtha’s sons Druhyu, Anu and only then can Puru’s name be counted. This is against tradition and all laws of succession. It is against dharma!’

Yayati was prepared for this opposition. He raised his hand to command silence. Calmly he responded: ‘What you say is not incorrect under ordinary circumstances. But these are extraordinary times. I was stricken down by a curse of aging long before my prime was ended. I had important work to do to build, consolidate and strengthen this kingdom. My sons were all too young at the time to shoulder this mountainous responsibility. The kingdom would have fallen apart, chaos and ruin followed and today you have had no king to hear your complaints!’

The court was silent. Yayati’s efforts these past thousand years had been admired and appreciated by all. They conceded that he had done far more than any king in his place would have for them. They listened with respect and affection. 

‘Due to the rigidity of Shukra’s curse, the only way for me to extend my youth was for one of my sons to exchange places with me for a duration. Yet when I asked each of them in turn, all refused. This you know already. Our sanskriti clearly states that a son who disobeys his father is no son at all. Therefore I disinherited four of my sons who refused to do as I asked: Yadu is banished to another part of the kingdom, as are Turvasu, Druhyu and Anu. Only Puru was immediately responsive and obedient to me. He was more than willing to undertake this sacrifice for my sake and for the sake of the kingdom.’

Yayati pointed to his four sons standing on the throne dais, all four grown to young manhood now and in their prime, strong, handsome, virile. ‘Look upon these four sons of mine. They have enjoyed their childhood and youth these past thousand years, playing, cavorting, hunting, loving, fighting, and doing as they pleased. Now look at my youngest son, Puru.’ 

At Yayati’s pre-arranged signal, Puru came out onto the dais, bent and bowed, walking with the aid of a stick, his long white hair and beard covering most of his features, his withered limbs like twigs in autumn, his rheumy eyes peering at the court. People gasped to see him in this state. 

‘For the past thousand years, while his brothers played and cavorted, hunted and dallied, and did as they pleased, Puru has lain in my sickbed, suffering the curse that was meant for me. By the pronouncement of Guru Shukracharya himself, he consented to take the curse upon himself willingly – for it could not be done by force – and spent the best years of his life suffering thus for my sake, and for your sakes as well. What greater son could any father have? What greater king could any kingdom wish for? Therefore, I entreat you all, accept my choice of successor, Puru as the king of this land, for I believe that none but he can govern you as wisely and justly. This is my final edict as a king.’ 

And with those words, Yayati, son of Nahusha, touched the hands of his son and exchanged their conditions once more. Yayati became old and withered again, and Puru stood tall and strong and handsome. 

Without further arguments, the court and the people gladly accepted Puru as their new king and the rite of succession was completed without further delay. 

Yadu was sent to another part of the kingdom where he lived out his life to the end of his days. His people came to be known as the Yadavas. 

Turvasu was sent to yet another part of the kingdom to rule there, and his successors came to be called Yavanas. 

Druhyu’s portion of the kingdom was known as Bhoja and his people as Bhojas. 

Anu was given the most barren and desolate land to rule and only mlecchas resided there, barbarians. 

Thus was the line of Puru established over the kingdom originally built by Dushyanta and Shakuntala’s son Bharata and named after him, Bharat. 

||paksha three||

the righteous ones

1

Having instated his son Puru as the king, Yayati was filled with great joy. Despite his curse and the infirmities of old age and numerous ailments that plagued him, he decided to leave his sickbed and retire to the forest to perform austerities. He vowed that he would dazzle even the devas with his spiritual prowess before he died. Surviving solely on roots and fruit, he meditated with great intensity, conquering his senses. He lived a thousand years thus, living only on the gleanings of the forest, yet performing all his rites and austerities without exception. He performed yagnas according the rules prescribed for forest dwellers, worshipping his guests as devas by offering them his humble yet precious share of food and ghee. When the thousand years of austerities had passed, he entered the final phase of his spiritual efforts. 

For thirty autumns he survived on water alone, neither thinking nor speaking aloud. For one full year he lived solely on air, and did not sleep. For a further one year, he performed severe austerities and paid homage to five fires - not just the three sacrificial fires of ahavaniya, garhapatya and dakshina but also the two additional sacred fires samya and avasadhya – gaining great spiritual power as a result. Finally, he performed the supreme task of all in his ancient withered condition: he stood for six whole months immobile, supported by one leg. His efforts then bore fruit and he ascended to heaven. 

2

When Yayati arrived in heaven, he was greeted with great respect by all the thirty three gods, the saddhyas, the maruts, and the vasus. All paid him homage. He was permitted to move freely from swargaloka, the heavenly realm of the devas, to Brahmaloka, the abode of Brahma. He stayed a great length of time until one day, his fortunes changed. 

In the course of his visits to several gods, Yayati once visited Indra, the king of the devas. During the course of the conversation, Indra enquired of him what persuasive argument he had used to convince Puru to exchange the plight of old age with him and then again. ‘Tell me the truth,’ Indra insisted. 

Yayati joined his palms. ‘Great Vasava,’ he said respectfully, for that was one of Indra’s many names, ‘I speak only the truth always. I told Puru that he would be king of the earth in the central region, the land that extended from the great river Ganga to the great river Yamuna. This kingdom would be his exclusive domain. Because they had disobeyed me, his brothers would be apportioned the least desirable regions of the kingdom.’

Indra was skeptical. ‘Is that all you said? Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.’

‘Great Shakra, I also told him that men who are able to rid themselves of anger shall always be superior to men who possess anger. That men who forgive are superior to men who do not forgive. That because of these qualities men are superior to animals and the learned superior to the ignorant. I taught him also that even when abused one must not abuse back in return. If unleashed, anger eliminates the value of all one’s work. Cruel words will never profit a man. Nor should any person who is superior to others threaten or oppress his inferiors. Those who do so, who constantly cause pain and hurt to their fellow living beings, go to hell. He who utters harsh speech with the purpose of wounding others can never profit or prosper for Lakshmi will desert him, and his mouth is always vile and filled with filth. I taught him also that a righteous man will always be worshipped to his face but should guard his back against possible attack. Cruel words are like arrows, and cause pain and hurt whatever the time or circumstance. Learned people never issue such words or cause hurt to others. The qualities one should embody and engender always are compassion, friendship towards all living beings, charity and sweet words. One should always use words that are pleasing and peacable. Always give, never ask. Honour those deserving of respect.’

Indra did not seem pleased with these answers and asked, ‘Son of Nahusha, even after you achieved so much on earth, still you left your home and kingdom and exiled yourself to the forest to practise austerities. What did you hope to achieve through that self-deprivation and ritual?’

Yayati answered honestly: ‘To be supreme in the performance of my rituals and austerities.’

Indra looked surprised. ‘Supreme? Do you mean to say you consider yourself equal to other mortals in your austerities?’

Yayati said, ‘My Lord, you asked me to tell the truth, and I shall tell you honestly, I believe that my efforts were sincere and my austerities have no equal among men, gods, gandharvas and maharishis.’

Indra was extremely displeased by this answer. He rose from his throne, his face dark as a stormcloud. ‘Mortal king, you have exceeded your limits. To consider yourself equal to even the gods is a disrespectful statement. I cannot condone a mortal saying such things and leaving unpunished. You cannot possibly know the full extent of the powers possessed by all the gods, or judge who is truly your superior, inferior or equal.’

‘Lord Vasava, you asked me to speak my mind honestly and I did so. I meant no disrespect to you or anyone else.’

‘Even so. You have said things that cannot be forgiven. For your disrespect, I must punish you. The merits of your austerities are cancelled from this moment onwards. You shall be banished from the heavenly realms yet because you thought yourself superior to the world of men too, you shall never touch ground on the mortal realm either. You shall remain between worlds.’

Yayati joined his palms together. ‘Great one, I accept all that you say. I ask only one concession: If I am to fall from grace, let me fall among righteous men.’

Indra waved him away dismissively, ‘So be it. You will fall among the righteous. If you can gain their respect, you may regain your standing. But be warned, never again speak thus in disrespect of your equals and superiors.’

Yayati bowed low to show he understood, even as he was physically removed from Indraloka by an invisible power that cast him down from the heavenly realms. All the devas, gandharvas, maruts and vasus saw him fall and regretted his descent but none interceded on his behalf. 

3

According to the terms of Indra’s pronouncement, Yayati fell for an endless length of time, seeming never to land. He remained in a limbo state between worlds, a lokaloka which is a realm and yet not a realm. Yet even in this space between worlds, he grew aware of certain physical characteristics. The place resembled a sacrificial ground, shrouded in smoke on all sides. So dense was the smoke that it was impossible to make out either the sky or the ground, and one felt as if one were walking through clouds. For the ground underfoot was insubstantial, no more solid than smoke itself and one retained the sensation of constantly falling, falling. He grew aware of the distinctive odour of ghee and the familiar odours of yagnas, but could not actually see any sacrifice in sight or yagna fire. Through the billowing clouds of smoke, he sometimes made out tongues of flame flickering randomly, and heard the unmistakable voice of fire crackling or roaring, yet he could never come close to any actual flame.

After wandering in this lokaloka for an unknown length of time, he heard a voice speaking through the billowing smoke. ‘You!’ said the voice. ‘Fallen one!’

Yayati could not make out from which direction the voice was coming, so he remained where he was. The voice sounded once from this side, then the other, then abruptly there was a man by his side, shockingly close. Yayati reacted, startled at the sudden appearance of the man. The man’s face swam in and out of the clouds of smoke that wafted past constantly, one moment seeming as insubstantial as the smoke itself, the next instant appearing as solid as Yayati’s own face. 

‘Youngun!’ said the voice with a tone of joviality. ‘Identify yourself!’

Yayati remained silent, not sure what to say. He thought it was odd of the face to address him as ‘youngun’ for it was the stranger who appeared much younger than Yayati! He also thought he glimpsed other faces swirling in the smoke that shrouded this entire world. 

When Yayati continued to remain silent, the face said again, ‘Speak! What is your name”

Yayati held his silence.  

Finally, the voice and face seemed to realize he was intimidated and assumed much friendlier tone and expression. ‘Who are you, shining with radiance and brilliance of austerities? You seem no less glorious than mighty Indra himself and fall just as his vajra falls from heaven to earth yet never seem to land and stay on the mortal plain. Tell us who you are?’

Yayati was uncertain. He had never seen a being such as Ashtaka before. He asked politely, ‘May I in turn first ask who you are and what manner of beings you might be?’ For now he was certain there was more than one watching him. 

Ashtaka made a sound that could be construed as laughter and said, ‘Had you asked us when you first saw us, we would not have felt compelled to impudently ask you first. Certainly you may ask! We are the righteous ones. We speak as one and are as one. You are clearly a great being, equal to Indra himself in your spiritual strength, perhaps even greater than the lord of storms. You might be as great as Surya, Indra and Vishu combined in radiance! Pray, tell us your name and why you are in this place which is not a place.’

When Yayati did not answer, Ashtaka said, ‘Austere one, do not fear. Even mighty Indra, slayer of Bala, cannot touch you here. None but the righteous have dominion here. And we perceive that you are one of us, therefore you are assured of our protection always. We are lords of the movable and the immovable. We are the righteous ones. Just as Fire is lord of burning, Earth is lord of sowing, Sun is lord of light, thus are you, our honoured guest, lord of the righteous!’

Reassured, Yayati answered, ‘I am Yayati, son of Nahusha, father of Puru. Due to an answer considered disrespectful by Lord Indra, I was banished from the heavenly realms, and the merit of my austerities taken from me. This is why I find myself in this place without a location, in a state of fallen grace. The reason I did not greet you first was because I perceived that I am older than you. I have been taught that juniors must always greet seniors first, and that seniority includes not only those who are older but also those who are more learned or higher born. Those who possess all these qualities are revered even by brahmins.’ 

Ashtaka replied, ‘But is it also not true that those who are high born, learned and senior in age and austerities also revere brahmins? That contradicts what you have just said!’ And Ashtaka laughed good-naturedly. 

Yayati realized that he had found a match in wit and intelligence. He became good friends with Ashtaka and his companions and they spoke of many things together. At Ashtaka’s request, Yayati related the story of his life, his ascent to heaven, and his fall from grace. On hearing his story, Ashtaka looked crestfallen. But Yayati was quick to assure him that his commisserations were not needed. 

‘Ashtaka, I performed great austerities to accumulate spiritual riches and gained entrance into heaven. Due to my error, I lost all those riches and cannot get them back now. So be it. There is a lesson to be learned from this. Men may dispose their efforts in different ways, but even the best efforts may yield nothing, or great riches once gained may easily be lost. Such are the ways of destiny. Hence, the wise are content with whatever they possess. Success and failure are determined by events beyond one’s control. The only thing one can control is whether one feels happy or miserable. The wise are always equable, neither howling with anguish in times of grief nor exulting in times of joy. Destiny rules all beings and is always supreme. Therefore I have learned never to celebrate or steep myself in misery over victories or losses. Whatever will be will be, as the creator intended. Neither happiness nor unhappiness lasts forever. Therefore I am never too happy nor unhappy.’

Ashtaka was impressed by Yayati’s philosophy. ‘Tell us more, great King. You seem to know a great deal about this subject. You resided in the heavenly realms, among the devas themselves. Yet even after losing all that heavenly glory, you remain so equable. How is this possible?’

Yayati explained. ‘There are worse places to be, Ashtaka. I could have been hurled down to the hell known as Bhouma. There, those who are thrown down from grace become food for vultures, dogs and jackals. Each time you are eaten, your body grows again and once more you are chased down and eaten again by the beasts and birds, endlessly.’ 

‘Tell us more about this hell known as Bhouma.’ 

‘When mortals live out their lives on earth and die of old age, they ascend to different realms depending on their karma in past lives. Some are born again on earth, some go to the heavenly realms, others descend into the hell called Bhouma. Those who are flung down to that terrible place fall for a great length of time. For some it takes 60,000 years of falling before they land in Bhouma. Others fall for 80,000 years. At every moment, they are aware of the terrible fate that awaits them and the anticipation of that fate is almost as terrible as the reality itself. Eventually, they land, and the instant they touch ground, they are attacked by rakshasas with razor sharp teeth.’

‘Yet in the eternal cycle of karma, even those who fall to Bhouma must ascend and enter the womb once again, must they not? How does this happen? You have been to heaven and lived among the gods. Surely you know these things?’

 Yayati said, ‘Just as raindrops cling to flowers and fruit, thus do the dead souls whose time comes to ascend cling to the semen of men. With the semen they enter a woman’s womb and merge with the embryo. Not all become human. Some enter the seeds of trees, herbs, or other living bodies such water, air, the earth, the sky. But most become bipeds and quadrupeds.’