Srisailam is a holy town and Mandal, situated in 232 km south of Hyderabad in Nallamala hills of Kurnool district, Andhra Pradesh, India. Srisailam is one among the various Jyothirlingam of India. A multipurpose dam has been built across River Krishna and caters to the irrigation and power needs of the state. The word ‘Nalla’ means beautiful and ‘mala’ means hill.

The temple complex in srisailam, whose existing buildings date from the 2nd century AD, is the Bhramaramba Mallikarjunaswamy Temple, it is one of the 12 ‘Jyotirlingas’ in India as well as one of the eighteen most sacred goddess shrines, or Shakti Pithas.The temple is the site of Mahakali in the form of Bhramaramba. It is believed, the Vrishabha, the sacred bull of Lord Shiva performed penance here. Lord Shiva appeared before him, with his consort Parvati in the forms of Mallikarjuna and Bharamaramba.

Heroic legends from the Mahabharata and Ramayana are sculpted in stone on the temple walls and the Mahabharata epic refers to Srisailam as Sri Parvata – “the blessed hill”. Tradition, literature as well as epigraphical sources states that the sacred Hill of Srisailam has four GATE WAYS in the four cardinal directions Tripuranthakam in Prakasam District in the east,Siddhavatam on the bank of the river Penna in Kadapa District in the south,Alampur on the bank of the river Tungabhadra in Mahaboobnagar District in the west and Umamaheswaram in Rangapur, Achampeta Mandal,Mahaboobnagar District in the North.

Beside the main gateways four more Secondary Gateways in the four corner directions are also popularly known.Eleswaram located in Mahaboobnagar District, Somasila on the bank of the river Penna in South – East, Pushpagiri in Kadapa District in the South-West and Sangameswaram at the confluence of the River Krishna and Tungabhadra in Kurnool District on the North-West.

To Reach Srisailam: The nearest railway stations are Vinukonda(120 km) and Markapur(85KM) the Guntur-Hubli Section and Kurnool (190KM).Srisailam can be reached by road from Hyderabad. Hyderabad is nearest airport for Srisailam visit.
Thanks: Thanks to one and all for providing information and who helped me to write this article with useful information about srisailam temple. Special Thanks to Kiran Kumar HP & friends.

Birth of KPC

I have to fill up some gap in the narrative.

About two centuries ago, a girl in my kk family fell in love with a boy in Kunnathur mana (Padinjaredath, after the split into Kizhakedath and Padinjaredath). As he was a younger brother, he should not have married from his own caste; but the lovers managed to marry.

In due course, a bonny boy was born to the couple who lived in-cognito. The boy was regularly brought to the Peruvanam temple for Darshan of Eratteppan (it was recently that I knew about it. Eratta = double; there is a big lingam and a small one, side by side). The smart boy invited the attention of Ittivasu-aphan (Brother-in-law of Shaktanthampuran) who was meditating in the mandapam.

 On being asked: which is your family?

The boy said: Padinjaredath which surprised the aphan!

A boy in my family, unknown to me?

When matters were clarified, he persuaded the elder brother to bring the young family and both lived happily ……till fate ordered almost a violent implosion. My uncle (eldest) and father of the present kpc generaion hated each other, like Duryodhana and Bhima. My brother may know all about it. A separate kitchen was set up. Maternal grandmother who knew Mahabharat so well failed to intervene. Her opposite number was a simple village girl. After protracted cold war, it was decided to partition the property. Neither party had enough money to pay compensation. So they approached Raja of Travancore who purchased the house. Now some social activities are going on there.

Uncle moved to Kuttapuzha which is very fresh in my memory, as construction of the new house at Naruvakulangara was going on under the supervision of my father. There were a number of wooden vessels used to store sambar etc during feast and we used  to play in them as boats !From Kuttapuzha house we would climb the broken corner wall of the temple and collect marod- a long flat piece of baked earth used as tile-rendered waste after the temple was renovated, with manglore tiles. We would make multi storey structures with marod. Krishnammaman, of my age, was my playmate. Ma’s father married a second time to dispose of my ma’s elder sister(here was a tragedy before which ma’s fate pales into insignificance; at least, ma enjoyed brief spells of affluence and happiness) Krishnammaman was son to the second wife.

One day there was a commotion. My stepsister was running towards the fence. Maheswaran’n elder brother, who was later to be closely associated to me, was trying to come down from a bamboo tree. A thorn had pierced his eye. They took him to Nambisan’s clinic at Trichur, but could not save the eye.

School

My guru died, followed by several of his brothers, on account of some epidemic, I think. Vedic education came to an end. I wanted to go to school inspired by the fact, perhaps, that all my cousins in ma’s house went to school.

Somehow, I had a half shirt and half trouser. I changed into this new dress and approached uncle Vasudevaphn, who was working at high school at Cherpu. He was reading something at his bungalow at kottical. When he heard me, he quietly gave me a four anna coin (25 paise) and dismissed me.

I went straight to ma’s house at Naruvakulangara and requested the one-eyed Aniettan (Neelakanthan)to help me. Next day at 9 am we started for the high school, where he was studying. In front of the Karayogam School, he asked me to wait and proceeded further. At 10 the bell rang. I panicked and followed the children who went into the first standard. I sat with them on a bench. There were no desks. Ramankutty master (there male teachers were called so) must have been surprised. He did not say anything. I immensely liked the new atmosphere .The masterji drew a fine pumpkin on the blackboard which looked like a real one.

At lunch break, he gave me a form and told me to get it filled by elders. I do not remember who signed it. Perhaps my second uncle. I dutifully handed over the form to masterji.

That was the happiest day in my life! Goddess Saraswatiy must have been very pleased. My parents or anybody in my family, probably, did not know about it, until I returned on Friday evening.

Pidikaparambu

After partition of property between Vasudevaphan and our family, when we came away, we became refugees in our own village. Who would take responsibility of a young widow and her four children without any wherewithal? We were housed in an old uninhabited cottage. A faithful maidservant remained with mother even in her woes. Across the fields my brother and I would run to join our cousins who are children of Ramaphan, who happened to be patrnal great grandfather’s youngest son. Recently I happened to see the latter’s cousin, something like a character from history. I did not know that such a person ever lived. This is a peculiar nature. I never cared to know anything about anyone. Now I want to have a record of each member of our clan. Living ones are more than sixty in number.

Ramaphan’s son Unni (KRS) is only slightly elder to me. At that time, we were about thirteen. Next comes Vasudevan and Raman. Their orchard is very large and has a big pond and two or three wells. In the night we all used to sleep together.

At the Shiva temple Othootu was going on. Yajurveda would be recited every day for forty one days continuously, from morning till midnight with lunch break of an hour or so.

Morning breakfast at 8, lunch at 1p.m., evening light food at 6, and dinner at midnight .There were oil and vaka (powdered bark of a tree) and crushed leaves of hedge for shampoo (what a healthy life style !) at the temple tank for our use (only for Namboodiris) Our bath may take a long time, massaging, talking and swimming…..

Practically we children enjoyed the time.

Poor ma once woke up in the night and saw something hanging from the roof .The only light was from a small bottle lamp (filled with kerosene and fitted with a perforated lid through which a wick is inserted) She woke up the maid. It was a SNAKE, probably poisonless (Rat snake) chera, but remember that father died of snakebite !All through the night, they kept vigil lest it may harm the sleeping girls…

Thiruvallakavu temple, now famous for initiating kids into the world of letters, is only two miles from our house. People offer appam (rice powder and jaggery mixed and made into balls which are then fried in pure cows’ ghee) We walk the distance , circumventing the hill, with hardly any dwelling in that are (now there is bus service, tarred road, plenty of terrace buildings and Santa Maria School) and stray dogs with menacing looks, reach the main Trichur-Kodungallor road. At 3pm is the pooja. The appetizing fragrance of ghee diverts our attention while praying for sadbudhi (wisdom). We may eat the appam then and there.

One day a stranger appeared, wearing khaki trousers and half-sleeved shirt. He smiled at us and started talking, as if he knew us. He was hefty and well built and had leadership qualities. He organized local farmers to form a Kisan Sabha.We were easily entangled into a Balasangham.He became a hero-comrade M.N., later; a warrier also became an activist.

Our Cochin state was an independent entity, ruled by a king, area comprising of the land south of Bharatapuzha and Travancore state in the South, beyond Ernakulum district. There was demand for peoples’ representation in the administration and people were becoming politically conscious. A private road leading to a temple was closed to lower castes. They were agitating for the right to use the road. Police mercilessly beat them up. M.N. was among them. We saw him coming with several injuries. Our tender hearts melted, we gave the appams we were carrying, to comrade.

At that time I took Savithri, my sister to Vallachira School and enrolled her there. I do not remember any of our relatives visiting us. Not even maternal grandmother!

Avanavil mana had three elephants. The youngest Ramachandran became out of control and refused to come out of the temple tank. We all went to see the fun. It was spectacle worth watching. The animal was swimming and diving, sometimes only the four feet visible above water, moving from corner to corner within seconds, muddying the water, putting the mahouts to an ordeal. They taught him a lesson, after he was ultimately enticed with a bunch of plantains, beating him right and left. The poor creature was simply enjoying a dip in water. He was a waterfriend. I almost wept. Why do we not allow these forest animals their freedom?

Pazhai

Ultimately Veembur kadalayil mana adopted us and we moved to a cottage adjoining their’s, purchased from a nair family, marking the beginning of a lifelong relationship with V.B.S, my guide and mentor until I left Keralam for good.

The lady in white, my maternal grandma ,belonged to this house which was earlier located at Thalore.

 Pazhai(gone waste)

 The very name is a thrill. In the village library, I found my first novel(Translation of  “The Wreck by Tagore “), I devoured every word, like a thirsty man drinking dew drops. I was disappointed, when Kamala returned to her lawful husband, whom she had never seen! The love between her and  Romesh, the hero, was pure and devoid of selfishness. Alas, such love wilts under the heat of married life!

There was an ashram of Vivekananda Mission, near the river (now under RSS).The plot was donated by maternal grandma’s uncle. The library had children’s English books which I greedily read, though half the words were unknown to me.

VBS’s cousins and their children, my maternal uncles and occasionally, politicians used to frequent the VK house and, in short, a certain intellectual air prevailed there, very stimulating and invigorating. There, I learned the basics of Marxism. Gorky’s books were a favourite. Ralph Fox, Steinbeck, Howard Fast etc. were too familiar, even though, Trotsky’s autobiography was read only recently in Dyal Singh Library (he was unjustly maligned by Stalinists. He was a genius of the rank of Lenin, M.N.Roy, Mao etc).

After watching your favorite movies a couple of hundred times, you start to notice little things such as: the background posters in a scene, the personal shrines, and what god it is for, the markings on the foreheads of various characters. Despite a vast nothingness, where knowledge of Brahminism and Hinduism should exist, I am slowly starting to learn bits and pieces. Of course, I make no claim to the legitimacy of my suppositions, but it makes me happy to find an answer. Until someone is kind enough to show me the error of my ways, or I stumble upon conflicting evidence, then I shall merrily continue to spout nonsense. The best part is, that I don’t require tenure to make shit up and publish it! This is all free, so take it for what it is worth.

Gods have been bugging me lately, not in person, but as individual entities, with a long and complex mythology behind them. Movies can have lots of meta-crap and deep contextual meaning, etc ad nauseum, but if the viewer doesn’t recognize it or misses the oh-so-subtle signs, then it kind of seems pointless. If the movie is foreign to one viewer, but of the same culture as another, you are guaranteed to get two different reactions. I’m not talking about the obvious responses to standard plot lines, but the viewer who understands the cultural background will absorb certain bits of information that a foreigner wouldn’t even be aware of. The more that I learn, the more I go back to movies previously viewed, and look for symbolism.

I decided to watch ‘Pournami’ again and there is a bucket load of information that is meaningful to the character development and plot, which blew past me the first couple of times I watched it.

In the scene showing Lord Pervy McMuscles forcing Chandralahka to dance for him, he mimics her frightened attempts to flee by playing on a grand piano, with a string and wind section backing him up, behind curtains. When they stop playing for a moment, and Lord PM orders them to continue, we hear the proud beat of a native drum, and see Kesiva playing it. Of course, there is verbal sparring and then they commence to fighting, but not until Lord PM orders the musicians to play on. As the modern music plays, Kesiva gets his ass kicked, until he picks up his drum and starts playing the primal beat of the ancient gods, namely Siva, which destroys the musicians ability to play their instruments. Kesiva, gaining strength from the drum, uses it as a weapon and returns the ass-kicking in kind. The point is, the drum is supposed to be a sacred instrument of Lord Siva, and thus representative of him. The modern instruments of Lord PM, resident bad guy, represent his perverted disdain for the traditions of the people, as well as his sacrilegious lust for the woman who symbolizes the goddess, Parvati, and her ritual dance begging Lord Siva to bring forth the holy waters of Gunga, and stave off drought.

I have no doubt that there are others, but reading the Mahabharat, along with several books that interpret its meaning, is slow going. I’ll return to the subject as realization and comprehension permits.

(Synopsis of a lecture given by Jagadguru Shri Kripalu Ji Maharaj on November 17, 2009, in Bhatinda, India)

In India and in the world, a lot of religious activity and fervor are seen nowadays. There are so many temples, mosques, gurudwaras, and every other kind of place of worship, and although people go to these every day, and practice devotion according to their religion, still we find that sinful tendencies are increasing everywhere.

So much has changed in the last 100 years – what will happen in the future? So much spiritual practice wasn’t seen in the past as is seen nowadays. When so many things are being done in the name of religion, why are there so many wrong things happening in the world?

This question is asked by those who don’t believe in any religion and their question is correct. Why do people follow a religion when so many contrary results are seen everywhere? You may say that you are doing this to receive a benefit after your death. But you will receive after death only what you received when you were still alive. Nothing is added or subtracted from this.

For example, whatever a student writes in an exam book during a test is what he will be graded on. No test scorer will pull a good grade out of his pocket for a student just like that. If in the present our ideas and character are not good, then what miracle will occur after our death? God will only give us the consequence that corresponds to our present actions.

The answer to this question is straightforward. The ones who are our religious guides or spiritual teachers nowadays are wrong. What today’s gurus have taught us about dharma and action is wrong. What is the very first teaching of dharma? Pay special attention to this point. There is something wrong in this very first teaching. What is it? We have been wrongly taught who is the performer of action.

Our gurus made a mistake by not telling us at the very beginning who is the performer of action. There are only two kinds of devotion – devotion to God or devotion to the world. Apart from the individual souls, there are only two entities, God and Maya (the world). There is no third entity whose devotion we could do. The one who practices devotion to God is called a believer (dharmatma). The one who worships the world is called an atheist (nastik).

So the practioner of dharma and the performer of action is the mind. Remember this always. This is where we are making a mistake. Action doesn’t refer to your senses. God does not regard the activity of our senses as ‘action’.

In the battle of the Mahabharat, Arjuna killed millions, but these actions were not noted by Lord Krishna. Hanuman Ji killed millions in Lanka, but none of these action were noted by Lord Ram. Even our worldly government won’t charge a person with a crime if he is not at fault for what happened. If a driver accidentally hit and killed a person who unexpectedly threw himself in front of his car, the court wouldn’t give the driver a fine of even ten rupees. It wasn’t the driver’s fault. He wasn’t judged according to his physical actions, rather on his mental intention. It was just an accident.

A riot is happening in a city. The magistrate orders the police to open fire. They open fire and one hundred people die. The court asks, “Who fired the bullets?” The police answer, “We did.” The court says, “You will get the death sentence.” The police respond, “No, we won’t. Go to the magistrate and ask him why he gave us this order.” The court goes to the magistrate and asks him. He says, “Your honor, if I had not given this order, then instead of one hundred dying, thousands would have died.” He is not convicted of any crime.

You all play jokes on each other on April Fools Day. If someone decided to take you to court for some foolishness you did, if you say, “But your honor, it was April Fools Day,” the judge will say, “Oh, I see. Case dismissed!” No charge would be filed because there was no mental motivation to commit a crime.

Action refers to your mental motivation, your intention. Because of this, it is the mind that is the cause of your liberation from Maya or your bondage in Maya.

(Continued in Part 2)

© Jagadguru Kripalu Parishat and Bhakti Bliss, 2009

Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni is the story of Mahabharat retold from a woman’s perspective…more so one central character who was also considered to be the cause of the great war designed by destiny to wipe out evil as the cosmic universe termed it.. And this lady was Draupadi or Panchaali as she was commonly known as.

Woven on the basis of history and Indian mythology, the story is half fiction and completely magical…and covers most of the key aspects of Mahabharat as seen by Draupadi herself. As you turn the pages, you cannot but imagine yourself stepping back into time and witnessing the events unfold before you. Such is the power of the epic and such is the power this narration holds.

Draupadi is known to be born out of a sacrificial fire as a result of a great homam performed by king Drupad of the kingdom of Panchala. Drupad has been defeated by Drona’s disciples the Pandava princes especially one – Arjun and humbled but seeking vengence he performs the homam in the hopes of getting a son who can avenge him. The spirits bless Drupad with Drishtadyumna and Draupadi…though an unwanted child Drupad albeit reluctantly adopts Draupadi owing to the prophecy the spirits make concerning her.

From then on we witness Draupadi’s childhood and her stepping into adulthood with only her dear brother Dhri and Krishna as her companions and advisors. The readers are also provided a glimpse into the Draupadi’s psychological make-up which is dominated by her yearning to be loved unconditionally and to love in return. She feels stiffled by her father’s palace and longs to be free from the laws that govern a woman’s code of conduct. Unlike the other princesses and vain queens of the court, Draupadi is intelligent, sharp although lacking in wisdom of worldly affairs. Her only other well-wisher and companion is Dhai Ma, her nurse who both spoils her and admonishes her but loves her dearly.

Drupad holds a swayamvar intending to lure out of the Pandavas out of hiding, hoping to form an alliance with them by marrying Draupadi to Arjun. He succeeds although it results in a heartbreak for Draupadi and Karna who fall in love with each other at first sight. Draupadi also commits the first of her mistakes by asking the question she’s been warned to hold back. When she visits the humble hut of the Pandavas, Queen mother Kunti declares that all the 5 brothers should marry Draupadi thus dispelling any love that could’ve blossomed between Arjun and Draupadi. A distraught Draupadi is forced to marry the Pandavas and also bear the brunt of Arjun’s indifference towards her.

The Pandavas and their queen then move to their own palace at Indra Prastha which is built of illusions by the asura architect Maya out of a favor for them. The palace aptly named “Palace of Illusions” becomes the home that never was for the Pandavas for a decade or 2 before the fates bring about the chain of events that accelerates the advent of the great war – Duryodhan’s humiliation in the gardens where Draupadi commits the 2nd great mistake. The Pandavas lose their kingdom, wealth, honor and wife in gambling, and a humiliated Draupadi curses the kingdom of Kuru with death and destruction. This is followed by a 13 year exile which only fuels Draupadi’s vengeance against Krishna and Vyasa’s advice.

The great war finally dawns and the battle that lasts for 18 days claims over a million lives including those of Draupadi’s sons and kinsmen. The Pandavas are left with a charred kingdom which they bring back to prosperity and after installing their only heir Parikshit as the king leave for the himalayas on their last journey.

Draupadi faithfully accompanies them…but she is the first to fall. Krishna holds her hand until her dying breath and when released from the body her soul joyfully reunites in eternity with Karna’s soul.

I’ve always favored Mahabharat over Ramayan for reading and have read it a couple of times. But what made this particular narration even more powerful is the fact that it is told from a woman’s perspective…not just outlining the story in general but also describing the emotions, the thoughts not to mention the rules that governed the actions of all the men in her life. It also shows Draupadi’s transformation from a naive young girl craving for love and affection to a strong, proud woman who is blinded by vengeance, hatred and desire.

There is also a strong element of lamentation on Draupadi’s part – while she realizes that her actions have only hastened the long-pending war…she is powerless to stop them fueled by her desire, hatred and vengeance. They rule her until the very end as does her undying love for Karna. It would be one book that I’d like to re-read again and probably own a copy of although it is the author’s interpretation of the events.

For more information on Mahabharat you can either refer to Wikipedia or the following link:

http://www.sacred-texts.com/hin/maha/index.htm

Dopo averlo presentato al Castello Sforzesco di Milano, dinanzi al ministro per le Riforme, Umberto Bossi, al sindaco di Milano, Letizia Moratti e al premier Silvio Berlusconi, dal 9 Ottobre, sarà possibile per gli Italiani vedere il nuovo film sulle gesta di Alberto da Giussano intitolato “Barbarossa”. “Un’epic movie di grande emozione” del regista Renzo Martinelli che racconta “una storia universale: un gruppo di giovani che rischia la vita per dare la libertà al proprio popolo”. Un lavoro costato complessivamente circa 30 milioni di euro. Ritornano in mente le parole del Premier durante le telefonate con Saccà, nel periodo in cui furono divulgati i testi delle intercettazioni telefoniche riguardanti quelle conversazioni. Il Premier chiese, esasperato dalle pressioni di Bossi, se ci fosse o meno la possibilità di produrre una fiction su Barbarossa in RAI. Il giudizio degli Italiani non colse, e ad oggi continua a non cogliere, il rilievo che una richiesta del genere possa avere sulla creazione e amministrazione del consenso, da parte di quella parte politica, che fa dell’antitesi alla cultura identitaria dell’Italia il suo punto forte, qual è la Lega. Per poter affermare questa tesi ed esaminare l’importanza della fiction e della soap opera, nelle dinamiche comunicative riguardanti l’audience,  è stato necessario servirsi di “Media Audiences” a cura di Marie Gillespie, sociologa della Open University in Gran Bretagna e consulente della BBC. Si esamini il caso del Mahabharat a Nuova Delhi esplorato da David Herbert. Un serial televisivo trasmesso dalla televisione di stato indiana Doordarshan tra la fine degli anni ‘80 e inizio ‘90. Trasmissione del serial che fu sfruttata dai leader politici del partito nazionalista indù, il Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP).
I serial hanno incoraggiato gli spettatori a equiparare il fatto di essere indiano a quello di essere indù, e perciò, contrariamente alle intenzioni dei produttori, che speravano di favorire l’integrazione nazionale, i serial hanno esacerbato le tensioni tra gli indù, i musulmani, i sikh, i cristiani e altri gruppi di minoranze religiose. L’immenso potere simbolico dei serial ha contribuito a infiammare il conflitto all’interno della comunità e la violenza tra indù e musulmani.
Il Mahabharata è percepito come uno dei miti fondanti della società indiana. Si dice che custodisca le basi filosofiche dell’induismo e che sia re-inscritto in film popolari indiani e drammatizzazioni televisive contemporanee. Si tratta di uno dei poemi epici più lunghi mai scritti in sanscrito, ovvero “la grande storia del genere umano” oppure “la grande storia della razza indiana”. Esso racconta la lunga e sanguinosa storia della lite tra due gruppi di cugini, i Pandeva e i Kaurava, riguardo a chi dovesse regnare sul mondo/India. La lotta epica si trasforma in una guerra che infrange la terra ed entrambi i clan vengono distrutti, mostrando che la brama di potere permea qualunque cosa, dalla politica di stato alla famiglia.
In India i media sono stati a lungo sfruttati per i progetti di modernizzazione dello Stato, allo scopo di promuovere l’armonia tra le comunità, la salute pubblica, un’agricoltura moderna, la pianificazione della famiglia e lo stato e i diritti delle donne.
I serial forniscono un’illustrazione appropriata del concetto di nazione come di una comunità immaginata. Il fatto di vedere l’epica divenne un evento mediatico ritualizzato. In India e per tutta la diaspora indiana, gli indù svolgevano rituali di purificazione e inghirlandavano la televisione nel corso della trasmissione. Tutte le domeniche mattina molte parti dell’India si fermavano, mentre fino a 115 milioni di persone in simultanea consumavano una rappresentazione dell’India come nazione indù.
Lo sguardo divino, o Darshan, aiuta a portare gli dei dentro di sé. Darshan è percepito come un modo per raggiungere la comunione o unione spirituale con le divinità. La divinità dà Darshan e i devoti ricevono Darshan. L’immagine televisiva sacra santifica lo spazio che la circonda e condividere quello spazio significa avere un po’ di Darshan. Tutto ciò spiega perché attorno alla televisione venivano svolti rituali di purificazione e si posizionavano le ghirlande, si accendevano incensi, si mangiava prasad (cibo sacro) e si offrivano preghiere. L’esperienza di vedere diventa un’esperienza devozionale.
I serial fanno uso frequente di primi piani sottolineati da musica drammatica, tecniche usate abitualmente nei melodramma filmici e nelle soap opera. Il flusso narrativo è spesso fermato per incoraggiare la contemplazione devota delle inquadrature in primo piano dei visi degli dei, accompagnate da musiche devozionali.
Questo studio getta luce sull’impatto dell’introduzione dei nuovi media “prima della razionalizzazione della politica e del disincanto della società” (Rajagopal, 2001) Come già detto, nonostante il laicismo ufficiale, la serie è stata trasmessa dalla tv di Stato e autorizzata dal Congress Party al potere, nel tentativo di migliorare la popolarità del partito presentando un’immagine di un’India armoniosa. La serie invece, creando un “vocabolario visivo” espressivo dell’identità indù, ha fornito al BJP una potente risorsa culturale che ha permesso al partito di trasformassi da giocatore politico marginale a partito di governo.
Proprio in questa affermazione possiamo leggere, nel tentativo della Lega di far trasmettere la fiction su Barbarossa, il tentativo di diventare, da giocatore politico di governo marginale, il partito di governo principale, in un periodo nel quale il Popolo delle Libertà di Silvio Berlusconi si trova dinanzi a questioni morali, legate alle vicende personali e questioni pubbliche e istituzionali, legate alla bocciatura del lodo Alfano, che risultano delle questioni assai problematiche per il primo partito della maggioranza. Non a caso il regista del film “Barbarossa” definisce la sua creazione una “epic movie” che ci riporta immediatamente all’epica indiana, anche se Bossi e la Lega rifiuteranno l’analogia con un precedente riguardante la storia della televisione e della cultura indiana, trovo analogo il tentativo di emersione del partito padano attraverso l’utilizzo non convenzionale della televisione. (In corsivo la rielaborazione cronologica dei temi trattati in “Media Audiences” di Marie Gillespie).

Giulio Malcangi

The Mahabharata (Devanāgarī: महाभारत, Mahābhārata) is one of the two major Sanskrit epics of ancient India, the other being the Rāmāyaṇa. The epic is part of the Hindu itihāsa (literally “history”), and forms an important part of Hindu mythology.

It is of immense importance to culture in the Indian subcontinent, and is a major text of Hinduism. Its discussion of human goals (dharma or duty, artha or purpose, kāma, pleasure or desire and moksha or liberation) takes place in a long-standing tradition, attempting to explain the relationship of the individual to society and the world (the nature of the ‘Self’) and the workings of karma.

The title may be translated as “the great tale of the Bhārata dynasty”. According to the Mahabharata’s own testimony it is extended from a shorter version simply called Bhārata of 24,000 verses.^[1]

Traditionally, the authorship of the Mahabharata is attributed to Vyasa. There have been many attempts to unravel its historical growth and composition layers. Its earliest layers probably date back to the late Vedic period (ca. 8th c. BCE)^[2] and it probably reached its final form by the time the Gupta period began (ca. 4th c. CE).^[3]

With about one hundred thousand verses, long prose passages, and about 1.8 million words in total, the Mahabharata is the longest epic poem in the world.^[4] It is roughly ten times the length of the Iliad and Odyssey combined,^[5] roughly five times longer than Dante’s Divine Comedy, and about four times the length of the Ramayana. Including the Harivaṃśa, the Mahabharata has a total length of more than 90,000 verses.

Ex Proctor and Gamble Executive Shri Gurcharan Das these days has been evangelizing (and pontificating) on Dharma and Mahabharat(MB) a lot. He has authored a book  ‘The Difficulty of Being Good: On the Subtle Art of Dharma’. It appears his native father’s native spirit’s calling was tough for Gurcharan to resist. 

This post an outcome of two responses to his blog posts, acts as a reality check – both on the merit of his recent work and its relevance. 

On September 27, Gurcharan blogged: “Is the middle path the way to peace with Pakistan?”. In the blog Gurcharan wrote MB would advocate middle path of negotiation”. The following responses are not limited to his blog posts but the  wider positions he has taken elsewhere as well.

Gurcharan

Mahabharat as we native Indians know is an engaging text. So any synthesis/analysis based on it is bound to be interesting. 

There are errors in your allegorical references to Mahabharat. You have tried retro fitting Yudhishtr within cages of your contrived conception. Such an effort howsoever interesting it might sound is unlikely to be an effective vehicle for propogation of Dharma. One needs to be careful that they dont end up violating Taittriopanishad’s basic Dharmic dictum – ‘Satyam Vada’.

Dice game in Sabha Parv was not rigged. MB explicitly points Yudhishtr’s love for game of dice and his competence in the game (Shakuni of course was better. As an aside MB naive folks will be surprised to realise that in Vyasa’s MB, Shakuni was not in favor of Duryodan’s dispossessing Yudhishtr. When first consulted he in fact recommends harmonious coexistence)

In MB Yudishtr manifests the intent to be anointed Chakravarthin (Some might call this intent Greed). Hence his Raja Suya Yagn. He voluntarily enters the game and one of his motivations is he can win Duryodhan’s assets (again some might call this motivation greed). On these considerations, it is tough to blame either Yudhishtr or for that matter Duryodhan for his intent to dispossess Yudhishtr of his kingdom considering the conception of kshatriya dharma. One cant blame China for wanting to be the middle kingdom, nor US for formulating strategic containment of China. 

You have referred to Yudhishtra’s deploying his commitment to “Vaak” as to why he should not immediately fight it out. In the Yudhishra-Draupadi-Pandav Sambhashan in Van Parv, one of the reasons Yudhishtar does not immediately opt for war is because of the strength of Duriyodan’s mobilisation potential. It was not just the word. He wanted to build capability. And as we know in Dron Parv, Yudhishtr and Bhim indeed short sell Dharma. 

Pandits have their own reasons why Yudhishtr was not the right person for receiving Gitacharya’s message. There in lies your possible mistake in depicting Yudhishtr as hero for voicing pragmatic position.     

In the Udyog Parv when confabulations happen on sending emissary to Duryodhan’s court, Balaram takes the position “Once Yudhishtr has gambled away his assets, he cant demand them back by right, or by coerceive threat of violence”. So neither the case for war nor the outcome can be interpreted in digital terms. Duryodhan’s last General ensured Pandav victory was pyrrihic. 

Interpreting native concepts from a western perspective is not a crime. But usually the spirit of the work is better carried and reflected when the perspective is inside out; Paul Brunton, Edwin Arnold et al. worked from the inside-out perspective and made meaningful contribution. The outside in perspective from the likes of Stuart Mill, Macaulay, Nehru introduced Vishama into the native soceity. It makes one think you could have saved yourself and the reader time, and delivered superior output by investing a bit of your time by learning what makes Dharma from native Indian sources. While skepticism on assertions by natives is not necessarily an error, bypassing them possibly is a serious mistake considering the nature of subject -Dharma. Tendency to interpret native texts for non natives usually necessitates confirming to one sine qua non – thorough understanding of native traditions on the text.

Check out the outcome of an effort based on native traditions which strikes the heart of the matter and provides  superior guidelines on practicing art of Dharma than your verbose effort. 

Your amateurish effort articulating Dharma can be a stepping stone for interested readers towards understanding Dharma. For that to happen, you/reveiwers should desist from presenting your work on Dharma from an authoritative perspective. It can at best be a kindergarten’s source for learning about Dharma – work in progress understanding Dharma. Your penchant to articulate “Mahabharata/Bhisham Pitamaha says do this…do that”..is best avoided on account of your clear inadequate acquaintance on the subject, lack of subject matter expertise. There in lie concerns about your book, its narrative. 

This is not to denigrate your amateur’s effort. ZIM believes that while there are serious shortcomings in your narration, by affirming the current relevance of native Indian tradition and alluding to its superiority over dogmatic totalitarian ones, and by connecting your corporate experience to Yudhishtra’s challenges, you seem to have made your book relevant.

ZIM

Food for thought on your blog post: Just as Hastinapur/Indraprasth/Gandhara shenanigans was fixed by someone from Dwaraka, should Indians again need to look at Gujarat for solution as Ratan Tata, other nationalist Indians assert?

Gurcharan also blogged on what he called “The Dilemma of a liberal Hindu“

ZIM’s response is provided below. 

Gurcharan

Namaskar

There are people offended by this innocuous word Namaskaar, especially the ones that believe Diwali is pollution causing wastage of resources while xmas is celebration of greatest thing that ever happened. 

This is an outcome of the xian/islamic civilisational assault that goes on against native Indian beliefs under the garb of secularism. You are perceptive enough to understand that the above assertion is not untrue. Indian Government’s selective targeting of temple control, temple property, attack on Karnataka priests by communists in Nepal are some of the manifestations of this assault.

When someone equivocates between seculars and Hindutvavadis, s/he is probably guilty of the 1/4th sin that Mahabharat apportions to the silent accomplice to the crime that cites “Hamaam Mein Sab Nange Hain” and refuses to take a dharmic position. The blog post on Radha Krishna speaks out why the costs of absence of moral clarity on this issue will remain high. 

Common natives instinctively seem to understand the moral position and ground realities better than the intellectuals. There are chowkidars of apartments that see with perspicacity, RSS is one force standing between complete islami-isaisation of India/undermining of native traditions. 

Heart of the issue in India is that Dharma has a higher chance of success with RSS/BJP on the reins rather than congress I (islami-isai). Ratan Tata et al. instinctively seem to grasp this as they publically batted for NaMo, BJP.

A sad consequence of the colonialist historiography of the 19th century Indologists is the comparative neglect of India’s interaction with Africa. Cyril Hromnik’s Indo-Africa   (1981) is the only book on the Indian contribution to the history of sub-Saharan Africa that I am aware of, but it is just an exploratory study. The story of India’s interaction with Egypt is better known, if only to scholars. Two important figures in this story are the Mitanni king Tushratta and the New Kingdom pharaoh Akhenaten. But even this encounter between the Indoaryan speaking Tushratta and the Egyptian Pharaoh is not well understood although it was to have far-reaching implications for world history.

The Sun King Akhenaten of Egypt (ruled 1352-1336 BC according to the mainstream view) was a son-in-law of Tushratta, the Mitanni king of North Syria, through queen Kiya (The name Tushratta is spelled Tuisrata in the Hittite cuneiform script, which does not distinguish between “d” and “t” very well. Some have suggested that the Sanskrit original is Dasaratha, a few others that it is Tvesaratha (having splendid chariots), a name which is attested in the Rigveda. Letters exchanged between Akhenaten and Tushratta have been found in Amarna in Egypt and other evidence comes from the tombs of the period, which have been discovered in excellent condition. The Amarna age is one of the best-known and most romantic periods of ancient Egypt. Akhenaten was revolutionary in his religious beliefs, and many argue that his ideas mark the beginnings of the Western monotheistic tradition. This period also saw the fabulously beautiful Nefertiti, Akhenaton’s first queen who came from a mixed Mitanni family, palace intrigues, artistic triumph and great personal tragedy. In this essay, I shall investigate the question whether the worship of the

Sun introduced by Akhenaten might have had connections with the Indic beliefs of the Mitannis. Implications of this early encounter between the Indic and the Western worlds will also be examined in view of the widely accepted opinion amongst biblical scholars that Akhenaten’s beliefs were the model for the later Jewish and Christian beliefs. I shall present evidence indicating that the famous hymn to Aten by Akhenaten which is seen as a precursor to Psalm 104 of the Bible was influenced by the “Vedic” hymns that were a part of the Mitanni heritage. In view of the important role that biblical ideas have played in history, the question of the relationship between Akhenaten’s monotheism and Vedic ideas is of great significance. It provides a lesson that the past consists of unexpected complexity and that influences have flowed in different directions. I am not suggesting that the encounter between India and West Asia was one-sided; India must also have been changed in many ways.

The Mitanni

The Mitanni, who worshiped Vedic gods, were an Indic kingdom that had bonds of marriage across several generations with the Egyptian 18th dynasty to which Akhenaten belonged. The Mitanni were known to the Egyptians as the Naharin (N’h’ryn’), connected to the river (nahar), very probably referring to the Euphrates. At its peak, the Mitanni empire stretched from Kirkuk (ancient Arrapkha) and the Zagros mountains in western Iran in the east, through Assyria to the Mediterranean sea in the west. Its center was in the region of the Khabur River, where its capital, Wassukkani was probably located (Figure 1).

The first Mitanni king was Sutarna I (good sun). He was followed by Baratarna I (Paratarna, great sun), Parasuksatra (ruler with axe), Saustatar (Sauksatra, son of Suksatra, the good ruler), Paratarna II, Artadama (Rtadhaman, abiding in cosmic law), Sutarna II, Tushratta (Dasaratha), and finally Matiwazza (Mativaja, whose wealth is thought) during whose lifetime the Mitanni state appears to have become a vassal to Assyria.

The early years of the Mitanni empire were occupied in the struggle with Egypt for control of Syria. The greatest Mitanni king was Sauksatra who reigned during the time of Tuthmose III. He was said to have looted the Assyrian palace at Ashur. Under the reign of Tuthmose IV, more friendly relations were established between the Egyptians and the Mitanni. The daughter of King Artad¯ama was married to Tuthmose IV, Akhenaten’s grandfather, and the daughter of Sutarna II (Gilukhipa) was married to his father, Amenhotep III, the great builder of temples who ruled during 1390-1352 BC (“khipa” of these names is the Sanskrit ksipa, night). In his old age, Amenhotep wrote to Tushratta many times wishing to marry his daughter, Tadukhipa. It appears that by the time she arrived Amenhotep III was dead. Tadukhipa was now married to the new king Akhenaten, becoming famous as the queen Kiya (short for Khipa).

The Egyptian kings had other wives as well. Akhenaten’s mother, Tiye, was the daughter of Yuya, who was a Mitanni married to a Nubian. It appears that Nefertiti was the daughter of Tiye’s brother Ay, who was to become king himself. The 18th dynasty had a liberal dose of Indic blood. But how could an Indic kingdom be so far from India, near Egypt? A plausible scenario is that after catastrophic earthquakes dried up the Sarasvati river around 1900 BC, many groups of Indic people started moving West. This idea of westward movement of Indic people is preserved in the Vedic and Puranic texts.

We see Kassites, a somewhat shadowy aristocracy with Indic names and worshiping S¯urya and the Maruts, in Western Iran about 1800 BC. They captured power in Babylon in 1600 BC, which they were to rule for over 500 years. The Mitanni, another group that originated thus, ruled northern Mesopotamia (including Syria) for about 300 years, starting 1600 BC, out of their capital of Vasukhani. (For Mitanni names, I give standard Sanskrit spellings rather than the form that we find in inscriptions in the inadequate cuneiform script, such as Wassukkani for Vasukh¯ani, “a mine of wealth”.) Their warriors were called marya, which is the proper Sanskrit term for it. In a treaty between the Hittites and the Mitanni, Indic deities Mitra,Varuna, Indra, and Nasatya (Asvins) are invoked. A text by a Mitannian named Kikkuli uses words such as aika (eka, one), tera (tri, three), panza (panca, five), satta (sapta, seven), na (nava, nine), vartana (vartana, round). Another text has babru (babhru, brown), parita (palita, grey), and pinkara (pi˙ngala, red). Their chief festival was the celebration of visuva (solstice) very much like in India. It is not only the kings who had Sanskrit names; a large number of other Sanskrit names have been unearthed in the records from the area.

Documents and contract agreements in Syria mention a warrior caste that constituted the elite in the cities. The ownership of land appears to have been inalienable. Consequently, no documents on the selling of landed property are to be found in the great archives of Akkadian documents and letters discovered in Nuzi. The prohibition against selling landed property was dodged with the stratagem of “adopting” a willing buyer against an appropriate sum of money.

Information of the mythology of the Hurrians of the Mitanni is known from related Hittite and Ugaritic myths. The king of the gods was the weather god Teshub who had violently deposed Kumarbi paralleling the killing of Vrtra by Indra. Major sanctuaries of Teshub were located at Arrapkha (modern Kirkuk) and at Halab (modern Aleppo) in Syria. Like Indra, Teshub also had a solar aspect. In the east his consort was the goddess of love and war Shaushka (Venus), and in the west the goddess Hebat (Hepat). In addition, a considerable importance was attributed to impersonal gods such as heaven and earth as well as to deities of mountains and rivers. Temple monuments of modest dimensions have been unearthed. The general Indic influence in the area may also be seen in the comprehensiveness of the god lists. The most “official” god list, in two Ugaritic copies and one Akkadian translation, consists of 33 items, exactly as is true of the count of Vedic gods. These gods are categorized into three classes, somewhat like the three classes of the Vedic gods, although there are differences in details.

Greek accounts tell us that the Ugaritic believed in a cosmic egg out of which the earth emerged which is reminiscent of Brahmanna of the Vedic view. How do we know that the Mitanni were Indic and not Iranian? There are several reasons, but to be brief, I shall only give three: 1. the deities Indra, Mitra, Varuna, and Nasatya are Indian deities and not Iranian ones, because in Iran Varuna is unknown and Indra and Nasatya appear as demons; 2. The name Vasukhani makes sense in Sanskrit as a “mine of wealth” whereas in Iranian it means “good mine” which is much less likely; 3. satta, or sapta, for seven, rather than the Iranian word hapta, where the initial ‘s’ has been changed to ‘h’.

Why could not the Mitanni be the descendents of a pre-Vedic people as in the Gimbutas model of the spread of the Indo-Iranian people from the Kurgan culture of the steppes of Central Asia? They would then have had no particular affinity for Indic deities. If the pre-Vedic people in Central Asia already had Indin deities, how would these small bands of people impose their culture and language over what was perhaps the most densely populated region of the ancient world. Furthermore, that view does not square with our knowledge of the astronomical tradition within India. The Vedic Samhitas have very early astronomical and its geography is squarely within India. The Vedanga Jyotisa, a late Vedic text, already belongs to the middle of the second millennium BC. The earlier texts remember events within the Indic geographical area going back to the third and the fourth millennia BC.

The theory of a proto-Indoaryan people in Iran from whom the Aryans of India descended in the second millennium BC does not work for the same reasons. The idea of invasion or large-scale immigration of outsiders into India displacing the original population in the middle of the second millennium BC has been rejected since it is not in accord with archaeological facts, skeletal records, and the continuity of the cultural tradition.

In a recent synthesis, it was concluded that “there is no archaeological or biological evidence for invasions or mass migrations into the Indus Valley between the end of the Harappan Phase, about 1900 BC and the beginning of the Early Historic period around 600 BC.” Other scholars see no break in the cultural tradition between 4500 BC and 600 BC.

The Indian textual tradition also does not permit us to accept the Gimbutas model because of the length of time required for the rise of the voluminous Indian literature.

Panini already in the 500 BC knows of the Bharata and the Mahabharata in one of his sutras (6.2.38). This means that the epic was substantially complete by 500 BC, although it may have undergone further modifications and interpolations in subsequent centuries. The evidence of the sutra by Panini seems to have escaped most historians although V.S.

Agrawala did call attention to it decades ago.

The Mahabharata tradition itself acknowledges that the text was originally 8,800 verses, composed by Krsna Dvaipayana Vyasa, when it was still called Jaya. Later, it was enlarged to 24,000 verses and came to be called Bharata. It was transmitted by Vyasa to Vaisampayana and finally recited by Ugrasravas as the familiar Mahabharata of the 100,000 verses; the two latter bards appear thus to be responsible for its enlargements. Since the enlargements of the Mahabharata are likely to have stretched over several centuries, it is unlikely that the text would not remember the migrations out of Central Asia as is required in the Gimbutas model.

Furthermore, the astronomical references related to the Asvamedha rite in the Mahabharata point to its extreme antiquity going back to the 4^th millennium BC, which cannot be squared with the Gimbutas model.

“I can’t but agree with what you are saying”, said NPE, “still I cannot shake off the belief that performance is as important as the other variables in your equation” in a meek tone.

It was with a great effort that the accountant resisted the strong urge to bring down the glass hard on the flat pate of the mutterer of such bilge. For not only is he a sworn pacifist but also a supreme visionary – at least to the extent of seeing who the bill footer is in an hour’s time from now.

“It is never easy to accept the obvious. But wisdom will eventually dawn and one sees things for what they are. Let me…” the words were drowned in the din that rose from a far corner in the room. After a 2 minute interval in which all the faces in the bar turned to the corner; the conversation at the table resumed; once again to be interrupted when the bearer came with repeats.

“What was it all about?” inquired the accountant.

“Nothing much sir, just a misunderstanding that arose because of the mismatch in demand and supply. The gentleman over there asked for Cobra beer, which we at the moment do not have. One thing led to another but before it could worsen; the sensible gentleman there saw it fit to settle for the Golden Eagle, of which we have enough stock, upon the arrival of our competent bouncer on the scene.”

“What a coincidence! Those were the principle characters in the next story I was about to tell you”.

“The beers?”

“No bears. Just a soaring eagle and a slithering snake.” “Which of these two, if they were competing colleagues in a corporate like ours, is better placed to win the race to the corner office?” posed the accountant.

NPE was quick to take it on the front foot “Eagle”

“Why?”

“Because he:

• Is designed and destined to reach and roam freely those heights which others can only dream of doing on their own;
• Has a sharp vision, to see things even from 30,000 feet up;
• Can laser focus on a moving target and swoop down quickly to strike at will;
• Leads a largely risk-free life; except those from force majeure, like an occasional lightning or thunder;
• Has strength, speed, striking capabilities par excellence
• Adorns the flags of many superpowers including gods”

Leaning back into his chair, the NPE stirred and sipped the contents of his glass, savoring the moment. He has laid it out well and was happy to get coherent and well constructed points across for the first time in the day.

The accountant smiled and asked his next question.

“Who does your mother feed eggs and milk to in temples on the fourth day after Diwali*”?

Stumped by the question, but nevertheless regaining his composure quickly, answered the NPE “Snake”. With a sinking feeling that this might be another of those discussions which, eventually will end up with him being at the receiving end of the morals; he waited for the next one.

“Which of these two has more movies written after itself, sometimes even starring in the title role?”

“Sss…Oh, what’s the point? Get to the story quickly” said a resigned NPE settling down to get another earful.

“It was not always the case, this subservience of eagles to snakes. In fact both these creatures started out as siblings, born out of the same father the great sage Kashyapa. Vinata and Kadruva, his two wives bore the eagle Garuda and the entire serpentine species respectively. Along the way, Kadruva the younger of the wives, using her wiliness (for where do you think the snakes got this trait) tricked Vinata over a minor point and turned her and her son into Kadruva’s slaves.

It was the eagle Garuda who as you might imagine had a head start, in line with the first 5 points of your case for the eagle. He could carry hundreds of his step-brothers on his giant wings; playfully soar to the skies swoop down in a jiffy giving them, the snakes, one hell of a rollercoaster ride on earth. This continued from their early childhood till all of them entered manhood, when the age of innocence is melting away giving way to jealousy, competitiveness and a whole host of other manly traits.

One day, while at his playful best Garuda took his cousins right upto the sun, the searing heat of which burnt most of them and rendered the rest unconscious. Angry their mother Kadruva, invoked the slave clause, asked Garuda to bring back her sons to life by bringing Amruta (Ambrosia) from heaven, or else…

Eager to do the right thing and release self and mother from the shackles of slavery, Garuda nodded and in a moment reached the skies and landed in Amatravathi, the city of gods. Fighting the might of the gods residing in Amaravathi, taking the pot of Amruta; and heading back home was a moment’s job for our great eagle friend. In spite of protestations by Indra, the king of gods, of the perils of making snakes invincible and immortal; Garuda exchanged it for his mother. Indra meanwhile using his slyness stole the Amruta before the snakes could have their fill. Scalded snakes and their mother were scorned and vowed to get back at the eagle at the very first opportunity, which didn’t take long to come.

Vishnu, CMD of all gods, pleased by Garuda’s performace offered him a post of his choice and perks that he willed, at his place.

Garuda the naïve soul, having his heart at the right place, asked for his brothers to be risen from ashes and also given key positions of their choice at Divinity Incorporated. The snakes, knowing that this is their chance to score one up on the eagle forever, using their foresight, decided on proximity as the key ingredient. Settling for what appeared to be mere ornamental posts, Adi Seshu, the first snake (eldest brother) offered himself as the celestial bed for Vishnu; Vasuki the second one, as a necklace for Siva, the destroyer.

Garuda, weighed options and chose to be the carrier of Vishnu; a position which best fits his capabilities and leverages his skill set. But alas, little did he realize that Vishnu takes different roles in different times and doesn’t always necessarily take his vehicle everywhere and everytime. But whatever his daily deeds at night he needs a bed to rest and to Adi Seshu does he retire too. Siva meanwhile carries Vasuki everywhere he goes, for a man of minimal adornments and wants; this necklace is one thing that caught his fancy well.

As time progressed; the pre-eminence of Garuda decreased and he was reduced to a mere Executive Assistant; called in only on occasions -once a quarter or year; when Vishnu feels like having an outing (A mere ceremonial ritual these days in temples across the country).

The snakes, owing to their mere proximity and nothing more, have legions of devotees who petition them very often and appeasing them in all possible and befitting manner – putting them on pedestals; offering them milk n eggs; celebrating their birthdays with vim and vigor; taking them on as role-models….

The Eagle since that fateful day when he let his heart rule his head; is a mere shadow of his former capable self; living in the shadow of his slimy siblings”

Stirring contents of his glass, the accountant stirred something else too, with his words.

“Capabilities, skill sets; right fit; doing the right thing; continuous performance…all these are aspects you must appreciate. In others. And from a distance. It’s proximity ultimately that you should pray for to get what you want”

* Festival of lights

The Mahabharat and The Ramayan are India’s two greatest epics . Both are celebrated as the victory of good over evil . The good versus evil story is as old as civilization itself . But , what sets these two epics apart is the absence of absolute and outright evil figures . In both these epics, the antagonists suffer from the vices that are found in each and every person – jealousy, arrogance , greed , lust , vanity etc . The antagonists Ravan and Duryodhan are more tragic than despicable .

In the Ramayan , Ravan is a highly learned and fearless Brahmin . He is a just and generous king for his people . Ravan had every right to wage war against Ram for Lakshman’s humiliation of his sister Srupanakha after she proposed to Ram . However , Ravan’s deceitful abduction of Ram’s wife Sita and attempted seduction was a cowardly and despicable act , an act of adharma . The figures of Meghnath, his son and Kumbhkaran,his brother are the most fascinating . Kumbhkaran was believed to be a noble warrior who chided Ravan for his cowardly action of abducting Sita but ultimately sided with Ravan out of loyalty . Similar is the case of Meghnath , a fierce warrior  who chose loyalty over everything else . While , both of them chose loyalty and sided with adharma , they are respected and venerated for the same . While Vibhishan , who forsake loyalty and sided with Ram and dharma is synonymous with treachery .Vibhishan’s name died with him but Indrajit’s name has lived till now.

The Mahabharat too deals with the conflict within man . The principal antagonist Duryodhan is jealous of his cousins . He cheats them out of their kingdom and humiliates them and their wife . There is no doubt that he’s in the wrong but still figures like Dronacharya , Bhishmapitama , Kripacharya and Karna support Duryadhan out of loyalty to him either as a King or as a friend .

So, the question I ask myself is what is a man to do ? If he forsakes loyalty and sides with dharma , he is damned like Vibhishan . If he chooses loyalty over dharma , he faces the same fate as Karna and Bhishma . Which is the right path ?

The heavily pregnant woman was writhing and moaning in her bed, caught up in a nightmare that she couldn’t break by just waking up. Her husband had spent a sleepless night by the window, looking out onto the river Yamuna which seemed to be as restless as his wife’s sleep. He now turned away from the window to look at his wife, his forehead creasing in concern at her moans. He went and sat by her side on the bed and was about to rouse her when with a shuddering cry, she sat up suddenly, which was a feat in itself since her big belly usually prevented from even turning to her side. Her eyes wide in terror, her face and neck dripping with sweat, she was clutching her stomach and staring into the distant, as if still caught within the nightmare. 

“Devaki”, her husband’s voice was calm and gentle. She looked at him, as if realising for the first time that he was beside her.

“My Lord”, she cried, clutching his outstretched hand.

“My Lord, he’ll kill him, he’ll kill our baby!!” she burst into unrestrained tears, convulsing with each sob. 

“Who, my dearest, I don’t understand what you are trying to say. Devaki, my love, it was merely a dream, a nightmare, that’s all, no one will harm our baby”, his voice, low and comforting, made Devaki cry even harder.

“It was a prophetic dream, My Lord, Kansa wants to kill my baby!” she looked into his eyes, pleading with him to believe her.

Vasudev sighed, stroking his wife’s hand, speaking words of comfort to try to calm her down until eventually her sobs died down. He knew that Devaki’s fears were accurate up to an extent, but surely, Kansa couldn’t be so cruel as to kill his only surviving nephew! And yet, the information brought to him by his spies confirmed his suspicions’ as much. Kansa, who had no one else to blame but himself for his misfortunes, was looking for a scapegoat to sacrifice, in order to calm the ever increasing voices of dissent calling for him to be replaced as regent. The people, as frightened as they were of Kansa, wanted to get rid of him. Unfortunately for Vasudev and Devaki, the fact that they had been spared by Kansa, was taken as a sign that Devaki was carrying the child who would kill Kansa. They were calling the child the chosen one.

Kansa, however, wasn’t a fool and had methodically killed every single person who had been a potential threat to his claim to the throne. The first person to disappear had been Devaki’s father. The official story they had been given was that he had inadvertently killed a sage whilst out hunting and therefore had retired to the forest to do penance. But Vasudev’s spies had brought back stories of the old king being held in a secret dungeon underneath Kansa’s palace. Over the course of a year, there had been numerous disappearances of the rest of Kansa’s relatives and his siblings, until only Devaki survived. Eventually, Kansa had stopped bothering to explain each disappearance to his subjects and ministers and no one had dared to speak out publicly about his even though they knew he was to blame. Anyone who had been brave enough to speak about replacing him as King publicly had met with the same fate – they had disappeared without a trace. It was said that he was disposing of his victims by burying them alive within his palace grounds. It was a fate that frightened people enough to quieten them into submission.

Devake had just announced her 8^th pregnancy when Kansa had stormed the palace with the intention of killing his sister and her family. Vasudev flinched everytime he thought of how he had pleaded with Kansa to spare his family.

“Please, our children are young, and Devaki too is pregnant and does not keep well. My dear friend, have you forgotten that she is your beloved sister?”

Kansa had not forgotten, out of all his siblings, Devaki had by far been his favourite. For no matter how cruel he had been, even as a child, she had always had a kind word to say to him. And yet, she could not be allowed to live – he knew that she would never try to claim his throne, she simply wasn’t that ambitious and Vasudev was too much of a wimp to try anything either. But her offspring? Seven sons and possibly another one on the way, all with a legitimate claim to the throne. No, he simply could not risk it.

And so, even though he had spared the lives of his sister and brother in law, he had taken their young sons, one of whom had been merely an infant of 15 months and still had to be nursed by his mother, and thrown them, one by one, into the river Yamuna where they all drowned, crying out to their uncle to save them. Kansa, who had rejoiced greatly every time his favourite sister had given birth, lavished his nephews with presents and treated them as his own, now merely looked on as his nephews were taken, one by one, into the depths of Yamuna. Had he imagined it or had they looked to him with hope at first and then resentment in their eyes, silently cursing him for not saving them. Kansa had shuddered on that dark stormy night as he tried to block the screaming voices of infants from his ears. He turned back to the palace and gave instructions that no one was to leave unless he permitted them. He figured that there was no point harming his sister and her unborn child. Not yet anyway, when the time came, he would personally make sure his new nephew did not live to see the sun rise!

Vasudev was shaken out of his reverie by his wife’s drooping head on his shoulders, she had fallen asleep again. He gently laid her back down on the bed and then went back to the window to look out at the river where seven of his sons slept. Devaki did not know the outcome of Kansa’s horrendous act, not yet. Vasudev had not deemed it appropriate to tell her that all their hope now rested on the unborn child in her womb, for everyone else who could have been a potential ruler was dead. Devaki was still under the illusion that her sons too were being held captive in Kansa’s dungeons.

There was a soft footfall outside the door, followed by a low whistle. Vasudev looked once more at the sleeping form of his wife and then turned swiftly and walked out of the door and into the outer atrium. Just outside the door, he detected a shadow of a man. He walked upto the door and stood just near the entrance and said in a low voice,

“Who is it?”

“Your servant, Vishwa” came the response,

“Then how do you address your master?”

“Hail Shree Rama!”

Vasudev relaxed and smiled. “Come in dear Vishwa, I have been awaiting you”

Vishwa, having passed the test, entered and bowed low.

“Your majesty, I bring some good news that I hope will please you”

“Yes, I could do with some good news”, Vasudev sighed.

“Nandrai Maharaj of the Vrindavana village has a message that he has asked me to give you, with your permission, may I repeat it?”

Vasudev looked over his shoulder to the veranda. Vishwa caught his gaze and said in a reassuring voice,

“My Lord, they had been paid and dispersed. Do not worry about being overheard. They all work for us now anyway”

Vasudev looked at Vishwa.

“That is true, but Kansa is no fool, he changes the guard every two weeks, we may have bought these men but we may not be able to buy the others”

Vishwa bowed once again,

“Then it is imperative that I deliver my message without delay, My Lord, for it is important to take immediate action in order to save your only offspring.”

“Very well, you may deliver your message but first please take a seat”

“Thank you my Lord,” Vishwa sat on the low stool offered to him and waited patiently until Vasudev had occupied his seat opposite him

“Here is the message from Nandrai, the head of the Vrindavana village: Greetings to Prince Vasudev, I hope and pray for you in your time of need my friend, and I am grateful that you have chosen me to be of assistance. I have indeed not forgotten the favour that you did for me in saving my village from the clutches of the tribals when they had attacked. And for this I am eternally grateful.

My wife, Yashoda is also pregnant and the priests have predicted that she will be giving birth in one weeks time. It would be an honour for me to accept your son into my household and bring him up as my own until the time is right for him to ascend his throne but Sire, what will happen to my own son? The astrologers have predicted just one son for me and I fear that it will become apparent that the child in my house is not my own. To bring up two children will surely be noticed when my wife gives birth to just one. I pray for you to find a solution to this dilemma, for I wish to be of assistance.”

Vishwa paused and looked enquiringly at Vasudev for a reply.

“My Lord, what reply should I give to Nandrai, for time is short and we must act promptly”

Vasudev, deep in thought, did not answer. This was indeed a dilemma. He could not risk the life of another infant for his own son and yet it was important to get his unborn child away from the clutches of Kansa. He had also sent a messenger to Hastinapur with a request for assistance from Devaki’s cousin, Kunti. But Hastinapur was far and they were running out of time and could not risk waiting for a response from them.

Vasudev looked at Vishwa.

“Vishwa, I do not know what to do, go and convey my gratitude to Nandrai and ask him to keep quiet on the matter, perhaps he won’t be able to assist me after all”

“What will you do then my Lord?”

“I do not know, perhaps the Gods will show me the way now!”

Vasudev thought his only option now was to wait for a response from Hastinapur and try to see if they would come to his aid. Perhaps he should have sent his request to Prince Devrata rather than Kunti. For Devrata was known to be noble and true to his word and surely he is the only warrior brave enough to stand up to Kansa. Everyone else he had approached for help had turned him down. All too afraid to stand up to Kansa. His only hope had been Nandrai but even he had been unable to help.

Vasudev continued to pace in the atrium, trying to think of a solution whilst many miles away in Vrindavana, Yashoda was writhing in pain, her waters having just broken and the baby she had been trying for so many years struggling to come into the world. She went into labour just as dawn was breaking over the village of Vrindavana.

“I used to think of Krishna is a part of Hindu myth and mythology. Imagine my surprise when I came across Dr Narhari Achar (a professor of physics at the University of Memphis, Tennessee, in the US) and his research in 2004 and 2005. He had done the dating of the Mahabharata war using astronomy. I immediately tried to corroborate all his research using the regular Planetarium software and I came to the same conclusions [as him],” Pandit says.

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Generally Every country its inhabitants shows enormous proud on their  history , culture and past.  And they prevent their by all means, isn’t it?  . But in India it is entirely diffrent. we can’t blame Sonia Gandhi or christian connection . Because in last 60 years in India,  not a single professional  research was funded by Indian government  to get the fact of Indian History scientifically . BJP , congress , Janta Dal no body tried to establish the scientific proof of various events in Indian history say Ramayana , Mahabharata and etc.  But government accepts them Diwali as national holiday . How great ?

Ram , Ram setu and all other things are myths . Every year, Whole nation and government celebrates a myth together .  In schools childrens are taught that Krishna was part of mythology but same school celebrates these myths as holiday or as functions on Janamashtami .

Isn’t it amazing ???    Line of a famous song  from  Govinda’s movie  “It happens only in India ”

In this way we are educating our children in a very confusing way.  Islamic , christians , Nazis  every body accept their past boldly.  It is only Indian leaders who are destroying and denying our very rich history on the name of secularism.

Why are we wasting our time on mythological events , celebrating them. Tell me readers.

Either government should come forward to accept all  myths boldly  and scrap all associated holidays .

Or  proudly accept them and remove the phrase  “according to Hindu mythology”  from all government literature and textbooks.

If we remove Ramayana and Mahabharata from our history on the name of mythology then India won’t have history or culture.  Vedic culture , Hinduism ,Jainism , Ramayana and Mahabharata  are as true as Big Bang or as sun and Moon . And unanimously integrated part of Indian History .   We have rich past of more than 10000 years which is written in Vedas , Ramayana and Mahabharata , No other country has such a old history and glorious past.  These are the oldest literature of history of a nation and religions .

Now the time has come to establish the facts scientifically.  Today nobody is denying existence of drowned  historical city Dwaraka

Anyway Indian leaders can request USA to give proof of all these events as we are doing for Mumbai attacks . Don’t ashamed of it . We are already requesting USA for all proofs  so whats the problem in verifying our history also . Big Deal . We started using  yoga and Ayurved when USA companies got patent on them.

Otherwise the time  is not far away when all historians will accept the fact that  Ramayana and Mahabharata were true events in the past. But Indian students will be keep reading them as “Hindu Mythological events” .

Quite possible friends . Don’t surprise if it happens.

Another fact . India was number 1 economy of world for more then 1000 years .

“According to economic historian Angus Maddison in his book The World Economy: A Millennial Perspective, India had the world’s largest economy from the 1st to 11th century, and in the 18th century, with a (32.9%) share of world GDP in the 1st century to (28.9%) in 1000 CE, and in 1700 CE with (24.4%)”

Following mind bothering  article have been  borrowed from  rediff .  For complete  news and interview Click  this link .

Raj Nambisan

Did Krishna exist?

Most certainly, says Dr Manish Pandit, a nuclear medicine physician who teaches in the United Kingdom, proffering astronomical, archaeological, linguistic and oral evidences to make his case.

“I used to think of Krishna is a part of Hindu myth and mythology. Imagine my surprise when I came across Dr Narhari Achar (a professor of physics at the University of Memphis, Tennessee, in the US) and his research in 2004 and 2005. He had done the dating of the Mahabharata war using astronomy. I immediately tried to corroborate all his research using the regular Planetarium software and I came to the same conclusions [as him],” Pandit says.

Which meant, he says, that what is taught in schools about Indian history is not correct?

The Great War between the Pandavas and the Kauravas took place in 3067 BC, the Pune-born Pandit, who did his MBBS from BJ Medical College there, says in his first documentary, Krishna: History or Myth?.

Pandit’s calculations say Krishna was born in 3112 BC, so must have been 54-55 years old at the time of the battle of Kurukshetra.

Pandit is also a distinguished astrologer, having written several books on the subject, and claims to have predicted that Sonia Gandhi would reject prime ministership, the exact time at which Shankaracharya Jayendra Saraswati would be released on bail and also the Kargil war.

Pandit, as the sutradhar of the documentary Krishna: History or Myth?, uses four pillars — archaeology, linguistics, what he calls the living tradition of India and astronomy to arrive at the circumstantial verdict that Krishna was indeed a living being, because Mahabharata and the battle of Kurukshetra indeed happened, and since Krishna was the pivot of the Armageddon, it is all true.

You are a specialist in nuclear medicine. What persuaded you to do a film on the history/myth of Krishna? You think there are too many who doubt? Is this a politico-religious message or a purely religious one?

We are always taught that Krishna is a part of Hindu myth and mythology. And this is exactly what I thought as well. But imagine my surprise when I came across Dr Narhari Achar (of the Department of Physics at the University of Memphis, Tennessee, in the US) and his research somewhere in 2004 and 2005. He had done the dating of the Mahabharata war using astronomy.

I immediately tried to corroborate all his research using the regular Planetarium software and I came to the same conclusions. This meant that what we are taught in schools about Indian history is not correct.

I also started wondering about why this should be so. I think that a mixture of the post-colonial need to conform to western ideas of Indian civilisation and an inability to stand up firmly to bizarre western ideas are to blame. Also, any attempt at a more impartial look at Indian history is given a saffron hue.

I decided that I could take this nonsense no more, and decided to make films to show educated Indians what their true heritage was. The pen is mightier than the sword is an old phrase but I thought of new one: Film is the new pen.

Any ideas I have will receive wide dissemination through this medium.

I wanted to present a true idea of Indian history unfettered by perception, which was truly scientific, not just somebody’s hypothesis coloured by their perceptions and prejudices.

Why not a documentary on Rama, who is more controversial in India today? Proof of his existence would certainly be more than welcome today…

A documentary on Rama is forthcoming in the future. But the immediate reason I deferred that project is the immense cost it would entail. Whereas research on Krishna and Mahabharata was present and ready to go.

Further more, Rama according to Indian thought, existed in the long hoary ancient past of Treta Yuga, where science finds it difficult to go.

There is a controversial point in your documentary where someone Isckon monk alludes to Krishna as being the father of Jesus. How can you say that since there is an age gap of roughly 3000 years between the two spiritual giants?

Is Krishna the spiritual father of Jesus? That is what the person who was training to be a Roman Catholic priest, and who now worships Krishna, asks. The answer comes within the field of comparative religion and theology.

The Biblical scriptures qualify Jesus as the son of God. Most Indians have no problems accepting this as Hindus are a naturally secular people. However, then the question that arises is, if Jesus is the son, then who is the Father or God Himself?

Now, Biblical scriptures do not really give the answer except to say that the Father is all-powerful and omnipresent. Now, of course, we know that Jesus does not say that he is omnipresent or omnipotent.

Now, no scripture can live as an island, all by itself, and the Srimad Bhagavatam and other scriptures such as the Bramha Samhita all call Krishna as an all powerful, omnipresent being.

So, if we use these words of Bhagavatam, there can be no other truth, which means that Krishna is the father of all living creation.

But it does not mean that Jesus is not divine. Jesus is indeed divine. What I liked about the monks in my documentary is that they do not denigrate Jesus although they worship Krishna as God. They keep Jesus in their hearts, while worshipping Krishna. What could be more secular or more Christian?

3067 BC is when the Mahabharata war took place, says Dr Achar. How did he arrive at this?

There are more than 140 astronomy references in the Mahabharata. Dr Achar used simulations of the night sky to arrive at November 22, 3067 BC, as the day the Mahabharata war began.

He used the references common to Udyoga and Bhisma Parvan initially, and so Saturn at Rohini, Mars at Jyestha with initially only the two eclipses, Lunar at Kartika and Solar at Jyestha.

Let me tell you how rare this set of astronomical conjunctions is.

The Saros cycle of eclipses is periodic at 19 years and so is the Metonic cycle of lunar phases.

So if I say that Amavasya has occured at Jyestha, then this will occur again in 19 years, but if I say that a solar eclipse has occured at Jyestha, then this occurs again at Jyestha only after 340 years. Add Saturn at Rohini and we take this to 1 in 7,000 years. This set of conjunctions takes all of these into consideration, but also takes all the other data into consideration.

So now, we know about Balarama’s pilgrimage tithis and nakshatras, and believe it or not, all that fits the 3067 BC date perfectly.

And to top it all, so does the repetition of the three eclipses described at the destruction of Dwarka 36 years later.

This would explain why so many other researchers tried and failed to find the date of the Mahabharata war as it is based on such a unique set of astronomy that it occured only once in the last 10,000 years.

So essentially, your thesis is that since the Mahabharata war actually happened, as confirmed by astronomical deduction, Krishna was also a living entity since he’s the fulcrum of the Great War?

Not just that, but the fact that archaeology, oral and living traditions point to the same. And yes, we cannot separate the Mahabharata war from Krishna. If one is shown to have happened, then the other must be true as well.

What’s your next project?

The next project is called Indian Jesus. It is already 80% complete. It is very controversial but needed to be done. Living in India convinced me that there are definitely many paths to God. Anybody who lives in India and does not subscribe to that concept should be termed intolerant, but instead the opposite is happening. There are some people today who call their God as God and mine as the devil, this is unacceptable, and I will see to it that those intolerant concepts are demolished. I long to see a one borderless world where we live in mutual respect. I cannot say much on the project but to say that I will prove that the underlying basis of religions is the same.

There is talk of a banyan tree which the documentary says was a witness to the Battle of Kurukshetra, where 4 million people are said to have died in 14 days. Where exactly does this exist? Has the tree been carbon-dated to confirm its age?

There is indeed a banyan tree at Jyotisaar in Kurukshetra which is worshipped as such. This concept is similar to the tree in Jerusalem, which is thought to have witnessed Jesus’s arrival. Carbon-dating of this banyan tree is unlikely to give any concrete answers. I have included it in the documentary to show the living tradition of India — like worship of the Ganges cannot be carbon-dated to give any answers.

There is a gentleman named Ram Prasad Birbal, who said he has found many bones which are said to belong to the Kurukshetra battle. Has this been scientifically proved?

Ram Prasad Birbal is a resident of Kurukshetra. I am not aware of carbon dating of those bones. But I am informed that thermo-luminescent dating of other relics as well as carbon-dating at other sites in Kurukshetra have given dates far older than the Indus valley civilisation. Further, Euan Mackie, an eminent archaeologist, had found a clay tablet of Krishna’s Yamalaarjuna episode at Mohenjedaro, a site of the Indus Valley civilisation proving that even in 2200 BC, there was a culture of worshipping Krishna.

You said Hinduism spread across South East Asia in those times … how big was this religious empire?

The Hindu religious empire extended across the whole of the Asian sub-continent to South East Asia, from Afghanistan to Thailand (where Ramayana and Krishna are still shown through dances), Burma, Cambodia (Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, Bayon, etc), Vietnam, Laos (little Kurukshetra and temples), Malaysia (which was Hindu until recent) up to Java (more temples), Bali (where Hinduism is still the religion) and Indonesia, where Bhima’s grandson is said to have performed a thousand fire rituals at Yogyakarta. Afghanistan was of course home to both the Yadu race and Shakuni (Kandahar or Gandhar).

Dr Achar said the Kurukshetra war must not have happened on a full moon day…

The Mahabharata war did not start on an Amavasya. That is straight forward.

Krishna tells Karna “Saptama chappi divasat Amavasya Bhivasyati” and says that Karna should tell Drona and Bhisma to do the ayudha (weapons) pooja on that date. But not start fighting the war on that date.

The documentary is quiet crisp. I am told this is the first time you held a camera, and learnt how to shoot. How many days did this take and what was your budget?

I learnt film editing first using a variety of software such as Final Cut 6 as I realised that a film director must be able to do decent basic editing to realise what to shoot, from what angles and for what duration.

I bought a professional grade HD movie camcorder initially and then learnt to shoot before we went filming in 8 major Indian cities, the US, UK and Cambodia.

However, nothing prepares you as thoroughly as filming on your own. Most of this was done with a skeleton crew, mostly handling audio.

I later was funded to buy the latest Cinealta tru HD movie cameras, which are not available in India, and which I am now proficient in using. I also taught a few crew members how to shoot.

Then came the task of assembling a team of professionals to do editing, graphics, voice over and all else, so that I had a team of people for my next set of documentaries.

It was a steep learning curve, as I never went to film school, but it has worked out well, with people within the industry who are veterans complimenting my work. I personally think that it was all God’s grace.

The budget was 15,000 pounds or approximately Rs 12 lakh. It took me 18 months to complete.

Your documentary says India did not have a tradition of putting down everything in writing till 325 BC, when Alexander the Great arrived. How did you come to this conclusion?

This is what the current scientific belief is. Although people have talked about deciphering the Indus Valley “script”, there is no straightforward conclusion about the same, so we stuck to the “official line” there. We will deal with these issues in a future documentary.

S R Rao, the marine archaeologist from the National Institute of Oceanography, found a 9th century building, and an entire city. Where was this and when did he find it?.

S R Rao found the sunken city of Dwarka a few years ago at Beyt Dwarka in the early 1990s.

Apparently, this city near Dwarka was set up 36 years after the Mahabharata war. Is this the summation of Rao?

It is believed that due to damage and destruction by the sea, Dwaraka has submerged six times and the modern-day Dwarka is the 7th such city to be built in the area. Scientifically speaking, we see that 36 years after the war there were the same repetitions of an eclipse triad as we have shown in the documentary.

From Dwarka to Kurukshetra is more than 1,000 km. How do you think Krishna travelled to help the Pandavas?

As a scientist, I believe that they travelled on horses which would enable them to reach pretty quickly. If you consider 1,000 km, that should take him 7 days if he had a string of horses. Of course if you take faith into account, then it could happen in a twinkling of an eye.

What’s the link between the two comets that Sage Vyasa talked about, the retrograde motion of Mars (Mangal or Kuja) at Antares (Jyestha) to all this

The idea that comets are harbingers of doom is well-documented. The thing is that there is a set of statements describing comets and their positions. Only Dr Achar has arrived at the correct deduction, that those sentences in Bhisma Parvan relate to comets, not planets — which is where previous researchers found it difficult.

We know that Halley’s comet was seen in that year as well.

Dr Achar interpreted verses from the Bhism Parvan and Udyog Parvan to arrive at various conclusions. One of them is that when Saturn in at Aldebaran (Rohini) it brings great bad tidings. The last time this happened was in September 2001, when 9/11 happened. When does this happen next?

Actually Saturn at Rohini is long known to be a bad omen by astrologers. Rohinim Pidyannesha Stitho Rajan Shanischarah. This transit happened in 1971 where a million or so were killed, and again in 2001 September, when 9/11 happened. The next time is in 2030/2031 AD approximately.

When is the next time Mars will be in Antares?

Mars at Jyestha has to be taken in conjunction with the other things mentioned by Karna when he talks to Krishna, as it occurs every year. In any case, those people were great astronomers and not just warriors, so we don’t know what the extent of their knowledge was regarding these events, In my personal humble opinion it was perhaps even better than that which we have today.

Contact Dr Pandit at manish@saraswatifilms.org

“He, my sons, the peerless bowman, mighty in his battle-car,
He who bore the stamp of hero, slain by Arjun in the war,

He whom as the son of Radha, chariot-driver, ye have thought,
He who shone with Surya’s lustre as his countless foes he fought,

He who faced your stoutest warriors and in battle never failed,
He who led the Kuru forces and in danger never quailed,

He who knew no peer in prowness, owned in war no haughtier name,
He who yielded life, not honour, and by death hath conquered fame,

He, in truth who never faltered, never left his vow undone,
Offer unto him oblation! Karna was my eldest son!

Karna was your honoured elder, and the Sun inspired his birth,
Karna in his rings and armour Sun-like trod the spacious earth!”

8-7-2008

So just what can you expect when Ekta Kapoor decides to make a serial out of the epic called The Mahabharata? Jump cuts, freeze frames, flowing sarees and what have you… it’s all there.

Well, the ‘K’ Queen’s new epic daily Kahaani Hamaaray Mahabharat Ki (Monday-Thursday 9 pm on 9X) finally took off. Quite unlike BR Chopra’s version, this one starts off from the draupadi vastraharan episode, which many say was the root cause of the epic bloodbath.
Draupadi screaming, protesting, cursing, Yudishtir looking every bit a broken man after losing everything in the game of dice, Bheem clutching his mace, Arjun his bow and arrow, Bheeshma clenching his fists and the blind emperor Dhritarashtra clenching his fists in agony. This is pretty much how we are introduced to the epic characters.

Also as a marked departure from tradition, in the place of the Hastinapur courtroom where the action is said to have taken place, Ekta gets her actors out in the open with wild winds blowing away the flowing robes and locks.

The actors

A new actor plays Yuddhishtir, the eldest of the Pandavas. It probably would be too early to comment on the actor’s acting capabilities since he had no dialogues in the episode.

Aryan Vaid plays Duryodhan, the eldest of the Kauravas (and first cousin to the Pandavas) and quite looks the part he plays. And even though he doesn’t talk much, his brother (and sidekick) Dusashan does all the yelling for his brother. Nonetheless he does have a convincing screen presence.

Now for the most important character – Draupadi who is introduced in signature Ekta style. Her free flowing red saree reminds us of Prerna’s flowing red dupatta in Kasautii Zindagi Kay. Anita Hasanandani as Draupadi is good with her histrionics but fails to strike the right chord with her shrill voice. The incessant screeching, the glycerine eyes are tad too much to handle.

Shakuni, maternal uncle of the Kauravas, looks funny rather than the shrewd and cunning man he is meant to be.

Last but not the least, Makrand Deshpande replaces Harish Bhimani’s voice of Samay (Time) from the original. Mak plays Ved Vyas the sage who has written the epic and is shown visualising the whole Mahabharata

Special Effects

There’s little scope for sfx in kitchen politics. But Mahabharata offers a lot and Ekta makes the most of it. In the first episode itself we see Krishna’s chakra appearing from nowhere as if in a computer simulated game and saves the day for Draupadi.

And yes of course, there are flashes of thunder, a staple of the K-soaps, used generously to accentuate the painful pauses and shock and awe.

So that is pretty much what happens in the first 30-minute epic remake as the episode wraps up with a glimpse of the next where small screen’s dear old Om and Parvati (of Kahaani Ghar Ghar Kii) as seen playing Ganga and Shantanu respectively.

Verdict

Overall, a fairly good beginning as Ekta has managed to hook the audience with one of the most pivotal and dramatic sequences from the epic. And she has managed to retain some curiosity as well. As for the future of the show, it may pick up after the well-known faces pop up in this epic saga. Till then keep watching!

I was reading Mr Gurcharan Das writing about ‘Dilemma of a Liberal Hindu’ .  Now what captured my imagination was his overall approach to reading.  Reading is definitely is not a casual activity for him, what has be read or studied is thought through carefully and then embarked upon.  Let me quote a few lines form his article that can be read from The Times of India.

A few years ago, I told my wife that I wanted to read the Mahabharata in its entirety. I explained that I had read the Western epics but not the Indian ones. She gave me a sceptical look, and said, “It’s a little late in the day to be having a mid-life crisis, isn’t it?” To my chagrin, I became the subject of animated discussion at a dinner party soon after. 
“So, what is this I hear about wanting to go away to read old books”, asked my hostess, “aren’t there any new ones?” She gave my wife a sympathetic look. 
“Tell us, what you plan to read?” asked a retired civil servant who had once been a favourite of Indira Gandhi. He spoke casually as though he was referring to the features of a new Nokia phone. I admitted that I had been thinking of the Mahabharata. “Good lord, man!” he exclaimed. “You haven’t turned saffron, have you?

Interesting he tells his wife and his friends circle come to know (for they are serious readers too)  There is a lot to learn from here about reading from Mr Das.

Then again the thoughts that he expressed about our great epic  (Mahabharata) being taught in schools.  Its a fabulous idea.  We have such great wealth and yet giving it up and chasing the ephemeral…. One needs to remember that Technology is at the bottom in the hierarchy of learning.  As it said “the knowledge of Divine is the beginning of all wisdom”.  If children are taught literature at a very early stage, India will produce great thought leaders not just code developers.

I beleive that most of the religious literature are Myths but dont dismiss myths as fiction or mere grand stories, they fuel thought for myths are those that, may or may not be true, but its something that we face or encounter on a daily basis.

I am sure the sentiment is shared by many who had disproportionately higher share of chequeredness in their respective careers. And questions abound. What gets one closer to the seat of power? And the fruits it has to offer. How come many a consistent hoppings we do that could teach the champion kangaroo a trick or two, singularly fail us to take us further and higher?

To begin with the answer is darn simple. Its made complex by know-alls or know-nothings or know-halves or know-half-but-don’t-know-which-halfs. That means virtually all of us. Only a select few (one-in-a-million, according to some researches) know what it is and benefit from it. Despair not for now the secret will be revealed. Get ready to enjoy the alluring and elusive fruits of power, which till now, we only fantasized about. From the story of 5 brothers who lost everything in a bitter power struggle with their conniving cousins and had to spend 12 years in exile and 1 year in anonymity to learn the tricks of the trade to have a go at the throne. (You, oh lucky reader, need only the next 60 seconds to know what it takes).

For a good 11 years 11 months (to the 11^th hour that is) the brothers kept shaking their heads in disbelief wondering what went wrong for such fate to befell them. Instead of enjoying the fruits of power they are on foot wandering in forests teeming with wild beasts, poisonous ivies, long days, dark nights and meandering thorny paths.

“What have we done wrong? We had everything going for us. We are the good ones. Lived by book almost and asked for what rightfully belonged to us. We are blessed by elders. Seen as a beacon of hope by our subjects. We were loved almost universally. Yet….”

Words failed them and they continued their journey part lamenting their fate and part taking in the beauty of nature, which otherwise the trappings of a life happily lived in palaces amongst seemingly well-wishers deprived them of. (Ah, the “in-between jobs” time)

While ruing thus and traveling further one day they came across a tree with one fruit on it. It looked like a fruit for gods, and indeed it was, which they didn’t know at that time. Draupadi, their illustrious wife, feeling hungry by the long walk, said “I want it”.

Zip.

Her wish was their command and in a second the fruit made its way into her hand. She was on the verge of biting it.

Zwang.

Krishna, their mentor materialized there.

“Stop” he said. “This fruit belongs to Durvasa, the angry saint. He alone decides who he wants to give it to, and any ignoramus trying to savor it without his consent or know will get to know what living hell means”. “Put it back. Else you will have to face his wrath, for he is known to be short tempered.”

“How?” cried all in unison. “How on earth can we put the plucked thing back?”

Smiled Krishna.

“Don’t worry. It needs to be offered the accumulated karma of your good deeds. Powered by that, this fruit here will go back and attach itself to the tree. All will be well.”

So first comes Draupadi, and offers her good karma, a result of her Chastity.

Zoom.

The fruit raises few feet in the air, well short of the branch its plucked from. Shocked she looks at her husbands! “Oh, I thought the power of my karma alone will do the trick! Alas, such is not the case” The eldest brother Dharmaraja, epitome of Integrity, steps forward. Offers his bit and lo, the fruit still is far from being happily hanging in its original un-plucked state. One by one the remaining 4 brothers, each bringing to the table Strength, Valor, Humility and Trust do their bit, but the sum total of their contribution was still a few feet short. Steps forward Krishna, the wise and guile mentor and offers part of his good karma and the fruit attaches itself to the tree, nothing amiss, everything as before.

“Wow! This is a miracle. How in heavens did that happen?” 6 voices rose in unison above the din of the forest sound FX.

Smiled Krishna.

“Don’t worry; that there is Durvasa making his way to the tree now. We will talk after paying our respects to him”. Durvasa came. Durvasa saw. Durvasa conferred, the fruit unto the 5 brothers and their wife. “I know what happened. But you have collectively made the impossible possible, so you have earned it. Eat it. The effects of it will last on you forever and you will enjoy the benefits of the throne shortly. Everything will work out smoothly henceforth.” Thus speaking the good and soothing words, the short-tempered but benevolent sage vanishes.

Content, with the vision of a good life ahead and the sweet taste of the fruit, the 5 brothers and their wife turn to Krishna their mentor, for enlightenment.

Smiled Krishna.

“Power”, said Krishna seating himself comfortably under the blessed tree, “is mistaken to be an easy prey to only one thing or the other from the following.”

“Trust. Humility. Integrity. Strength. Chastity. Valor. (THIS CV)”

“You need a bit of guile to navigate through to the final course. In its absence everything else falls short of the ultimate goal. All the efforts come to naught. You are on the throes of Kaliyuga. The going will be tougher if you continue in the same naïve belief of THIS CV helping you. The dice will be loaded against every-time and you need to adopt new strategies. Add a dash of stealth; pepper it with practicality and the purpose will be served.”

“I hope the path ahead is clear for you and that you have got your priorities right. Use this time to work on your weaknesses, add to your network, marshal troops and you will see what lies ahead. I as your mentor can see it. Glory be to thee!”

Oh wise reader, the era of Mahabharata has long ended. Kaliyuga has indeed entered. THIS CV is now some 3000+ years past its expiry date. It was once a necessary condition but not sufficient to get you what you desired. Now it’s an invalid anachronism.

So shed that path and tread a new course. Find a mentor. Network. Show stealth and beguile the shrewdest of your peers (or competing cousins). Glory, truly be, to thee.

હજી ઘણીયે પીડાઓ છે…

બોલ ખરા તું છે તો ક્યાં છે?

મને ખબર છે તને ખબર છે…

સમજણમાં પણ સમજણ ક્યાં છે?

રાત બધાએ રોજ વીતાવી

અજવાળાની ઈચ્છા ક્યાં છે?

એકમેકના પ્રશ્નો સૌએ

પૂછ્યા ને કોઈ ઉત્તર કયાં છે?

માણસ તો છે શરીર ખાલી

ખોલ કાઢ તો માણસ ક્યાં છે?

પૂછી પૂછી જો પોતાને હું

તને પૂછું છું શબ્દો ક્યાં છે?

આજ અમસ્તું મને થાય છે

તનેય થાય જે મને થાય છે?

બધું છે ખોટું બધું છે મોટું

નાનું અહીંયા કોણ થાય છે?

જીવે મરે કે જાય અવગતે

શર્મિલ પૂછવા કોણ જાય છે?

- સંજય વિ. શાહ ‘શર્મિલ’

Below is an excerpt of Irawati Karve’s fabulous book Yuganta. The book has a chapter on Draupadi:

As the daughter of a powerful and noble family, Draupadi was the living symbol of the Pandavas’ new position; but more than that, as the wife of all five she was the source of their unity and solidarity. The day Arjuna won her and brought her home his mother unwittingly said, “Whatever you have brought today, share equally with your brothers as always.”

Then she saw the lovely young girl! How could she be divided among the five?

Dharma told Arjuna, “Brother, you won her; you marry her.”

Arjuna answered, “How can I commit the sin of marrying before you and Bhima, my elder brothers? You are the eldest; you marry her.”

Arjuna was right. From the Vedas and the Brahmanas onward it was considered not only contrary to good etiquette but sinful for the younger brother to marry before the elder. If he did so, the guilt not only fell on both brothers, but also on the parents who had consented to the marriage. The reasons for this are clear. In ancient times the eldest had the right of succession and inheritance. To be able to perform the shraddha (offering to the dead) of his parents and the duties of a householder he had to be married. Moreover, the younger brothers had access to an elder brother’s wife, but over the younger brother’s wife an elder had no right. Thus the marriage of the younger brother before the elder deprived the elder of his social, familial, and religious rights and for this reason such a marriage was considered a sin. Had Arjuna married Draupadi first his elder brother could not have married her. On the other hand, Dharma as the elder had the right to marry her though she had been won by Arjuna.

In his grandfather’s generation Bhishma had won a girl and given her to his brother. If Dharma alone had married Draupadi all five would have had the right to her, but the text suggests the following reason this alternative was rejected and she was solemnly married to each. As the discussion about what to do with Draupadi went on, the eyes of the five brothers were fastened on her with unconcealed desire which did not escape the shrewd observation of Kunti.

Finally, through her wisdom and a stratagem of Vyasa the dilemma was resolved so that Draupadi became the wife of all five and her marriage to all five thus destroyed any possible seeds of dissension. This very thing Karna later pointed out to Duryodhana. After the Pandavas had got married and come out into the open, Duryodhana was planning again to destroy them.

He told Karna, “Divide Kunti’s three sons from their two step-brothers, the sons of Madri; or offer Drupada money for turning the Pandavas over to us. Or if nothing else, let us at least destroy Bhima, for he is a constant thorn in my side.”

Karna pointed out the futility of all such measures: “If we couldn’t destroy the Pandavas when they were friendless, we certainly cannot do so today. Now they have allies, and, what is more, they live in a different country. Besides, Drupada is a man of principle, not a greedy king. Drupada’s son is devoted to Arjuna. Now that Draupadi has become the wife of the five it will never be possible to separate the brothers.”

And as long as Draupadi lived they never were separated. Kunti had watched over the Pandavas until the day of their marriage after which Draupadi assumed the responsibility. The five were brave, but poorly suited to the responsibilities of kingship. Affairs of state were never handled independently by the Pandavas; they were managed by Krishna, Kunti’s brother’s son.

Very soon after her marriage Draupadi saved her husbands from utter ruin. In the dice game Dharma had not only lost his entire kingdom but had staked his own wife. Dragged into the assembly of the Kauravas she was shamefully dishonoured. Finally, fearing that the indecency had gone too far and would have terrible consequences, Dhritarashtra intervened. To Draupadi he granted three favours. With the first she freed Dharma as the crowned king; with the second she freed the remaining four.

Then saying, “If my husbands are free and armed, that is enough for me,” she refused the third favour. Skilfully asking the favours, without making any demand for herself, she had saved the Pandavas from degradation.

Karna again summed it up: “Up till now we have heard of many beautiful women in the world, but no woman has done anything equal to what Draupadi has done here today. The Pandavas and Kauravas were burning with anger, and in that conflagration no one can say what might have happened, but Draupadi has reestablished peace. Like a boat she has saved the Pandavas when they were about to drown in a sea of disgrace.”

The taunt that they had been saved by a woman infuriated Bhima. But though Karna had said it maliciously it was true. The word used for the period spent in the forest is the same in the case of Draupadi and Sita — vanavasa (leading a forest life) —but there the comparison ends. Draupadi was driven to the forest by her husband’s addiction to gambling and the consequent loss of his kingdom. Sita’s forest life, on the other hand, was the result of her husband’s idealism and sense of duty.

Kaikeyi, the stepmother of Rama, had plotted to secure succession to the throne for her own son Bharata. She extracted a promise from her husband to send Rama into exile for fourteen years, and to give the kingdom to her own son. From this intrigue the king died of grief. Rama, as the eldest prince, could have become king immediately, but he chose instead to fulfil his father’s promise. Rama left the capital, but Bharata refused to accept the kingdom, and returned it to Rama. Therefore, from a practical point of view, there was no reason for Rama to go at all. Rama went into exile only because he had assumed the burden of his father’s promise. It was a self-imposed ordeal.

The Pandavas, however, were forced into exile. In the capital of their enemies the Kauravas, the stakes had been announced openly before the elders. There was no alternative except to abide by their word. When they came to see the Pandavas at the beginning of their exile, Draupadi’s brother and Krishna could do nothing more than express their dismay at what had happened. Going to war at that time would have meant a permanent blot on their name; and under the circumstances even their friends might have refused to back them. Keeping true to their word was for the time being the only defence against their enemies. Their behaviour, in other words, was not only moral; it was one hundred percent expedient as well.

As Draupadi had had the right to share in the splendour and greatness of her husbands, so now she had the responsibility of sharing their suffering and disgrace. The Pandavas’ other wives had taken their children and gone to their parents’ homes. Draupadi sent her children to her parents — they had to be educated so it would not do to keep them in the forest — but she herself stayed with her husbands. She was not one to suffer in silence however. She clenched her fists and cursed; she burned with anger when her brother Dhrishtadyumna visited her in the forest she wept continuously and cried with bitter rage, “I have neither husbands, nor brothers, nor father. If I had, do you think they would have stood for ray being insulted like this?”

When everyone had left she again brought up the subject, trying in vain to  persuade Dharma to take revenge against the Kauravas. 

Krishna with his wife Satyabhama visited the Pandavas towards the end of the exile. At parting he consoled, her, “My dear, I promise you that all these insults will be ‘paid for.”

His wife Satyabhama embraced her and said, “Draupadi, don’t cry; you have seen the Kaurava wives laugh at you; one day you will see them weep.”

Sita’s exile was unshadowed by hatred and suffering. For more than twelve years she lived in a continual honeymoon. As the wife of the crown prince in Ayodhya she had been surrounded by the bustle of servants, by her father-in-law and three mothers-in-law. There had been no chance to give herself completely to love. Now she was free. Her forest was like the forest in the romantic dreams of young city girls; there were deer and swans, and the delightful Godavari River with its long stretches of sandy shore. Dotting the landscape here and there were the ashramas of the rishis, offering hospitality and human companionship. Occasionally there were just enough cruel beasts to give one a few delightful shivers. Of the burden of the real world there was nothing — no smart of remembered insult, no yearning for absent children, no crowds of guests.

Draupadi’s troubles were human, brought on by people of this world and particularly by her own husbands. Her experiences are described realistically, unembellished by flowery language or poetic conventions. In almost every episode, insult is piled upon insult, constantly adding fuel to the hatred in her heart. Two words keep recurring in reference to Draupadi — nathavati anathavat, “having husbands, but like a widow.”

She was the wife of the five but bereft the daughter of a rich house but like an orphan, she had brave allies but she was alone.

[Episode 67] [Archives]

I stood beside my brothers, in water that came up to our chest.

Ganga’s embrace was warm, soothing — and yet, as we watched the long line of people walking towards us, a chill worked its way up from the soles of my feet to freeze my heart and numb the mind.

The brides of our sons came first, heads down, walking in single file towards the river bank – absurdly young girls in the white robes that signaled the widow, their hair hanging loose and unbound, with no sign of ornamentation. Behind them walked valiyamma Gandhari, her hand on my mother’s arm.

Subhadra and Balandhara walked behind them, supporting Uttara on either side. Tears flowed down Uttara’s face, unchecked and unheeded. Someone had told us she was pregnant.

Draupadi came last. Though she had no husband to mourn, she too was dressed in sober white in memory of the five sons she had lost in one night of madness.

They came on, this long line of white-robed women, mute testament to a war we had won — and lost.

We stepped out of the river, walked up to where the priest waited for us and stood with our heads bowed and hands folded in prayer, mentally preparing to pay our final dues to those the war had taken from us.

Mother left Gandhari’s side and walked up to us. “When you honor the dead, don’t forget the name of a hero who died fighting on the Kaurava side…”

Arjuna looked at her, bewildered. Yudhishtira must have had some inkling of what was coming – eyes fixed on hers, he waited in silence for her to utter the name.

“Your elder brother, the one you know as Radheya…”

“Karna?!” The word exploded from Arjuna, half question, half exclamation.

“I shot an arrow into his heart as he begged for life… I took deliberate aim while he lay there bleeding, and shot an arrow into his throat… I killed my brother!” Arjuna crumpled to the ground, overwhelmed.

“Karna.” Mother’s face was impassive, her tone even. “The child I bore when yet a maiden, the child I abandoned to hide my own shame…

“I ask this of you in the name of one who never got his due in life – please, my children, one handful of water, one final prayer in Karna’s name…”

Turning, she walked back to her place beside Gandhari.

For long moments Yudhishtira stood there silent, unmoving, as if he had turned to stone. And then he looked up, and I saw the tears in his eyes. He clapped for an attendant; several rushed forward.

Find Karna’s widow and his children, he commanded; bring them here so they may stand with our women when we pay him our respects.

The priest recited the mantras for the dead and named each person we had lost; in turn, we took a handful of water and offered it up to Ganga.

“Kuntiputra Karna…”

As Yudhishtira paid his respects, I thought back to all those encounters, all those years. To the time outside the elephant paddock when he had stood there watching while Duryodhana and Dushasana attacked me…. to his voice, which I heard clearer than all the rest, calling for rope so they could bind my hands and feet and throw me in the river…

I was the one who had insulted him that day, during the trial of strength. In my mind I heard the echoes of my own mocking laughter. “What is this suta putra doing with a bow and arrow? Give him a whip — that is all he is fit for, all that he deserves,” I had taunted then…

Karna, the brother I had never known.

I tilted my palms, and let the water trickle out.

So many years ago, one of Ganga’s little daughters had accepted a bundle entrusted to it by a shamed maiden. Ganga had taken the bundle in her arms, cradled it, rocked it, and brought it safe to shore.

Today, with the same impassive calm, she accepted my tribute to that child she had nurtured so long ago.

*************

We  were now the masters of Hastinapura and yet, as I walked along the corridors of the palace, I felt like a stranger, an interloper.

All those years in the jungle, all through the war that followed, I had dreamt of this homecoming; I had consoled myself with visions of the celebrations we would have when we finally won back our inheritance.

Now we were back, and there was no celebration. The streets of Hastinapura were deserted; behind shut doors the womenfolk mourned their dead.

At the entrance to what used to be Duryodhana’s palace I saw an enormous iron doll, its body dented in several places. Its face, with a hideous smile plastered on it, was a cruel mockery of mine. This, I thought, must be the statue Visokan had told me about – an iron contraption created by an engineer, with hands that moved when levers were pulled.

Duryodhana had constructed it to look like me and each morning, he had ‘practiced’ by smashing at it with his mace.

I walked into the main palace, now dark and dismal. In the great hall, Dhritarashtra sat alone and unmoving, waiting for I don’t know what. As I penetrated deeper into the castle a single, heart-rending sob from an inner room stopped me in my tracks. Hastily, I retraced my steps and walked out of the palace, seeking the solitude of my own quarters.

On the way I passed Arjuna, walking with no aim, no direction. He couldn’t sleep, he said — his nights were haunted by visions of Karna’s eyes, fixed on him in entreaty.

“Did you know?” To avoid replying, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. How could I tell him I had known for some time, that I could have stopped him from killing a brother with just a word?

He walked away, cursing our mother. I will never be able to forget, he said – and I will never forgive her.

I thought of Karna. Of how he had lived his life with kshatriya blood in him, yet constantly reviled as a suta putra. He was a king, yet one who owed his kingdom not to the might of his arms but to the charity of his friend; he wore a crown, yet lived his life a vassal, never accepted as an equal in the company of his fellow kings.

No, I wouldn’t be able to forget either.

But then I thought of my mother, of the life she had lived. Brought up a princess, she had one day, without warning, without even a chance to say goodbye to her own mother, been handed over to a childless cousin of her father’s — who in turn had given her to a rishi for his personal maid, so the rishi would be pleased and bless him with a son.

I had spent enough time with the rishis of the forest to know what that meant – she would have cooked for him, cleaned for him, bathed him, waited on him hand and foot and even, if he so desired, given herself to him because how could she refuse?

Marriage to a king must have seemed to her the escape she had prayed for so desperately during those lonely years of her lost childhood – and yet she found she had to share her impotent husband with another, a younger, more beautiful wife who clearly dominated the king’s affections. And then she had lost him; her sons, princes born to rule, had been forced to wander the forests like outcasts while she survived on the goodwill of her youngest brother in law…

No, I couldn’t bring myself to curse her either.

******************

“I haven’t seen you since we returned to Hastinapura.”

Yudhishtira was waiting for me in my chambers. I touched his feet, and sat down opposite him.

“I thought this was surely the one place I would find some sura…”

I had never known him to drink in our presence. I summoned a maid. She came, and poured. We drank. Yudhishtira looked after her as she walked away – she, too, bore the signs of recent widowhood.

“So this is what we fought for, this is what we won – a nation of widows!” My brother sighed.

“I spent a lifetime trying to avoid war… I did things my wife, my brothers, hated me for. I, who love each of you like my sons – I pledged you on a turn of the dice…”

“Kshatriya dharma… you couldn’t refuse a challenge.”

In some strange way, we seemed to have switched places — here was my brother, voicing the thoughts I had bitten down on all these years, and here was me making his excuses for him. “It is done,” I told him. “It’s over. What is the point in thinking of all that now?”

My brother drank some more. “Oh, I could have gotten out of the game if I wanted to,” he said. “I could not refuse Duryodhana’s challenge, but it was not our cousin who played against me — and there is no dharma that says I have to accept a challenge by proxy.”

“Why, then? We could have walked away; we could have gone back to Indraprastha, built it into the greatest kingdom of our time… we could have been so happy, with our children around us …”

“Our children. All dead. One day I will die — and there will be no one to do my last rites.” Yudhistira jumped up from his seat and paced the floor, his agitation manifest.

I had never seen him like this, so totally devoid of the calm self-control that characterized him at all times, a self control that had at times maddened me almost beyond endurance.

“Do you think, my son, that they would have let us rule Indraprastha in peace?”

He picked up the skin of sura, found it empty, and clapped his hands.

“As long as our cousins ruled Hastinapura, they would have found one pretext or other for war. When they invited me for that game I thought, this is our best chance – if we can win the kingdom without bloodshed, in a game of dice, our cousins won’t be able to hurt us any more, their power will be neutralized…

“But I lost!”

We sat in silence, in the gathering dark, each lost in our own thoughts.

“I never told you this at the time, because I thought you would never agree – I knew none of you would agree,” Yudhishtira said. “Remember when I sent Krishna as my final emissary, with the message that we would accept five villages as our share? Later, in private, I told him if he saw the slightest chance to make peace, he should tell Duryodhana we would even be prepared to accept five homes somewhere – one for each of us, so we could live our lives in peace.”

He sighed – a sudden, heart-wrenching sound that bubbled up from some subterranean well of frustration, of sorrow.

“Duryodhana refused, as I feared he would – but even so I would have somehow persuaded you, our brothers, even Draupadi, to let it go. We could have lived somewhere – in Panchala, or Dwaraka, anywhere…

“But that woman! She must have known I didn’t want war – that is why she met Krishna and sent those messages to Draupadi, to Arjuna and to you, fanning the flames of your anger, making sure you wouldn’t listen to me, making sure there would be war!

“And all that time, she knew it would be our own brother we would fight against… our brother we would be forced to kill… and she never said a word…

“Mother!” He spat the word out, like a curse – and abruptly, walked out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

PostScript: Thanks all for the wishes. I don’t feel remotely close to 100 percent yet, so will be off work/blog for today as well [mercifully, it is not any virus with a funny name, but just a regular fever that seems to come and go in spurts]. Will check back later to respond to comments etc on this episode, and resume regular service tomorrow. Be well all

[Episode 66] [Archives]

Duryodhana leapt high. I bent at the knee, going low in a counter.

In a move I had never seen before, his left hand came off the mace. The right hand slid down the handle till his fingers held it by the tip, and then he flicked it at my face like a whip.

I blocked it with ease – and realized too late that the move was meant to distract, not hurt. Even as I moved to defend, Duryodhana lashed out with his leg, smashing his heel against my shoulder and sending me staggering backwards.

We had been fighting for a long time. Or maybe it just felt that way. Early into our bout, I realized that Duryodhana’s mace – his favorite one with the gold-plated handle and the wickedly sharp spikes along the head – was considerably lighter than mine. Whatever it lost in power, it more than made up in the speed with which he could wield the lighter weapon.

All those years ago, when we fought for the first time during the trial of strength, I had won by using my strength, hammering my mace repeatedly against his to tire his wrists and arms.

Thinking to repeat that tactic, I went at him hard from the moment Balarama finished his little speech. “Just in time to watch your two disciples in battle,” Krishna had said as Balarama’s chariot rolled into the glade.

Balarama always spoke of impartiality, of how the Pandavas and Kauravas were equally dear to him and how he wanted no part of our quarrels – but for all that, he had over the years favored Duryodhana, taking him under his wing and teaching him the tricks of the mace.

When war seemed inevitable, Balarama had gone off on an extended pilgrimage to avoid taking sides – but only after he made sure the bulk of the Dwaraka army would fight under the Kaurava flag.

I had listened to his little speech about fair play, about the rules of combat and about making him proud of us, with growing disbelief – did he think this was some contest got up for his amusement?

Duryodhana swung at me – a powerful, underarm swing aimed at the right side of my chest; as my mace met his in a block he disengaged, spun in reverse with startling speed, and swung at my left.

There was no time to bring my mace around. I smothered the impact by stepping into the blow and blocking the handle with my body — but even so it stung, driving the breath out of me and forcing me to one knee.

Duryodhana roared in triumph and charged, swinging; I parried and, still on my knee, spun around with a sweeping strike at his legs that forced him to jump back, giving me room to recover.

What had started off as a contest of speed and strength was slowly turning into a battle of skill and wits. My arms were beginning to feel the strain; I was gasping for breath and struggling with the sweat that poured down my face and into my eyes – and by the look of him, he was as drained as I was.

I sensed desperation in him as our battle dragged on. There was an increased frenzy to his attacks. He must have known his best chance was to finish me off quickly, before my strength and endurance began to wear him down.

I realized I had to change my tactics, find his weakness and figure out how to exploit it.

Duryodhana jumped high, as he had repeatedly done since our battle began, using his lighter mace and his agility to advantage. What made his tactic dangerous was that he kept changing the angle of attack – sometimes he jumped high and swung down at my head; at other times he feinted, forced me into a defensive posture, then waited till he was on the way down to attack me from an angle lower than I was prepared for.

With sudden clarity, I saw the flaw in his tactics – and what I had to do.

I breathed deep to center myself, and settled down to a calculated defense, blocking his attacks without launching any of my own, conserving my strength and waiting for my opportunity.

I had to make him think I was more tired than I was, that my reflexes were slowing down, that it was all I could do to defend — and that he had no reason to fear a sudden counterattack.

Duryodhana changed tack and launched a series of swift attacks, swinging the mace to the left and right with great dexterity and putting all his power into each strike. I countered with force; our maces struck sparks off each other.

Seemingly hard-pressed, I staggered back, letting one hand come off the handle and taking one of his strikes on my body.

Dimly, I heard my brothers yelling encouragement. I shut it all out – their shouts, my rage, the memories of all the insults Duryodhana had visited on us…

It was only a matter of time, I knew, before Duryodhana would go airborne again. This time, as he reached the apex of his jump he swung from the right, aiming for my shoulders and chest. I made as if to block, waited till he was committed and then pulled out of the feint.

To exploit the weakness I had spotted, I knew I had to take a serious blow – and this was it. I did the best I could to minimize the impact, but even so his mace landed on my side with a thud that drove the breath out of me. I bit down hard on the searing pain, spun around and using the momentum of my turn and the full strength of my arms, I smashed my mace against his momentarily unprotected ribs.

The crack of breaking bones as the head of my mace smacked into his side told me all I needed to know. Duryodhana crashed to the ground, the mace flying out of his hand.

Vaguely through the percussive pounding of blood in my head, I heard the voices:

“No.”

“Bhima, he is unarmed, you have won …”

“NO!”

Almost as if it had a will of my own, my mace rose high overhead. Duryodhana raised his legs in a desperate attempt to block. I adjusted and smashed the mace down against Duryodhana’s thigh, just below his waist.

“What have you done?!” Yudhishtira rushed up to me. “He was unarmed – to hit him then… it was wrong!”

I stared at my brother in disbelief, amazed –not for the first time – at a sense of wrong and right that he seemed able to switch on and off at will.

Just yesterday, he had danced with glee when Arjuna felled Karna.

Karna had voluntarily put down his weapons; Duryodhana had lost his in a battle that had not yet ended – that was right, this was wrong?!

I looked away and caught Balarama’s eye. His face contorted with rage, he was straining to get away from Krishna and Satyaki, who struggled to hold him back.

“Coward!” he screamed. “Duryodhana was the better fighter — you tricked him and then, when he was unarmed, defenseless and hurt you hit him! Your act was against dharma, against the laws of combat! Coward!”

Deep inside of me, something snapped. Duryodhana was finished – I knew that he would die of his wounds even if I didn’t lay another finger on him. But this – this was more than I had the fortitude to bear.

“Let him go!” I roared at Krishna. “I vowed to kill Duryodhana – and kill him I will, right here, right now. I know no kshatriya dharma greater than that!”

I raised my mace high overhead.

“Anyone who thinks to stop me can step forward now and try!”

I waited, mace poised, as Krishna and Satyaki let Balarama go and stepped back. He took a step towards me, then another, his eyes locked on mine.

And then he stopped.

I held his eyes with mine as my mace came down with all my strength, crashing into the side of Duryodhana’s head. Almost in continuation of that blow, I flung my mace away. I had no further use for it – my war was over.

For long moments I stood there, mentally and physically drained by the toughest battle I had ever fought in my life.

I felt their eyes… my brothers’, my kinsmen’s, my friends’… eyes that looked down on my dying enemy with pity… eyes that lacerated me with a scorn I had done nothing to deserve…

I walked over to where Visokan waited with the chariot, and painfully hauled myself in. On the deck, I saw my blood spattered mace.

“It is a good weapon,” Visokan said gently, as he held out a cloth for me to dry the sweat that poured off me in an unending stream. “What does it know of dharma and adharma? What does it care?”

He drove slowly towards the river. I threw away my robes – and felt the soothing, healing caress of a gentle breeze.  My ‘father’, Vaayu – where were you when I was all alone, when my enemies covered me with their arrows and my friends with their contempt?

As I dived into the river, I heard the sound of Visokan driving away.

I floated in the water, letting the gentle eddies rock me like a baby in its cradle, and thought back to what I once was – the little boy who, every evening, would come to the riverbank looking for his father… the boy who, on feeling that first gentle touch of breeze on skin, would pray with all his heart to become the strongest, the bravest, the best warrior of all time.

That prayer had come true. I had grown big and strong – there was in my world no warrior to equal me, no one who had ever bested me in combat. I had fulfilled my vows, every last one of them; my last remaining enemy lay breathing his last in the dust, the thigh he had slapped in a lascivious invitation to my wife a bloodied, broken mess.

I had become what I wanted to be, done all that I vowed to do — and yet, what did I have? A wife I shared with four others… two other wives whose faces I couldn’t remember… a son who had given up his life for those who had delighted in his dying, two other sons who I did not know… and brothers who could never appreciate the depth of feeling I had for them…

Evening gave way to the pitch black of night, matching the darkness that swamped my mind, my heart.

I sat there for a long, long time. At some point, I thought I smelt smoke…

The urgent clatter of horses’ hooves woke me from my reverie. I looked around for my robe as Visokan drove up at reckless speed.

He jumped down before the chariot had come to a halt and ran towards me, sobbing.

“They are dead… Ashwathama… he came in the night, like a thief… he set fire to our camp… he killed them all while they slept…”

He collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking his frame.

From the depths of a heart grown suddenly cold, a question welled up and lodged in my throat: who?

My brothers had gone off into the forest to celebrate the victory, with them went Krishna and Satyaki. Dhristadyumna broke away from the party – I want to celebrate with the first good night’s sleep I have had since this started, he told them.

Ashwathama came in the middle of the night. With him was Kritavarma, and Kripa – the guru of our race. They set the camp on fire – that must have been the smoke I sensed, and ignored… as our people woke to this conflagration and rushed out in panic, Ashwathama cut them down one by one in the dark.

Dhristadyumna… our children, Draupadi’s sons… Prativindhya, Suthasoma, Shrutakirti, Shatanika, Shrutakarma… my son Sarvadha, who had become inseparable from his cousins…

Young men… boys, really – the future of the Kuru race, for whom we had slaughtered our kin and won a kingdom…

All dead.

I looked down at hands that seemed suddenly drained of their strength.

The war was over, but the enemy still lived.

The enemy never dies…

Following on from an earlier post about media response to former colleague Chindu Sreedharan’s Bhim-centric narrative on Twitter, here’s more — this time a story, and an interview, from Reuters.