The Draupadi debate: victim or feminist?

Irawati Karve's Yuganta

eople who tend to be easily offended (and to use this as an excuse for violence) continue to hyperventilate over
mythological holy cows. Yarlagadda Lakshmi Prasad's Sahitya Akademi Award-winning book Draupadi has
been the subject of loud protests (and much shoe-throwing) because the writer allegedly depicted the
Pandavas' queen "in a highly objectionable manner and used highly immoral words for her".
I've been privately amusing myself by imagining how these offence-takers would respond to Iravati Karve's
classic Yuganta, which is one of the most renowned academic studies of the Mahabharata and its characters.
Karve, who took a historical-cum-anthropological perspective on the great epic, was dismissive of the idea that
Draupadi was a proto-feminist Shakti/goddess figure she saw her as being just as dependent and subservient
as any other woman in a strongly patriarchial society. Her analysis of the crucial episode where the humiliated
queen poses a question of Dharma to the elders in the Kaurava assembly is especially scathing: she treats
Draupadi as a sort of pretender, trying to speak with authority about things that she doesn't know enough
about, and suggests that "she should instead have cried out for decency and pity in the name of the Kshatriya
code".
I don't agree with all of Karve's assessments, but the point is that here is a respected academic (and a woman
herself) engaging closely and intelligently with the text and treating its heroine as well as the other characters
as human beings with strengths and weaknesses. That's the best, most rewarding approach to
the Mahabharata, which is, first and foremost, one of the world's most complex literary works. I wish more
people would appreciate this.

Yuganta, by Irawati Karve - Reading The Mahabharata

This short and very readable book of essays on the Mahabharata was recommended by
rparvaaz,
who I believe has a copy for me. (Please e-mail me, and I'll send you my home address.) I read it
via inter-library loan, and am writing it up now as it's due today.
Karve was an anthropologist, and generally approaches the source with the concept that it
documents real people and events, but with an overlay of myth and many later and less-accurate
interpolations. (I say mostly because she doesn't entirely discount all of the mythic elements, like
Bhishma's boon to live until he chooses to die.) She likes the uncompromising harshness of the story,
compared to later (soft and sentimental, in her opinion) stories like Shakuntala, and her reading is
often startlingly harsh itself. And very eye-opening. I can't even begin to count the number of times
when I thought, "I never thought of that! But it makes a lot of sense."
As I soon must leave to return the book, this will be more scattered notes than a real review. I'll take
her essays in order.
"The Final Effort." This is about Bhishma, and is full of surprising (to me, anyway) interpretations.
She suggests that he became trapped in his role as dispassionate guardian, and so could not stir
himself to actually affect events, and that he chose Vyasa to father children on Ambika and Ambalika
because Vyasa would do it, then take off, whereas a younger man with a position at court might gain
power and threaten Bhishma.
Karve calculates his age at the start of the war to be 90-100! Personally, I think that sort of
calculation is bound to be misleading with a text that old and that has had so many additions over so
long, and it makes more sense to estimate people's ages based on what they're actually doing in the
text and how people react to them. (She does this in other essays too, such as claiming that Karna
must have been in his mid-twenties when he first challenged the teenage Arjuna, and so he was
being a bully. I think that even if mathematically that's true, the story never says anything about it
and instead indicates that they're evenly matched, so it makes more sense to take that as the case.)
It makes more sense to me to think of Bhishma as being in his sixties or early seventies-- old, but
still strong and hale. No way can a ninety-year-old fight for ten days in a war.
Anyway, she uses this to suggest that Duryodhana only asked him to be general as a formality and
courtesy, and was shocked when he accepted. And then Bhishma kicked out Karna and didn't fight
very hard in the hope of stopping the war... with the consequence that everyone got so annoyed with
him that they might not have tried too hard to protect him in the end. Oh, and she says that
Parasurama was an interpolation, and the original Bhishma was no great shakes as a warrior. I don't
know that I buy this, but it's interesting to think about.

"Gandhari." Her life sucked.

"Kunti." Her life sucked too.
Karve suggests that Durvasa fathered Karna, and the story about the earrings and armor arose from
him having been abandoned with gold to pay for his care. If that was right, would that mean he
really was a suta, and ineligible for the throne? But Karve later says that Vidura (a suta) might have
been Yudhisthira's biological father, which I think also makes him a suta. Doesn't the father have to
be a kshatriya (or a God) to make the child of royal birth? Vidura was ineligible for the throne

because his mother was a maid. But Vyasa was... what, exactly?
I am now totally confused about the legalities of what each parent must be under what circumstance
for their child to be a possibility to inherit the throne. (And Karna was given a kingdom, so that's a
possibility too. Would Vidura have ruled Hastinapur if Pandu and Dhritarashtra had both died without
producing heirs?)
Karve theorizes that Pandu was impotent, not cursed, and went to the forest so no one would know
who fathered his children. (But I thought it was legal for someone else to father children on a wife
with the husband's permission, so I'm not sure why that was necessary.)
"Father and Son?" This makes a plausible case for Vidura being Yudhisthiras bio-dad. Vidura was
supposed to be the incarnation of Yama, plus there was that weird thing where he lay down on top of
Yudhisthira when he was dying. There's also a nice discussion of sutas in this essay.
"Draupadi." A really harsh analysis of her behavior during the stripping, saying that she was stupid to
make a legal argument and instead should have thrown herself upon everyone's mercy as a helpless
violated woman. I really don't agree that that would have made the slightest bit of difference. Plus,
however useless it was in such a patriarchal time, I am a person of my time and as such, I think
Draupadi was awesome and had ten times the guts and integrity of anyone else there at the time.
There's also a comparison of the idealized Sita with the realistic Draupadi, and an adorable bit of
Draupadi/Bhima fantasy at the end.
"The Palace of Maya." This interprets the forest fire at Khandavaprastha as the Pandavas attempting
genocide against the Nagas, whom Karve suggests were tribal people with animal clan names. Yikes!
I have to say, after all the Pandava hagiography one comes across, I cracked up when she compared
them to Hitler.
"Paradharmo Bhayavaha." An analysis of the role of Drona and Aswatthama in terms of how they did
and did not behave as Brahmins.
"Karna." Again with the dissing of my favorite characters! She also says that his relationship with
Duryodhana was one of retainer and patron, not true friendship, as proved by Karna only marrying a
suta and not a Kaurava woman. For one thing, my recollection is that the only Kaurava woman was
Dussala, and she was taken. Plus, I can't disregard the many times the two of them are weeping in
each other's arms, swearing eternal loyalty, and just hanging out together. It seems much more like
the Krishna-Arjuna relationship to me. Though I do agree that Karna was certainly not considered an
equal by anyone else, except perhaps Krishna.
"Krishna Vasudeva." This talks about Krishna's goal of becoming a Vasudeva, which is apparently a
title and role that can only be borne by one man at a time. (I had assumed it was a patronymic, from
his father Vasudev.) Facinating stuff. Karve takes the position that Krishna was a brilliant man and a
great politician, and was only thought to be a God after his death. As I mentioned in an earlier post,
it explains the bizarre massacre of the Yadavas story as a mangled account of how the Yadavas got in
a drunken brawl and were then attacked by enemies wielding iron-tipped reeds, and that Krishna
chose to fight to the death rather than beg for protection from others (such as the Pandavas.)
"The End of a Yuga." This discusses the values and social conditions of the time, and how later Indian
literature displays changing values. Like the other essays, it's thought-provoking and packs a lot of
information, intelligence, and analysis into a very few words.

The whole inheritance thing is confusing me, too. I am also reminded of the Egyptian throne, where
the kingship passed through the woman. Egypt was not matrilineal in the strict sense, but it was the
royal blood of the woman that authorized the king to rule. Which is why the first thing a pharaoh did
when he gained the throne was to find himself a woman with some sort of royal blood to marry, to
legitimize his claim. She might be the daughter or widow of the previous pharaoh, or, if he was of
royal blood himself, she might be his sister or aunt. At least with the Pandavas, where the fathers
were all different but the mothers were married into the royal family, that sounds vaguely similar.
Coincidentally, my ILL copy of Yuganta just arrived, along with Mahabharata: The End of an Era
(Yuganta), edited by Ajay Mitra Shastri, which looks to be similar.

Is there any chance that someone far-removed from the library systems of the civilized world (but
with high-speed internet access) could find this book? (*hopeful*)
Oooh, oooh, so many comments. Karna... Funny because the adult challenging a teenager thing at
the weapons contest was always how I imagined that in my mind. I mean, I always just assumed
that Drona would want to show off Arjuna sooner rather than later (while he's still a teenage
heartthrob), and, knowing the chronology of the story, well, Karna would have to have been
somewhat older than Arjuna at the time. I can't recall ever reading a version that specified their ages
at the time (or was it buried somewhere in the Ganguli mess?), but in my head, that's always how it
was. But I never saw it as Karna bullying Arjuna because of his age. Nor did anyone else actually
present at the contest. It seemed like of all the issues brought up in the weapons contest, age is the
one issue that everyone ignored, because it had no bearing on anything.
And then Bhishma kicked out Karna...
I always thought it was Karna who threw the temper tantrum and refused to fight if Bhisma was on
the field? Oh these many confusing versions.
No way can a ninety-year-old fight for ten days in a war.
You never met my great grandmother.
"Father and Son?" This makes a plausible case for Vidura being Yudhisthiras bio-dad. Vidura was
supposed to be the incarnation of Yama, plus there was that weird thing where he lay down on top of
Yudhisthira when he was dying. There's also a nice discussion of sutas in this essay.
I still think that my favorite cracktastic interpretation of Vidura is the one where he's a future
incarnation of Yudhisthira born in Yudhisthira's past.
On a more plausible level, but kind of on a tangent, I always kind of bought the theory that Vidura
fell in love with Kunti at some point. But he never touched her, of course. Because he's Vidura and he
doesn't roll like that. Although I thought that under some circumstances, it was all right for a man to
accept his brother's widow as his wife?
"Draupadi." A really harsh analysis of her behavior during the stripping, saying that she was stupid
to make a legal argument and instead should have thrown herself upon everyone's mercy as a
helpless violated woman. I really don't agree that that would have made the slightest bit of
difference. Plus, however useless it was in such a patriarchal time, I am a person of my time and as
such, I think Draupadi was awesome and had ten times the guts and integrity of anyone else there
at the time.

Quoted for truth.

Karna... Funny because the adult challenging a teenager thing at the weapons contest was always how I
imagined that in my mind. I mean, I always just assumed that Drona would want to show off Arjuna
sooner rather than later (while he's still a teenage heartthrob), and, knowing the chronology of the story,
well, Karna would have to have been somewhat older than Arjuna at the time.
Yeah, I had pictured him about five years older. I don't know what the difference is canonically (and like I
said, I don't really trust age-calculations) but I think if Karna was better than Arjuna because he was older
and so physically stronger, that would have been stated.
I always thought it was Karna who threw the temper tantrum and refused to fight if Bhisma was on the
field? Oh these many confusing versions.
Yeah, I've heard it both ways too. If the latter, it reminds me of Achilles sulking in his tent.
I still think that my favorite cracktastic interpretation of Vidura is the one where he's a future incarnation
of Yudhisthira born in Yudhisthira's past.
That is awesome. Where did you come across that?

As for the Yudhisthira=Vidura thing... It was a long time ago, when I was searching on the web for
information about reincarnation. I came across an article written by someone... I want to say that it
was on one of the major websites like Hindunet or something, but I have no bookmark, and my
memory is fuzzy. Anyway, the guy was explaining that reincarnation doesn't happen in linear time,
and that a "future" reincarnation of someone could actually be born in the chronological past. And
then he casually mentioned Yudhisthira and Vidura as an example. As in, by the way, Vidura was a
future reincarnation of Yudhisthira even though he was born before Yudhisthira; and then he merges
with Yudhisthira at tne end. Or something. It was a very casual mention, but I still remember it very
clearly because I remember thinking, "That's pretty awesome."

"Karna." Again with the dissing of my favorite characters! She(Iravati Karve) also says that his
relationship with Duryodhana was one of retainer and patron, not true friendship...
I've seen this argument used by authors who obviously really like Karna but really despise
Duryodhana. So they rewrite Karna so that he never really "liked" Duryodhana, or they generally try
to distance him as far from Duryodhana as possible. Dinkar's The Sun Charioteer is the most blatant
example of this that I can think of off the top of my head.
Regardless of what the motivation or reasoning behind it is, ignoring the Karna/Duryodhana
relationship strips away a good chunk of what makes the Mahabharata interesting and morally
complex, in my opinion.

I'm assuming that this is the one that also said that Yuddhisthira's father was probably Vidura,
judging by the practice of niyoga. Made sense to me, I mean, I wouldn't procreate with Dhritarashtra
if you paid me a million dollars. Vidura, on the other hand, had his head screwed on right.

I hated the part about Draupadi deserving what she got since she defended herself, and didn't play
the part of a damsel in distress. Perhaps it's just me, but I think it would be highly out of character
for a woman born out of fire to be meek.
This reminds me, I have to re-read this. I forgot how wonderfully entertaining it can be.

ahem. bhishma did not choose vyasa. satyavati did.

drona was 85 at the time of the war 9clearly mentioned in text), and bhishma wsa drona's
contemporary.
duryodhana asked bhishma not quite as a formality. he reckoned the pandavas would fight a little
less valiantly if they saw grandad out there. worked fine for arjuna, didn't it?
durvasa as karna's father, vidura as yudhishtira's... i've heard these before. but vyasa doesn't strike
me as a person who would shrink from recording a scandal in the family, heh heh.
vidura was sierd by a brahmin upon a sudra woman, which makes him not a suta, but a paarasava.
totally ineligible. however, caste then depended not just on birth, but also on upbringing. so, a born
kshatriya (e.g. karna) brought up as a suta, would remain a suta unless something drastic happened
(as in the case of krishna - born a kshatriya, brought up as a gopa - which is a vaishya subcaste made to wear the mantle of a kshatriya again).
that fathering children bit was absolutely legal.
vidura did not lay down on top of yudhishthira... humph. he entered yudi in spirit. no physical contact
is mentioned. he walked away from yudi when yudi tried to touch his feet.
drona and aswatthama? didn't she analyze the un-kshatriya characteristics of vishwamitra (he was a
kshatriya, then decided to become a brahmin by penance), or come to that yudhishthira?
vaasudeva is indeed a patronymic. however, you may be given the name vaasudeva, even if you are
not the son of vasudeva. there was another king who wanted to be known as vaasudeva as well
(taking the meaning 'lord of the world'), and declared that he was the rtue vaasudeva and krishna a
pretender. hence the battle between him and krishna.

Bhishma and Iravati Karves Yuganta

It was only recently that I had the pleasure of reading Iravati Karves tour de force Yuganta,
which I found one of the most brilliant and original studies of the Mahabharata. The first
essay in the study is on Bhishma, and in it she talks about the futility of the grandsires long
life that spans several generations.

Karve begins the essay by summarising the plot, leading up to Bhishma bringing home
young Satyavati and presenting her to his old father as his new wife. Here the scholarly
author makes a brilliant comparison of Bhishmas sacrifice for the sake of his father
Shantanu with that of his ancestor Purus for the sake of his father Yayati and then asks
what Bhishma gained by the sacrifice in contrast to his ancestor who got his fathers
kingdom overriding the rights of his elder brothers.

When you think of it, the sacrifices are strikingly similar. To begin with, both fathers are old
and both sons young Bhishma is perhaps twenty years old when he makes his sacrifice
and Puru, though we do not know his exact age, is the youngest of his fathers sons, all of
them in their youth. In both cases, the sacrifice is made by the sons so that their aged
fathers can enjoy sensual, and more specifically sexual, pleasures. In Purus case what he
sacrifices is his youth, whereas in Bhishmas case, it is more than his youth that he
sacrifices: he sacrifices right to the throne, his whole life, and more.

By taking the vow of urdhvaretatva, celibacy, he puts an end to his prajatantu his family
line. Indian culture sees few other sins as greater than that of breaking the prajatantu. In
the famous convocation address in the Taittiriya Upanishad, when the Upanishadic guru
gives his parting advice to his disciple, the very first duty he enjoins upon the student after
giving gurudakshina is to see that he does not break the family line: achryya priyam
dhanam hrtya prajtantum m vyavacchetsh.

The Mahabharata itself and the Puranas tell us stories of men whose austerities turned void
because they did not fulfil this duty enjoined on them. It is the Mahabharata itself that tells
us the story of the ascetic Jaratkaru who was turned back from his ascetic life and asked to
turn to family life in order to save his ancestors Jaratkaru subsequently begets Asita, who
stops Janamajayas sarpasatra through which the king was trying to exterminate the Nagas.
The Padma Purana tells us the story of Mahasati Sukala, whose husband Krikala was
similarly turned back from the ascetic life and asked to go back to family life by his
ancestors.

Pitr-rna, debt to the manes, is one of the basic debts that each man is born with according
to the ancient Indian tradition. Apart from rejecting the sexual urge and its expression for
himself along with the pleasures and privileges of family life, what Bhishma did by taking his

vow to remain an urdhvareta, was to fail in this regard. Bhishma had grown up fully aware of
the tradition that said when a man failed to produce a son, his manes fell from their world.

Coming back to Iravati Karves question, in contrast to Puru who gains a kingdom and
becomes the vamsha-vardhaka, the progenitor of the race, what does Bhishma gain by the
great sacrifice he makes? True, the gods shower flowers upon him at the moment of his vow.
True, the world calls him Bhishma from that moment on. But apart from that? The answer is:
futility, emptiness, frustration and lifelong suffering.

Well, he did get one solid thing from his father, points out Karve: icchamrtyu, the power to
choose the time of his death. However, the author clarifies this: what he wins in return for
his sacrifice is avadhyata, not ajeyata he cannot be killed by others, but it does not mean
that he cannot be defeated. And avadhyata can be a curse at times, and it mostly is:
through that privilege Bhishma lost the blessing of being killed on the spot in a battle, which
privilege all kshatriyas had.

Karve observes that perhaps Bhishma got carried away by his own oath as a man who falls
into a mighty river gets carried away helplessly by its torrent.

How true Karves observation is proved by words in which he refuses Satyavatis subsequent
request to break his vows, occupy the throne of Hastinapura, and marry and beget children.
Satyavati makes that request because his vows had by then become meaningless. His vows
were taken so that Satyavatis children could inherit the Bharata throne, but her husband
and children were now dead and the Bharata throne itself had become without a master.
This is what Bhishma says in answer to the request of his widowed step mother:

I shall give up the three worlds, I shall give up the empire of the gods, and if there is
anything greater than these, I shall give up that too but I will not give up my truth. The
five elements may give up their nature, earth the fragrance it exudes, water the taste it
brings, light the forms it reveals, air the sense of touch and space its capacity for sound. The
sun may give up its splendour, the moon its coolness, Indra his valour and the lord of
justice, justice itself but I will not give up my truth. Let the world end in dissolution, let
everything go up in flames but I shall not give up my truth. Immortality holds no
temptations for me, nor does overlordship of the three worlds.

True, one should keep ones vows. But at what cost? And when they have become totally
meaningless? When keeping the vow defeats the very purpose for which it is taken rather
than breaking it? And when the person for whose sake you took that vow requests it?

Iravati Karve is absolutely right in arguing that Bhishma is like a man fallen into a river. As I
observe elsewhere [Krishna: A Study in Transformational Leadership

http://www.boloji.com/Hinduism/136.htm] Bhishma becomes obsessed with his vows and

gets helplessly carried away by them. He becomes narcissistic and lives trapped in his own
self-image. In Karves words, he has become intoxicated with his vow, drunk on it.

The essay also questions the sincerity of Bhishmas commitment to the throne of
Hastinapura because of which he stood by it through thick and thin, eventually leading its
army against the Pandavas whom he believed to be virtuous, competent and the rightful
heirs to the throne of Hastinapura. She uses Bhishmas refusal to break his vow and occupy
the throne and beget children to question the sincerity of his commitment. If he had such
intense love for the family of the Kurus, she asks, why did he not break his vows and accept
Satyavatis request?

Karve sees a dual purpose in Bhishmas immediate acceptance of the position of the
commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army when Duryodhana requests him that is, a dual
purpose apart from his possible desire to lead such a mighty army as that of Duryodhana.
One, to keep Karna away from Duryodhanas side, which Bhishma knew he would so long as
he was fighting, and thus weaken Duryodhana; and two, to persuade Duryodhana to give
the war even at that stage by frustrating his victory through dilly-dallying, which, through an
analysis of the battle of the first ten days, the author argues he did.

O0O

While Karves essay on Bhishma is brilliant on the whole, there are details and observations
she makes with which one has to disagree, some of minor importance and others quite
significant.

For instance, speaking of Vyasas niyoga with the wives of Vichitravirya, the author refers to
the third queen learning that Vyasa [a terrifying brahmana] is going to come to her and
sending her maid to him. As we all know, there is no third queen there are only Ambika
and Ambalika. And the Mahabharata is quite specific about who was asked to receive the
sage again in her bed after Ambalika gave birth to Pandu: Ambika, the elder of the two
queens jyeshhm vadhm.

Karve talks of Bhishma getting Kunti to wed Pandu, sort of against her will. The expression
she uses in the Hindi version is gale bndh diya, clearly meaning it was not according to
her wish. She then argues that this was an injustice done to Kunti because Pandu was
incapable of intimacy with women. She asks how much her soul must have cursed Bhishma
for this.

The facts are however different. Though there is a discussion between Bhishma and Vidura
in which Bhishma talks of getting Kunti as a wife for Pandu, the Mahabharata tells us that it

is in a swayamvara that she chooses him from an assembly of several princes, all on her
own accord, and impressed by him. The critical edition is brief here, though that too says
she chose him in the swayamvara:

rpasattvagunopet dharmrm mahvrat

duhit kuntibhojasya krte pitr svayamvare
simhadamshtram gajaskandham rshabhksham mahbalam
bhmiplasahasrnm madhye pndum avindata

Pandu, according to the critical edition verse quoted above, is elephant-shouldered, has the
eyes of a bull, and is mighty powerful. [A slight aside: The critical edition, praising Pandu
here, says he had the fangs of a lion simhadamshtra. Very unlikely. Another case of the
critical edition getting it wrong. The Gita Press edition has it right: simhadarpa with the
pride of a lion. Even the expression gajaskandha, elephant-shouldered, is strained. The Gita
Presss mahoraska in its place is beautiful] And Kunti wins [chooses] him from among
thousands of kings in her swayamvara.

The Gita Press edition of the epic describes the swayamvara in greater detail. It describes
how she sees him, the best of the Bharatas [bharatasattamam] in the assembly of princes,
looking like a tiger among kings [rjashrdla], with the pride of a lion, a powerful chest
[mahoraska], the [intoxicated] eyes of a bull and mighty strong. Like the sun that eclipses
all other celestial luminaries when it rises, he eclipsed all other kings with his glory. Seated
in the assembly, he looks like a second Indra and seeing him, Kunti, every limb of hers
tormented by longing [kmapartngi], loses all control over her mind [prachalamnas] and
her heart becomes wildly disconcerted [hrdayena kul]. That is how she chooses Pandu
from among the men in the assembly. Karves saying that Bhishma forced her upon Pandu
[against her wish], thus earning her hearts curses, does not agree with the reality of the
epic at all.

Also, Karve implies that Bhishma knew Pandu was impotent when he got Kunti and Madri
married to him. The epic states, though, that Pandu receives the curse that makes him
impotent while he was living in the jungle with his two wives. He had left his kingdom to his
brother Dhritarashtra, for whatever reasons, and had gone to live in the jungle and it is
there that he comes across sage Kindama having sex in the form of a deer and kills him
while the sage is in the middle of the act and receives his curse that he cannot have sex
with his wife and if he did, he would die.

In an article of mine [The Puzzle of Pandu; http://boloji.com/hinduism/121.htm] I have

argued that Pandus impotency is unlikely to be the result of the curse but is psychological
and has much earlier origins. However, in all probability, Bhishma had no clue of this and to
imply that he got two wives for Pandu in spite of knowing he was impotent is definitely
wrong.

O0O

Karve argues that people of Bhishmas day did not approve his action of carrying away the
three Kashi princesses, Amba, Ambika and Ambalika, from their swayamvara hall. She sites
Shishupalas words in the Rajasooya hall as a proof for this. Well, when Shishupala abuses
Bhishme in the Rajasooya hall, he is fuming in hatred at Bhishma and Krishna and if we take
his words to be true or representative of the general feeling of the people, both Krishna and
Bhishma would me the most hated people of the age. The fact is just the reverse. And
definitely so in the case of Bhishma even when Krishna was controversial, Bhishma
commanded universal respect in his age.

As for carrying the princesses away from their swayamvara, this was a perfectly respectable
custom among the kshatriyas of the day. We must remember here that Bhishma does not
just come there, snatch them and run away. He stands there and explains precisely what he
is going to do and challenges the assembled princesses to stop him if they can. As Amba
says later after she was rejected by Shalva, her swayamvara was not an ordinary one but
one that required the suitor to prove his valour and claim her and her sisters they were
viryashulkas, their bride price was valour. And as Bhishma himself explains in the assembly
of kings, of the eight types of marriages practised in the land, what was considered the
most desirable for a kshatriya was swayamvara and even among swayamvaras, what was
considered superior by the virtuous was carrying away the bride/s after defeating the other
kshatriyas through valour:

svayamvaram tu rjanyh praamsanti upaynti ca

pramathya tu hrtm huh jyyasm dharmavdinah.

Elsewhere Bhishma says, he went there after hearing they were to be won over through
valour: vryaulkca t jtv.

He challenges them repeatedly, announcing himself by name and informing them again and
again that he is going to carry them away: bhshmah antanavah kany haratti punah
punah.

I do not think the people of the day considered this action of Bhishma evil. No, what he did
was the most respectable thing for a warrior hero in his days.

Incidentally, even in his insane criticism of Bhishma, Shishupala does not accuse him of
abducting the princesses for another person [for his half brother and not for himself].
Apparently there was nothing wrong with it according to the rules of the times. What
Shishupala finds fault with Bhishma is for abducting a princess who was anyakm who
desired another man. He is referring exclusively to Amba.

Karve also makes Shishupala say that the whole world knew that Amba had chosen/married
Shalva. In the Hindi text, Shishupala tells Bhishma: amb ne lva k varan kiy th. sr
duniy is bt ko jnt th. phir bh tum ne usk haran kar lye. The English text is: Though
it was known to all that Amba had been promised to Shalva, you abducted her.

Well, here again Karve is wrong. This is how the passage she is referring to appears in the
Mahabharata:

anyakm hi dharmaja kanyak prjnamnin

amb nmeti bhadram te katham spahrt tvayi

Translated, this means: How was it that you, who think you know dharma, carried away the
virtuous maiden called Amba who desired another man?

Unlike what Karve says, Shishupala does not say anywhere that the whole world knew Amba
had chosen or married Shalva. All he says is she was anyakm desired, and/or was
desired by, another man. In the Mahabharata, what happened between Amba and Shalva
before she was abducted by Bhishma was their own secret. Amba herself says her love for
Shalva and Shalvas love for her was their secret - even their father did not know that. Even
in her most furious moments, Amba does not accuse Bhishma of carrying her away knowing
that she belonged to another. True, this is the version of the story that Bhishma tells on the
eve of the Mahabharata war, explaining why he will not fight Shikhandi, who is a
reincarnation of Amba. In spite of this, however, there is no indication anywhere in the
Mahabharata that it was public knowledge [sr duniy is bt ko jnt th. it was public
knowledge.] that Amba had chosen/married Shalva.

Apart from putting the words the whole world knew Amba had chosen/married Shalva into
the mouth of Shishupala, the author in her own words asserts this soon after: amb man se
lva ki thi jnte hue bhi bhshma use rath mein baithkar kyon ly? [Despite knowing
that Amba in her heart belonged to Shalva, why did Bhishma carry her away in the chariot?]

O0O

According to Iravati Karve, the reason why other men of the Kuru family were not considered
for the niyoga with Ambika is that choosing another male from the royal family would have
given that person the position of the father of the future king and much power would have
gone into his hands and away from Bhishmas hands. So, she says, it occurred to Satyavati
and Bhishma that someone unrelated to the royal family of the Kurus would be the ideal
choice.

Was Bhishma so power-greedy, like a modern politician? Was the choice made so that
Bhishmas power would not be reduced?

While that certainly is not impossible, I feel a different possibility. The choice, once Bhishma
rejected the honour, was made not on the basis of whom to avoid, but on the basis of whom
to select. Vyasa, the person chosen was not exactly some forest-dwelling brahmana, but
Satyavatis own son. And it is Satyavati who suggests his name when Bhishma puts forward
the suggestion that the niyoga be performed by some noble brahmana.

We know that when Shantanu wanted to marry Satyavati, then commonly known as Kali, her
father Dasharaja insisted that the marriage would take place only if a promise was made
that the son born to her would inherit Shantanus throne. Going beyond this, he also looked
into the possibility that if Bhishma married, his sons born in the future might make claims
over the throne. To avoid this possibility, Bhishma takes his two well known vows: one,
giving up his claim over the throne, and the other, forswearing sex and becoming a lifelong
celibate. We generallynassume these were the conditions that Dasharaja set, and Kali
Satyavati had nothing to do with them.

How true is this? Couldnt Dasharaja have been expressing Kalis desires and making
demands on her behalf? From what we know of Kali, she was a hard bargainer. When
Parashara, Vyasas father, saw her and desired her, she does not give herself to him straight
away, but sets conditions before him. True, we do not see in the Mahabharata her setting
these conditions her story is told very briefly there. However, if we go by the Devi
Bhagavata Purana, first she ridicules him for being obsessed with her, a fish-smelling girl,
whose fowl smell spread for miles around. Do I not disgust you, she asks him. The sages
response is to turn her fish smell into the fragrance of musk. Then she objects to making
love in the day light. The sage creates a mist and through it, darkness. Then she objects to
making love while they are in the river she was ferrying him across the Yamuna. Parashara
agrees to wait until they reach the other bank. She then takes from him the promise that
her father [and other people] do not come to know of what they are going to do, and the
boon that she will retain her virginity even after intercourse. It is only then she gives herself
to him

Couldnt this Kali-Satyavati have been the one who demanded all those vows from Shantanu
and young Satyavrata? Couldnt her father Dasharaja have been merely expressing her
wishes? Isnt it possible that it was Kali who was really power hungry and not Dasharaja?

I believe it is quite possible that Satyavati had a hunger for power. Perhaps in her there was
the power hunger of a princess brought up as a fishergirl and it is that hunger that made her
bargain with Shantanu and Satyavarata [Bhishma] in the beginning. And it is perhaps the
same power hunger, once she finds an opportunity, that made her choose her son Vyasa as
the man to perform niyoga with her daughters-in-law. That way she could make sure that it
is her blood that inherits the throne. It would be the same, from her standpoint, as
Chitrangadas or Vichitraviryas son occupying the throne. All three are equally her sons.

It is very possible that it was quite innocently that Bhishma suggested that the niyoga be
done with a brahmana. It is very possible that Satyavati pounced on this opportunity and
decided to have it done with her son Vyasa.

O0O

A very minor thing. Karve sees Kunti as kafi moti tagdi quite hefty and fat, implying
unattractiveness. But that is not how the Mahabharata sees her. She gives the impression of
being a strong woman, but that is because of her great inner strength. Otherwise, the epic
describes her as irresistibly beautiful. Here are a few descriptions of her physical beauty
from the verses dealing with her swayamvara: prthulalocan, with large eyes, which in India
have always been a sign of beauty; tejaswin lustrous; rupayauvanalini endowed with
beauty and youth. Other words used to describe her are adbhutadaran, wondrous to look
at, subhag, auspicious one, and tanumadhyam, slender-waisted. She is far from being
kafi moti tagdi. [To Karves credit, in the English version, done by herself, she alters this
and says that she was apparently a large, big-boned girl. Perhaps she was, who knows,
though the Mahabharata says nothing like that.]

O0O

One of the most interesting questions Karve asks in her essay is why Bhishma chose to
accept the position of the commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army. Why did he not decide
to go to the forest and spend his old days there, when his stepmother did? Or if not then, at
least why did he not go on a pilgrimage on the eve of the war, as Balarama did, since his
heart too was divided? Karves answer is interesting: Bhishma accepted the position of the
commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army so that he could slow down the war in the hope of
the war being called off by Duryodhana seeing that he was not winning. Karve also sees a
second reason behind his acceptance of the postion: to keep Karna away from battling for
Duryodhana so long as he lived.

In the context of this discussion, Karve makes this fascinating observation. Talking of
Duryodhanas offer of the position of the commander-in-chief of his army to Bhishma, the
author says: Pandavon ne use kulvrddh hone ka jo gaurav nahin diya, us ki khaanapoori

duryodhan ne ki. Duryodhana gave him the respect that was his due as the eldest of the
kula, which the Pandavas did not give him. She is referring to the Pandavas not offering him
the agrapuja during the rajasuya, as the English text makes clear: the honor which had
been denied to him by the Pandavas at the sacrifice.

When you think of it, it is rather strange that the Pandavas did not do it. He was the eldest
of the Kuru family [Bahlika was there, but he was not a dominant figure.] His reputation as
an indomitable warrior was great even the redoubtable Parashurama, his guru, had not
been able to defeat him in battle. He was learned in every branch of knowledge and he
commanded great respect for his integrity. In every sense of the word, Bhishma was a living
legend. Besides, the Pandavas were very close to his heart, and they themselves held him in
great reverence and were indebted to him for so many things. He seems to be the natural
choice. I doubt if the thought of the agrapuja being offered to Krishna had come to anyones
mind before Bhishma suggested it. Yet when it comes to the agrapuja, the Pandavas do not
offer it to him. Instead, Yudhishthira asks the grandsire to whom it should be offered.

After Bhishmas fall in the war, when time comes for the next commander-in-chief to be
appointed, Duryodhana does a very clever thing. Rather than straight away making Drona
the next commander-in-chief, he asks Karna, who is the other claimant to the position, who
should be given that position. Asked thus, even if Karna desired that position and felt he was
the best choice, it becomes rather delicate for him to do say so. He suggests that Drona be
given that position and Duryodhana happily does so.

It is perhaps the same thing happening here. Rather than offering the puja to Bhishma,
Yudhishthira goes and asks him who should be given the position. Bhishma naturally does
not claim it for himself but suggests Krishnas name. Was Yudhishthira deliberately denying
that honour to Bhishma through that question? Was Bhishmas ready acceptance of the
position of the commander-in-chief of the Kaurava army at least partly influenced by
Yudhishthiras not giving him the honour that was his due? I think there is a strong
possibility of this being so, as Karve suggests.

Karves discussion on the age of Bhishma is one of the most conservative and clear I have
come across. She argues that Bhishma should be at least ninety-two and possibly one
hundred and two at the time of the war. In her discussion though, she forgets to add some
years. After being appointed yuvaraja, Devavrata remains as the crown prince for four years
[varshni chatvri]. The epic tells as that the battle between the two Chitrangadas lasted
three years. These years are not added to her calculation.

According to Karve, at the time when he carried away the Kashi princesses from their
swayamvara hall, Bhishma must be a minimum of thirty-four years old. Well, in the context
of the swayamvara, the Mahabharata uses the word vrddha meaning an old man to
describe him three times in three consecutive verses and in the third verse it describes him
as valpalitadhranah his skin is wrinkled from age and his hair is white. The princesses
take one look at him, and they turn around and run away seeing how old he is. This is hardly

the description of a thirty-four year old royal warrior. There is no question of premature
aging in the case of Bhishma his health was perfect until his last days.

There are more years that Karve fails to add. She says Vichitraveerya died soon immediately
after his marriage. The Mahabharata tells us that he lives a life of indulgence with his two
wives for seven years [tbhym saha samh sapta viharan] after which he falls sick.
Attempts are made to cure him through all known means, which too must have taken time.

She gives one year gap between Bhima and Arjuna the Mahabharata mentions at least two
years. Of course that does not make much difference in calculating Bhishmas age. But she
also mentions Arjuna must have been at least sixteen years of age at the time of his
marriage with Draupadi. Well, he has completed his studies in the meantime, completed a
digvijaya while Yudhishthira was the crown prince [this maybe an interpolation], and, after
the house of lac was set fire to, lived in the jungle for some while. Sixteen seems too less.
Also, there is a passage [again possibly an interpolation] which very specifically mentions
that Pandu died on Arjunas sixteenth birthday while the birthday celebrations were going
on, while Kunti was busy serving meals to the invited brahmanas, Pandu takes Madri with
him to the jungle and there meets with his death. If Pandus death happens when Arjuna is
sixteen, then all the incidents mentioned earlier are subsequent to this, making Arjuna
much older at the time of his marriage.

Of course, between ninety-two and one hundred and two is very old indeed and adding up
all these years to that will make Bhishma impossibly old. Perhaps Karve was right in trying
to arrive at a conservative estimate, though the epic differs from the figures she gives.

O0O

These problems are there with Yuganta. But in spite of all these, I want to repeat, Karves
study is brilliant and extremely valuable. The stand she takes for looking at the epic story is
thoroughly rational and boldly independent and her analytical powers are admirably superb.

DeepuJuly 8, 2009 at 1:02 AM

This is a good and detailed critique of Karve's Yuganta. I have been meaning to read this,
and your analysis only makes me want it more.

Yuganta and the Vidura-Yudhishthira Relationship i...

Mahabharata: Right to the Bharata Throne

The Puzzle of Pandu

by Satya Chaitanya

One of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen is

a male and a female deer united in coitus. I can still
vividly recall the scene from three decades ago
because every small detail of it is indelibly etched in
my mind so radiant was the sight. There was the
deer park, with a tall net fence around it, surrounded
by huge trees in verdant green. In the distance was a
hillock and nearby, a large lake with branches of
ancient trees bending into it, under which I often sat
with a book in my hand as the sun serenely
journeyed towards the ocean in the western sky. The
mating deer couple stood there, the front legs of the
male over the doe, their bodies united. The female
was absolutely still, not a muscle moved in her
body, her eyes did not blink; and in those eyes, in
her entire body you could see total surrender,

surrender to the act that was going on, surrender to

life, surrender to existence. She was no more she
then, she had lost her individuality, her identity as
an individual animal, and had become one with her
Mother, with mother nature, she had ceased to exist
as separate from her. It looked as though she was in
some deep trance, a trance that had filled her being
with the bliss of surrender to the total. The
movement of life all around the united couple, the
quiet, unhurried movement of the other deer in the
park as they nibbled here and there, the gentle
swinging of the trees in the soft breeze, all seemed
to add to the stillness in which the doe stood. I was
so overwhelmed by the sight that after I moved
away from the park it took me hours to come back
to the reality of everyday living.
The Mahabharata tells us Pandu saw exactly this same sight when he was out hunting one
day. The next moment he took out five sharp arrows, golden and shining, with beautiful
feathers attached to them, and shot the male and the female. The male, who was a sage
who had changed himself into a deer, the epic tells us, cursed Pandu in his moments of
death that Pandu would meet with his death when he made love to his wife because he
had killed him while he was engaged in coitus.
Pandu had seen the deer couple was engaged in sex the Mahabharata makes it very
clear. He killed them seeing with his eyes that they were making love. Kindama, the sage
who had transformed himself into the deer, tells Pandu what he had done was unthinkable
not even men totally devoid of all intelligence, men who were constantly engaged in
sin, men who had no control over their lusts and anger, did what he had done. Killing a
male and a female while they were engaged in coitus is truly unheard of. How could a
king of the Bharatas, a royal family so rooted in righteousness, do such a thing?
The question Kindama asked Pandu puzzled me for a long, long time. In my attempt to
understand Pandu and the nature of his action, I read repeatedly all that the Mahabharata

tells us about Pandu. And the deeper I delved into his life and his personality, the more
puzzled I became. Everything about Pandu seemed to be a riddle.
For instance, why would a young prince after spending thirty nights with his new wife
and with an earlier wife, leave them and go on a world conquest in which he ruthlessly, to
use the words of the Mahabharata, reduces his rival kings to ashes? Why would that
young prince, the long awaited occupant of the throne of the Kuru-Bharatas, adored by
all, immediately after completing a world conquest, at the height of his glory, leave
everything behind and go to the forest taking his two wives with him to make hunting his
full time occupation? The Mahabharata tells us that his wives advised him to do so. Why
would two young wives of a lustrous young king ask him to leave behind his kingdom
and all its comforts as well as the challenge and responsibility of ruling it and go and live
in the forest, spending his time hunting?
And there were other riddles.
Pandu had to ask his wives to beget children for him with the help of other men through
the ancient custom of niyoga, in which a man other than the husband impregnated
women. Why exactly did he have to do that? Was it because of the curse of Kindama? Or
had Pandu been impotent all along? How exactly did he die? And the day he chose to die:
the fourteenth birthday of his son Arjuna. And the time: It is while mantras were being
chanted by a section of the brahmanas and a feast was being served to other brahmanas by
Kunti that Pandu leads Madri away into the quietude of the jungle where he later makes
love to her and meets with his death.
Why did he do that? Was Arjunas birthday no occasion for celebration for Pandu? Was he
registering his protest against the celebration, and against Arjuna and Kunti, by walking
away from the feast of which he was the host and hence shouldnt have left? If so, what
was he protesting against?
My first clue came from a verse in the epic. As Pandu lay dead after engaging in sex with
his younger wife Madri, Kunti who comes rushing to the scene blames her for their
husbands death. And then she says: Blessed are you, Madri, and more fortunate than I
am. For, you were able to see the face of the king rapturous.??????? (DhanyA tvam asi
bAhleeki matto bhAgyatarA tathA, drshtavatyasi yad vaktram prahrshtasya maheepateh
Adi 124.21). Kunti was referring to the ecstasy of a sexual climax that still lingered on the
dead Pandus face an expression Kunti was familiar with on other mens faces, on the
faces of the four different men who had fathered her children, but was never lucky to see
on the face of Pandu, her husband.
The Mahabharata tells us specifically that a smile lingered on Pandus face even in his
death.
Kunti had never once in her life seen Pandus face lost in the throes of sexual ecstasy. She
had never once seen on his face that post-coital smile of contentment that was there in his
death. And yet nothing in the Mahabharata tells us that Pandu had rejected her sexually.

He was deeply in love with her from the day she chose him for a husband to the last day
of his life. So if this first wife of his, this beautiful woman he had obtained for himself in
a swayamvara and had brought home proudly, the woman he had lived with in regal
comforts in Hastinapura and in the loneliness of jungles and mountains, the woman who
was his constant companion all through his lonely, tortured life, hadnt once seen his face
so in all their life together, and that in spite of Pandu being desperate for children, then
the conclusion is clear and inevitable: Pandu was impotent all through his married life.
That explains a lot of things about Pandu. For instance, it explains why Bheeshma was in
a hurry to get a second wife for him. The Mahabharata does not tell us how long it was
before Bheeshma went and got Madri for Pandu as a wife, paying a bride price as the
Madra-Bahleeka custom demanded to her brother Shalya. It just tells us a word that
means then or afterwards in the beginning verse of a new chapter this then could be
immediately after the Kunti-Pandu marriage, it could be sometime later too. Getting
young Pandu a second wife as soon as he had obtained for himself one wife does not
make sense, unless it was meant to be an urgent political alliance, which it does not look
like. Besides, Bheeshma would have been very, very reluctant to offer his nephew two
young beautiful wives at the same time he had done it with Pandus father
Vichitraveerya and the consequences were disastrous.
Vichitra had been obsessed with his two pretty queens that he spent his entire time in sex
with them and eventually died of the dreaded royal disease of the day,rajayakshma, all the
royal physicians from the kingdom and abroad failing to save his life. It is this death that
had made necessary the hated niyogas which produced Dhritarashtra, Pandu and Vidura.
It is extremely unlikely that a once scalded Bheeshma would want to repeat his
experience.
The second marriage should have been after some time and there should have been an
important reason behind it. It was not a love marriage but an arranged one, a political
alliance does not seem to have been a desperate necessity, which leaves us one other
strong possibility. The marriage had failed to produce what the Kuru-Bharata family
needed more urgently than anything else: an heir to Pandu, in case anything happened to
the young king. The Kunti-Pandu marriage had failed to produce offspring, which would
be the case because Pandu was impotent from the beginning. Bheeshma, who had no idea
that Kunti was already a mother before her marriage, must have assumed this could be
because of some fault with her the woman is the first suspect in such cases and getting a
second wife is the easiest solution for the man, particularly for a king. He might not even
have considered the possibility that Pandu was impotent. And Pandu might not have
revealed it himself, nor Kunti. So Bheeshma gets Madri as a second wife for Pandu.
It also explains why Pandu left on a world conquest thirty nights after his wedding with
Madri. The Mahabharata tells us it is exactly after thirty nights that he left on the
conquest and the words used are not thirty days, but thirty nights. Nights of a whole
month. It must have been a terrible whole month for an impotent Pandu. He had now two
gorgeous wives, each as beautiful as a goddess, and yet there was nothing he could do in
their beds since he was impotent. A bitter, frustrated, furious Pandu gathers his army and

leaves on a world conquest. He had failed to prove his manhood in his bed, but he had to
prove it somewhere, and now he could prove it in the battlefield. Pandu was savage in the
battlefield, as we should expect him to be, the Mahabharata tells us. He did not just win
battles, but burnt his rivals to ashes. He then came back victorious bringing with him
enormous wealth.
Describing this, the Mahabharata uses a very unusual expression to describe the
triumphant Pandu on his return to Hastinapura: punar-mudita-vahanah. On this return
journey to Hastinapura, even his vehicles were happy once again. That is to say Pandu
was once again happy and even his vehicles, his horses, his elephants all reflected his
happiness. The words once again are significant: they speak of previous unhappiness. It
was not a happy Pandu that had left on the conquest, but an unhappy one. Unhappy
because he had failed to prove himself a man in his chamber. Happy because he had now
proved himself a man in the battlefield. The bitterness, the frustration, the fury in him has
been exhausted at least for the time being.
What happened next is also explained by the fact that he was impotent from the
beginning. Pandu does not add the conquered wealth to the treasury of the Kuru-Bharatas,
as we would expect him to have done. Instead he distributes it all among Bheeshma,
Satyavati, Ambika, Ambalika, Vidura, his friends and so on. It is as though he wanted
them all to see the amount of wealth he had won, the glory he had attained and certify
how much of a man he was. The wealth is so much that we are told Dhritarashtra later
performed a hundred ashwamedha sacrifices with it.
Now he does one of the strangest things ever. Following the urging of his wives, he
decides to leave the kingdom and go to the jungle with them, to live his life there engaged
in hunting! Pandu is the ruler of Hastinapura, the long-awaited ruler, he has just taken
over the reigns of the kingdom in his hands, he has proved himself to be competent as a
king by successfully wages battles in a conquest of the directions, and immediately after
that he decides to leave the kingdom behind and go and live in the jungle with his wives.
And there is no motivation like what Ashoka later felt post the Kalinga war.
His mother, among others, who, to bring him into this world so that the Kuru line would
not come to an end and will have a legitimate ruler, had to submit herself to the
abomination of a niyoga which she found repulsive and shrank away from with all her
being, must have been shocked by Pandus decision.
Why did Pandu do something like that? A strong possibility that comes to mind is that he
did not want Bheeshma to bring him yet another wife. He had no answer to the accusing
glances of his mother and grandmother, and the man who had brought him up like a son
his uncle Bheeshma. Maybe others too questioned him, some in words and some by other
means, enquiring when the baby princes were coming. As it happens in every family. He
has no answer to them. He must have discussed this with his wives, from whom he could
not have hidden the facts of the matter. They in their wisdom and understanding advised
him to leave everything and go to the jungle and live with them there. No one would
torment him there.

~*~
If Pandu had been impotent all along, then it is not because of the curse of the sage that he
was forced to have his children begotten by other men. Is the story of the curse by the
sage then not real? Did nothing like that ever take place? Is the story an attempt to cover
up Pandus impotence from the beginning, to find an acceptable reason for it?
Well, the entire story need not be a lie. But it looks like part of it definitely is a lie: the
part that says that it is the curse of the sage who had changed himself into a deer that
made it impossible for Pandu to have sexual relations with his wives. That part may be a
later addition to the story of what Pandu actually did to the deer couple. What could have
happened is that Pandu saw a male and a female deer in coitus in the jungle and shot them
dead. Just that.
But then why would, as we asked earlier, a cultured man like Pandu, a scion of the noble
Bharata dynasty, do such a thing as that?
A possible answer is: for the same reasons that turned him impotent.
There is every reason to believe that Pandus impotence was psychological. Pandu was
physically fit. He was a mighty warrior who was a terror to his enemies. Except for the
paleness of his skin, there is no mention of any physical deficiency in him. And his death
comes while engaged in an act of sex with his wife. All these point at his impotence
having been psychological and not physical.
Are there then psychological reasons that could have caused impotence in Pandu?
Literature on the psychopathology of impotence tells us that while impotence may have
physical causes in males over forty, it is almost always of psychological origin in males
under forty; that psychopathological impotence may be associated with a very restrictive
upbringing concerning sex, negative attitudes toward sex, negative or traumatic sexual
experiences and other deep-seated causal factors such as unconscious feelings of hostility,
fear, inadequacy, or guilt.
Could Pandus impotence have risen from any of these sources? To answer that question
we will have to look into Pandus past particularly into his early years as a child when
he was most impressionable and into the years when he was an adolescent and his
sexuality was blossoming. Unfortunately the Mahabharata gives us no details of these
years and for that reason all that we can do is conjuncture about them.
As we all know, Pandu was the son born to Vyasa and Ambalika through the custom
of niyoga. His mother had become a widow at the death of Prince Vichitra. When he met
with his early death due, according to the epic, to overindulgence in sex with his two
wives, Ambika and Ambalika, he had produced no offspring. The illustrious line of the
Kuru-Bharatas was now without a man qualified to sit on the throne on which such
legendary kings as Manu, Puroorava, Nahusha, Yayati, Dushyanta, Bharata, Hastin,
Ajameedha, Kuru, and Shantanu had sat, without a head to wear their proud crown.

Devavrata Bheeshma was there, of course, but he had taken the vow not to sit on the
throne though he would stand by it. The Kurus were desperately in need of a prince.
It was Bheeshma whom Satyavati approached first she must have felt now that her
fathers greed had come to nought and Bheeshmas vows had been rendered meaningless
by mighty time, he should take the reigns of the kingdom into his own hands to which
they originally belonged. Bheeshma refused vows were vows and he would not break
them. Perhaps it was the bitterness in him speaking, perhaps this is what had become of
him because of that bitterness or maybe he had become really Bheeshma the aura
around his vows had imprisoned him in its awesome glare. Whatever the reason,
Bheeshma decided his vow and himself were greater than the desperate need of the KuruBharata empire and refused both to marry and beget children and to perform niyoga in
Vichitraveeryas fields and produce offspring. Eventually Vyasa had to be called in and
this other half-brother of Vichitra had to do the niyoga in spite of his reluctance.
The niyoga was not a happy incident for Pandus mother Ambalika just as it was not for
her sister Ambika, Dhritarashtras mother, either. In spite of knowing it would be Vyasa
who would be performing the niyoga, when the sage entered her room and approached
her bed, Ambalika was horrified and turned pale. The act of conceiving Pandu was an act
of indescribable horror and repugnance to his mother. So great was the repugnance and
horror the sisters felt that they refused to undergo the torture a second time and when
forced, sent a maid in their place. And after the conception and giving birth to Pandu,
Ambalika, like her sister after conceiving and giving birth to Dhritarashtra, withdrew into
a shell from which she never came out.
It is unlikely that Pandu grew up without hearing palace rumors about his birth. In a place
packed with maids and slaves as the palace of Hastinapura was, it is impossible that this
did not happen to a child who had no father and was totally neglected by his mother. It
should not surprise us if he had heard, or at least overheard, what happened in some
graphic details. The incident involves niyoga, it involves sex between a young widowed
princess and a sage and such stuff is ideal for gossip. How a young sensitive mind would
react to such talk he hears is impossible to predict and Pandu was definitely a very
sensitive child and later a very sensitive man. In Pandus case it appears that the result
was an unconscious horror of sex, for what he heard was about his own mother. The
images that the gossip he heard generated must have been played repeatedly over and
over again in his mind, rendering him eventually psychologically impotent. It is not
impossible that every time he approached one of his wives, the image of his mother, of
the horrible experience she was subjected to, images of his mothers horror and aversion
at the moment of his conception, all rushed into his mind.
From the picture of him that the Mahabharata presents to us, Pandu appears to have been
a man capable of great love, at least to begin with. As a child he must have loved his
mother deeply, as is shown by his act of offering at her feet part of the wealth he had
brought from the conquest. Listening to all those stories from palace gossip, stories that
could have been very confusing to a child, he must have felt like countless other children
that sex was something horrid that men did to women. It wouldnt be surprising if he had

felt he too had a share in subjecting his mother to that horrid act partly because he was a
male and partook of the crime of all males towards women and partly because his mother
had to undergo it all for his sake, so that he could be born. The result would have been
guilt, powerful guilt.
I wonder what Bheeshmas effect on the child and adolescent Pandu could have been with
regard to his sexual development. The Mahabharata tells us that it was Bheeshma who
mostly brought him up. Here was a man who had become a legend in his own lifetime for
more than anything else because he had denied sex to himself. The whole world looked
up at him with awe. He had said no to women once and then, even when begged to break
his vow, stuck to his vow. The Mahabharata does not tell us what his relations with
Satyavati were when Shantanu saw her and fell hopelessly in love with her, Devavrata
had already been officially appointed the crown prince and what she had done was to
snatch away from his head that crown of yuvaraja.
The Mahabharata does not tell us if he hated her for this, if he hated all women because of
this. It is possible that he did, considering how adamantly he stuck to his vow of having
nothing to do with women, though he was always perfectly gentlemanly and chivalrous in
his behavior towards them. Perhaps his forcing Gandhari to marry his blind nephew
Dhritarashtra and his capturing by force and bringing to Hastinapura the three Kashi
princesses from their swayamvara hall speak of his contempt for women, though these
actions were not very rare in his days. The vow that he would never fight a woman too
speaks of his dislike and contempt for women.
Also relevant to our discussion is Bheeshmas attitude towards women in general as
expressed in a chapter in the Anushasana Parva [Ch 38], though it is possible that this
discussion does not really represent Bheeshmas views on women and is a philosophical
discussion added later to the epic in his name. At the opening of this chapter, Yudhishthira
tells Bheeshma that women are the root of all evil and it has been said that they are meanminded. He then asks Bheeshma to tell him about the nature of women. In answer,
Bheeshma quotes the answer the Apsara Panchachooda had given Narada who had asked
her the same question, approving of her words. What follows is a downright
condemnation of women. We are told that even pretty women with husbands, born in
noble families, do not remain within bounds. Once they get an opportunity to meet
outsiders, they do not bother even for husbands who are famous, rich and endowed with
unparalleled handsomeness, even when these husbands do everything to please them.
Women can give themselves to the greatest sinners, without feeling any shame about it.
There is no man woman wouldnt give themselves to his age, his other conditions,
nothing matters to them; all that is needed is that he be a male. He may be a deformed
dwarf, it does not matter; he may be nauseatingly repulsive, that does not matter. All that
matters to women is that he is male. And if men are not available to satisfy their lust,
women will have no hesitation to seek sexual pleasure from other women. For, women
are just never satiated sexually; with them it is as fire is never satiated with wood, the
ocean is never satiated with rivers, death by consuming mortals.

Panchachooda has words to say about the nature of women which I am reluctant to write
here so blunt and crude is she in her description of the evil that women are. Put death,
fierce storms, the evil world underground, massive, all consuming conflagrations, the
sharp edges of weapons, poison, fierce snakes, weigh all these against just woman on the
other side and woman would be no less than all these terrors put together, says
Panchachooda in words that Bheeshma approves of and quotes to Yudhishthira answering
his question.
Years of almost single-handed upbringing by Bheeshma who held such views on women,
by the man from whom a fishermaid had snatched away the throne of the crown prince of
an empire that was already his because his father in his old age had contemptuously fallen
in love with her, the man who for the sake of his fathers lust for her had to take the
terrible vow of life-long continence, the man who had the very vicious and distasteful
experience with Amba that eventually forced him to engage his own guru in a fierce
battle, couldnt have but left its marks on the tender soul of the growing child Pandu.
And if that is not enough, consider the two references to his lineage Pandu makes
immediately after killing the deer in coitus and feeling guilty about it: He is the son of
the kamatma Vichitraveerya, the prince whose soul itself was lust, born to him in his
kshetra, field, begotten by Vyasa.
What is the legacy of Vichitraveerya that Pandu considers himself an heir to? Lust. Lust
that brought death. Lust in which Eros and Thanatos met. The adolescent Vichitra was so
enamored by the two beautiful princesses whom his half-brother had brought for him that
he spent his days and nights in a single passion making love to them. He became a
victim to the dreaded disease rajayakshma and no doctor could pull him back from the
jaws of death. Vichitra also brought with him the legacy of an old emperors lust for a
young maid Shantanus lust for the fishermaid Satyavati. And Satyavati herself is a
product of lust. King Uparichara had gone to the jungle on a hunting trip rejecting his
wifes invitation to him to go to bed with her. She had made her desire known to him
through a message she had sent him informing him she had just had her ritual bath after
her monthly periods and was eagerly waiting for him in their bedchamber. In the jungle
the king was unable to control his lust all around him nature stood bathed in all her
estrous glory, the mating calls of birds filled the air around him thick with the scent of
passion. Satyavati was the child born to that king who had lost control over himself, born
to an apsara living as a fish in the Yamuna according to the Mahabharata in all
probability a fishergirl who satisfied the kings lust of the moment.
This is a legacy of lust straight and unmixed with anything else. The other lineage he
speaks of is perhaps more confusing. Vichitras biological father is Vyasa born of sage
Parasharas lust for the fish-smelling Kali-Satyavati, lust that was unwilling to wait even
so long as it takes for Kali and the sage to cross the river. Their union took place in the
boat itself, right in the middle of the river. Vyasa brings in his blood the irrepressible lust
of Parashara and of Uparichara Vasu. But at the same time, Vyasa is an ascetic too a
man who had his sexuality under control, though he too had slipped once, thus begetting
his son Shuka. Pandus Vyasa lineage is thus both of lust and asceticism.

A very restrictive upbringing concerning sex, negative attitudes toward sex, negative or
traumatic sexual experiences, though at second-hand, other deep-seated factors such as
unconscious feelings of hostility, fear, and guilt Pandu seems to have had his share of
all these elements that cause psychopathological impotence and a rich share of them at
that.
~*~
In the Mahabharata, and in fewer details in the Ramayana, we have the story of
Kalmashapada. Kalmashapada was an ancestor of Rama who had received a curse from
his guru Vasishtha which transformed him into a Rakshasa. While living his accursed life
as a Rakshasa, Kalmashapada meets a Brahman youth and his young wife in a forest. The
couple were in the jungle making love and they had not yet completed their act when they
saw the Rakshasa and ran away. Kalmashapada caught the brahmana, and the brahmani
begged him not to eat him up. She told him of how she was in her ritu, how desperate
they were for a child, how they hadnt finished their mating act and therefore he should
spare her husband. Kalmashapada did not heed her and went ahead and ate up the
Brahmin youth. Angirasi, the brahmani, wept bitter tears and so deep was her pain that
as each drop of her tears fell on the ground, it became a blazing fire and burnt up the
place.
The brahmani then cursed Kalmashapada. He had interrupted her and her husband
making love and killed her husband. He would not be able to make love to his wife any
more if he ever made love to his wife during her ritu, the period sanctioned for
lovemaking, he would die. Almost the identical curse as Pandu received and for almost
identical reasons. It is this curse that made it impossible for Kalmashapada to have sex
with his wife Madayanti and forced him to offer her to his guru Vasishtha forniyoga.
Like Kalmashapada, Pandu too carried a curse on him. His impotence was the result of
that curse but that curse was not given by Kindama. Pandu was cursed long before he
killed the deer. His curse was a result of his very restrictive upbringing concerning sex,
his negative attitudes toward sex, the traumatic sexual experience of his mother the
trauma of which he had internalized, unconscious feelings of sexual hostility, fear, guilt.
Do insights from psychology or psychopathology explain why Pandu killed the deer
engaged in coitus? They do. Annals of criminology are full of crimes committed by men
who have negative attitudes towards sex, have deep unconscious feelings of sexual
hostility and guilt, have been forced to suppress or repress sex for one reason or other,
have an unsatisfactory sexual life, whose natural sexual longings have remained
unfulfilled. Lust killing, sex murder these are terms used for acts like what Pandu did,
though crime literature mostly talks about acts committed against humans.
Perhaps these insights would also explain his fury in the battlefields that made Pandu
reduce his enemies to ashes, though this could be a very natural thing to do for a
kshatriya and a prince in those days. But it is a fact that Pandu derived pleasure from
killing he devoted in entire life after the world conquest to hunting, which is something
few other kings have done, if any.

~*~
Why did Pandu choose Arjunas birthday to take Madri into the quietude of the jungle and
to make love to her there, meeting his death in the process? Why did he choose the
precise moment when priests were chanting sacred incantations invoking divine blessings
on Arjuna, the precise moment when brahmanas were being served a feast? Was Arjunas
birthday no occasion for celebration for Pandu? Was he registering his protest against the
celebration, and against Arjuna and Kunti, by walking away from the feast of which he
was the host and hence shouldnt have left? If so, what was he protesting against? The
questions we had asked earlier.
For those who are not fully conversant with the Mahabharata, the epic describes it was
the uttara phalguna day on which Arjuna had completed fourteen years, the Brahmins
were chanting mantras and a feast was being offered celebrating the birthday when Pandu
took the beautiful Madri away into the jungle and there made love to her. When he should
have been with his family, when he as the host had an important role to play and should
have been receiving the Brahmins and joining them in the rituals and the feast, Pandu
quietly slipped out of the place taking his younger wife with him. Kunti failed to notice
this because she was busy serving the meals to the brahmanas.
The Indian tradition forbade sex during the daytime.
The epic tells us he did so because he was overpowered by sex kamamohita. He
certainly could have been. But there is also another side to it the day and time he chose
speaks of other possibilities. He must have been frustrated. It is possible that in spite of
his urging Kunti and later Madri to give him sons through niyoga, he really hated
the niyogas and felt little affection for them. The niyogas must definitely have been
humiliating for him, as being forced to offer his wife to other men for begetting children
would be to any man. Yet he did it for the sake of his afterworlds, so that his ancestors did
not blame him of not paying back the debt to the manes, pitr-rna, and maybe perhaps
because the eldest of them could inherit the throne. But it is also possible that more than
his desire for children it was his wives desire for them that impelled him, though the
Mahabharata does not expressly say so. Womens longing for children is usually longer
than mens for while for man children are a need, for women it is the fulfillment of their
being women. It is possible that in spite of what the epic tells us and contrary to what we
are told by it, it was Kunti who was desperate for children rather than Pandu and it was
she who persuaded him to allow her to have children by other men, perhaps Yudhishthira
by Vidura, her devar (brother-in-law), traditionally the first choice in case her husband
failed to give her a child, and subsequently by two other men. Pandu could have resented
this deeply, though he could not say no to the strong-willed Kunti, and later to Madri
when she sought permission to walk on the path shown by Kunti.
That his children are not his children is not something that many men would be able to
tolerate. So Pandu rejects the birthday celebrations, rejects the birthday child, rejects the
mother of the birthday child, and goes to the jungle taking his softer other wife to the
jungle with him exactly when Brahmins are being served at home. And on that day, for

the first time in his life, in the passion given by his bitterness and loneliness, his
frustration and fury, he succeeds in making love to her there, surrounded by nature in
estrus once again. His success must have surprised even him, filled him with unspeakable
thrill, uncontrollable rapture. One moment he is deep in the abysses of bitterness and fury,
and the next he is in the heavenly heights of the thrill of his first successful lovemaking.
From those heights to which he had soared for the first time in his life, he plunges straight
into his death.
There was years of bitterness in him. Suppressed day after day, week after week, month
after month, year after year, until Arjuna has completed fourteen years. And then, as the
birthday celebration is going on, violence possesses him, and the explosion takes place.
Why Arjunas birthday? Why not the birthday of Bheema or Yudhishthira, if not of
Nakula and Sahadeva since Pandu seems to have had a softer corner in his heart for
Madri? To answer that question we will have to know who Arjunas father was his
human father.
Pandu is one of the most tragic figures in Indian literature. His is the tale of innocence
punished for the crimes of others. He carries a curse with him the burden of the
knowledge of the story of his birth, of his lineage, which makes his life hell. Pandus life
eloquently portrays how our life is not all in our hands, how so many factors beyond our
control give it direction, something we are loath to admit today. Our past has a strong say
in making us what we are, in making our life what it is and that past includes our
parents past too. We carry on our shoulders the burden, and the honor, of their actions.
Just as our children will do those of ours.
In the spiritual interpretation of the Mahabharata, Vyasas four sons are embodiments of
the four purusharthas goals of human life. Shuka is the embodiment of the
paramapurushartha, of moksha, liberation; Vidura of dharma, righteousness; and
Dhritarashtra of artha, wealth and possessiveness. Pandu, this interpretation tells us, is the
embodiment of kama, desire. He is lust embodied.
Impotent kama, perhaps.
Or maybe perhaps Vyasa wants to tell us that kama is always impotent in the ultimate
analysis, in spite of the fact all creation springs from it.
Impotent kama, insatiable kama. Kama that can never give us ultimate contentment.
Na jAtu kAmah kAmAnAm upabhogena shAmyate,
havishA krishnavartmeva bhooya evAbhivardhate.
Never indeed is kama satiated by the enjoyment of desired objects; instead, like fire when
offerings are made into it, it keeps flaring up.
Until impotent desire consumes the desirer himself.

18-Jun-2006 More by : Satya Chaitanya - See more at: http://www.boloji.com/index.cfm?

md=Content&sd=Articles&ArticleID=1726#sthash.WlollVEL.dpuf

This whole story is written by a dumb guy who has no knowledge about the
glorious past of India. Now pay attention to these points here 1. Gandhari had 100 sons and a daughter. No matter what but a woman
can't physically give birth to 100 children in her lifetime. And age
difference between 100 brothers was just a few hours. This fact clearly
shows that in ancient times people knew the technology of Test Tube
babies. in Mahabharata it's clearly mentioned that 100 children were born
in pots in a cave by the help of Vyasa. Therefore niyoga had nothing to do
with real sex. It was an act of taking dna from woman and make a test tube
baby.
2. Gandhari took a vow to blindfold herself for whole life. Now this was not
forced on her, infact she took this vow by her own will because she wanted
to live like her husband. Now living blindfolded is a very difficult thing to do
but she did it. it shows that in ancient times people were very kind, loyal
and honest. They used to stick to their words unlike nowadays where
people promise only to break it. So this proves that Bheeshma didn't break
his vow not because of he hated women or some other stupid reason.
bheeshma didn't break his vow because that was a trend those days to
stick to their words.
3. As per Mahabharata, Pandu was a very loving and caring human with no
psychological issues whatsoever. He was spending quality time with her
wives in a forest when his second wife Madri saw a beautiful dear and
forced Pandu to kill him so that she can keep the deer's skin as her mat.
Now it's said that everyone gives in when pressurised by children, woman
or a King. So pandu indeed had to go to kill the dear. The sage was in the
form of dear trying to have sex "Role Play" when got shot cursed the
Pandu. in ancient times people had spiritual powers to curse or give boons
to people. Now the problem with people is that they deny everything which
they don't know anything about. just like some people tried to kill the
scientist who proved that the earth was round and not flat. Some people
discouraged Wright brothers when they claimed that they can make a
machine which will fly. Similarly the dumb author of this story is denying

the fact that there is indeed another science called spiritual science which
people have forgotten about and which needs to be re-explored.
Stop demeaning the ancient India and accept the fact that ancient indian
people indeed were very advanced and they were smart too so they used
to hand over this knowledge only to those with good character and moral
values to avoid misuse of that knowledge. they didn't hand over their
sacred knowledge to dumb assholes like nowadays every other country has
atom bombs and machine guns and we see so many wars.
Stop thinking from your ass and open your narrow brain and only then you
will understand the history. These literature were not legendary stories
only, it's real history. Dwarika city of Shri Krishna has already been found
under the sea near gujrat. Scientists have also recovered some gold coins
from the ruins of drowned city under ocean with printed Peacock feathers
on those coins so that's also proved that the king of that city indeed loved
peacock feathers. Pretty soon more evidences will also be recovered. - See
more at: http://www.boloji.com/index.cfm?
md=Content&sd=Articles&ArticleID=1726#sthash.WlollVEL.dpuf

Krishna:
A Study in Transformational Leadership by Satya Chaitanya

There is an old story about a sage who was sitting serenely under a tree in the jungle, lost
in the immense beauty of the world around him. The trees around him, the vines climbing
on them, the birds perched on the trees and vines, the animals grazing gently among them
all, the placid lake some distance away, the remote mountains, all seemed to be bathed in
a stillness that took the breath away. The soft wind that blew did not in any way destroy
the serenity of the jungle; on the
contrary, it added another dimension
to it.
And then suddenly, in a moment of
explosive violence, the divine
tranquility was shattered into a
million shards by the terrified, shrill
cries of animals that began fleeing
in all directions and the cacophony
of birds that left their perches and

took off into the skies shrieking. A thousand monkeys seemed to be screeching all at
once, filling the jungle with their panic.
The sage opened his eyes wide in alarm. What he saw before anything else was a
beautiful stag, a magnificent creature that seemed to embody all the beauty of the jungle,
all the bounty and opulence of nature, running towards him like a bolt of lightning and
then disappearing in the other direction the next instant, raising a cloud of dust in its
wake. In that one split second, the sage saw in the terrified eyes of the animal the pure
dread of death that was chasing him. The muscles of the splendid creature of the wild
rippled and quivered as much from exertion as from terror.
Then came the hunter, in a royal chariot resplendent in gold the king, with his bow
stretched to the full, an arrow ready to leave it and pierce the target with savage power. At
a sharp instruction from him, the driver pulled the reins and brought the chariot to a
screeching halt before the sage. The king looked around and not seeing the stag
anywhere, jumped down from his vehicle and approached the sage. He saluted the sage
hurriedly and enquired of him, his voice still aquiver from the excitement of the hunt,
Master, did you see a deer fleeing by?
The sage had two alternatives before him now. He could tell the truth, which he was
bound to say by his oaths, and save his integrity. That would mean death to the deer and a
moment of exhilaration from the kill to the king. Or he could tell a lie, and save the life of
the deer. Which could mean failing his vows, compromising, committing a sin. Satyena
vitata sukrtasya pantha say the Upanishads. The path of spirituality is paved with truth
take one step away from truth, and you will be erring from your path, remembered the
sage.
However, says the ancient wisdom tale, the sage did not take much time to decide his
course. Without blinking his eyes, he looked at the king and lied. No, he hadnt seen
any deer, he said.
No doubt the sage in this story did commit the sin of lying, but no one would say that the
sages action was immoral. What he had done when he lied was to choose a higher value,
rise to a level of higher morality. In a situation where he had to make a choice between
two values, rather than following the path of conventional morality, he chose higher
morality.
The famous story about Jesus and the adulteress presents to us a similar situation of value
conflict, in which a man decides to choose the path of higher morality. When the
adulteress was brought before him and Jesus was asked to judge her and pronounce her
punishment, he had the choice of taking the easy course and pronouncing her guilty,
which she was according to the law of the day in her society, a law Jesus was thoroughly
familiar with, and which would allow the men who had brought her to him to stone her to
death. In all likelihood Jesus knew that this was a trap set for him if he forgave her, he
would be breaking the law of the Pharisees, and if he condemned her, he would be
practicing against his own teaching of forgiveness and love. Yet he decided to take the

risk and chose the path of higher morality when he said, he that is without sin among
you, let him first cast a stone at her. It is said that Jesus sealed his own death warrant by
this statement for what he had done was expose the hypocrisy of the men who was
trying to trap him to the glare of the day.
Here again, like the sage in the earlier story, what Jesus had done was to forsake
conventional morality and rise to the level of higher morality.
Great leaders are transformational in nature. Forsaking conventional morality in order to
rise up to the level of higher morality is one of the qualities of a transformational leader.
Speaking of transformational leadership, leadership that transforms the leader and his
followers from the inside out and raises them into higher moral planes, develops a sense
of collective identity in them, produces superior motivation and commitment to goals, and
creates greater levels of performance and yields more intense performance satisfaction, an
expert says:
Transformational leaders deal with issues from a higher moral plane.
~*~
The Mahabharata, that majestic epic of India that supplies us with an endless amount of
material for leadership study, provides us with a complete contrast in leadership ethos
through two of its greatest men Bheeshma and Krishna.
Young Devavrata Bheeshma in Vyasas immortal epic comes across to us as a youth with
immense leadership potentials. Taken away by his mother in his infancy and presented
back to his father Emperor Shantanu in his early youth, it is as a brilliant young man that
we see this scion of the Bharatas first. He impresses us as someone who has the
personality, the competencies and the values needed to become one of the greatest
emperors this land has seen, someone no less than his legendary ancestors like Nahusha,
Yayati and Bharata.
His first encounter with his father after all that time is fascinating. Years have passed
since Ganga disappeared taking the infant Devavrata with her. Chasing a wild animal that
he had wounded, one day Shantanu reaches the banks of the Ganga. He sees that there is
very little water in the river on that day, which surprises him because the Ganga there was
always a mighty torrent. Puzzled, he walks upstream seeking the reason for this and
comes across an adolescent boy practicing archery with his arrows endowed with magical
powers, who had stopped the current of the river with them. Shantanu, surprised by the
superhuman feat, looks in wonder at the youth who is lustrous like the lord of the gods.
However, before he has a chance to speak to him, the boy vanishes from his sight. Soon
however, he reappears with his mother and Ganga introduces their son to Shantanu.
Devavrata has by now mastered all weapons of the day, ordinary as well as those
endowed with magical powers. He is mighty in strength, of tireless energy and
determination, fearless, and a superb master of the chariot. He has learnt all the Vedas
from Vasishtha himself, and such is his valour that even the powerful gods and the

formidable Asuras respect him. He has studied thoroughly, along with all its branches and
sub-branches, the laws of Brihaspati as well as the science of niti as taught by Acharya
Shukra. His master in archery was none other than the redoubtable Parashurama himself.
Besides, he is a great scholar of political science, administrative science and the science
of economics.
Shantanu anoints Devavrata as the crown prince and his people are delighted with their
future ruler. They know they have a great emperor waiting to take over at the death of
Shantanu whom they loved and revered dearly.
Four years pass and then tragedy strikes Devavrata, metamorphosing this wonderful
youth into Bheeshma the terrible.
Shantanu was in a jungle on the banks of the Yamuna when it all began. After Ganga left
him, he had lived for years without a woman in his bed. As he was roaming beside the
river, he was suddenly inebriated by a heavenly fragrance. Searching for the source of the
fragrance, he comes across a very young, dark girl, a maid of the fisher-folk,
intoxicatingly beautiful, and is bewildered by the fact that the heady scent that had
ensorcelled him had come from her. Enticed by her beauty and scent, charmed by her
youth, his sexuality that he had suppressed all those years suddenly awakened, desperate
with an uncontainable need for her, he approaches her and asks her who she is. Learning
from her she is Kali Satyavati, daughter of the chief of the Dashas, fishermen who lived
on the banks of the Yamuna, and is engaged in ferrying people across the Yamuna,
Shantanu approaches her father and asks him to give her to him. The man tells the
emperor that it has been his desire to give his beautiful daughter in marriage to someone
who deserves her. It would be a pleasure to give his daughter to the emperor, of course,
but he requires an oath from the emperor. Asked what the oath is, the Dasha chief tells
Shantanu that he should vow that the son born to her should be installed as the crown
prince in Hastinapura and only if the emperor vowed to do so would he give his daughter
to him in marriage.
Shantanu, of course, could make no such vow. In spite of all his temptations, the idea of
disinheriting his highly competent son who had been installed as crown prince four years
ago and who is the heartthrob of the entire populace, and giving that position to a son who
would be born to this fishergirl was unthinkable to him. However, the old emperor is
disappointed greatly at not getting the girl and the loss breaks his heart. He loses all
interest in life and withdraws from his royal duties from that day and spends his time in
his apartments, his fiery need for the girl sending him into deliriums. The young
Devavrata discovers the truth, goes to the chief of the Dashas along with several ministers
and nobles and gives him the promise he wanted: he solemnly gives up all claims on the
throne of the Bharatas through an oath.
But that is not enough for the Dasha chief. Devavrata might give up his right to the throne
of the Bharatas but what would happen when he gets married and has children of his
own? Wouldnt they lay a claim on the throne? Hearing this Devavrata takes the vow that
was unthinkable for a warrior prince in his days: he shall never marry, he shall never have

sex, he shall remain an oordhvareta all his life a man whose seeds never left his body,
but travelled inward into himself. Listen, Oh Dasharaja, listen to what I say with these
rulers of men as my witnesses. And listen, you kings, too, he said. I have already given
up my kingdom in your presence. Now listen to my oath about having children, too. I
swear to you, Oh Dasha, from today mine shall be a life of brahmacharya. I shall forever
remain sonless and yet the immortal worlds attained after death only by those who have
sons shall be mine. Never in my life have I spoken a word of untruth and by that truth of
mine I swear: I shall not beget a child to the last day of my life. I give up the kingdom
forever, and forever I give up sex. I shall live to my last breath a life of the oordhvareta. I
swear.
Those vows give Devavrata the name Bheeshma.
However, unknown to Bheeshma, those vows take all desire for life away from him
forever. For the Devavrata that we see in the Mahabharata from then on is a very different
Devavrata. He is a man imprisoned by his vow, a man in an iron mask that he has put on
on his own face, like the mask worn by he prisoner in Dumas The Three Musketeers,
though this mask is of a different kind.
For his vows would soon become redundant, would take the hoary royal line of the
Bharatas to the brink of extinction, the need of the hour would be for him to break his
vows and he would be asked to do so by the very woman for whose sake he had taken
those vows. And he would refuse refuse in words that leave nothing uncertain, in words
that show with absolute clarity the deep-rooted hatred in his heart, the frustrated fury he
had been nourishing in the depths of his being, the pains and agonies he had gone through
from the day he took his vows.
Shantanu gets two sons by Satyavati. Soon after his death, Chitrangada, the elder of them,
dies in a battle at a young age. Bheeshma snatches away from the swayamvara hall, from
the ceremony in which a princess chooses her husband on her own free will from among
the assembled princes, three princesses of Kashi as brides for the other while he is still
too young to marry. One of the princesses, Amba, refuses to marry him; the other two
accede to Bheeshmas demand and marry Prince Vichitraveerya. However, such is the
young princes passion for his two young, beautiful wives that he spends all his time in
their company and soon dies of diseases arising from overindulgence in sex with them.
Though the epic does not tell us anything about this, it is possible that Bheeshma did
nothing to stop such overindulgence on the part of the young prince. Did the man who
had taken the vow of celibacy and whose throne had been snatched away from him hold
deep in his heart a malevolence that he himself did not know existed towards this youth
who was now sitting where he should have been sitting? Did he turn a blind eye towards
his adolescent half-brother who was overindulging in pleasures that were denied to him
by a cruel fate, just as he had done nothing to stop his elder brother from death in battle?
While we can never be sure of these, it is possible that he did.

While it is heartless to accuse such a noble prince as Bheeshma of this, common

psychology tells us it is possible that he deeply resented this unknown young girl who had
walked into his old fathers life from nowhere and shattered his beautiful world. For, it is
legitimate that every young prince dreams of greatness and Bheeshma certainly could
have had dreams of greatness, which were forever destroyed by her. Did Bheeshma who
resented her deep within his heart allow her dreams, or her fathers dreams, of her
progeny becoming the rulers of the Bharata empire come to nought through his
indifference and inactivity, or even actively encourage it? Subtle are the ways of the
human mind and devious the paths it often takes to achieve its goals.
The harshness in Bheeshmas words as he rejects Satyavatis requests to him to break his
vows and do what the situation demands for her sake, for the sake of her family, and for
the sake of his own sake and the sake of the Bharatas speaks volumes about this.
Finding the Bharata dynasty of which she is now the queen in deep crisis at the death of
both her sons, Satyavati, the woman for whose sake Bheeshma had taken those vows,
repeatedly requests him to break his vows and perform niyoga in the wives of his stepbrother and to sit on the throne of Hastinapura. She also asks him to marry and beget
children. She tells him again and again these are the right things to do under the
circumstances, these are the demands of the hour, all his ancestors call for it. She tells him
the pinda, the keerti and santana the welfare of the dead ancestors, the glory of the
dynastic line and offspring that will continue the line of the Bharatas, all depend on him
and if he does not marry and beget children, or does not produce offspring in the wives of
Vichitraveerya, they will all be destroyed.
The two queens of your brother, daughters of the king of Kashi, Oh Bharata, are both
richly endowed with beauty and youth and they both crave for children. I ask you to
follow the ancient custom of niyoga that your forefathers have followed and beget
children by them for the sake of producing heirs to our family line. This is your dharma
and you must follow it. Install yourself on the throne, rule over the subjects of the
Bharatas, get married as dharma enjoins and save your manes from falling into hell. This
is how Satyavati, by now reduced to begging to him, pleads earnestly, though as queen
she could have commanded him.
Niyoga is an ancient custom practiced in India, particularly in royal families, whereby
either a highly respected individual or a brother of a dead man produced children in his
widow. This was not a very respected custom at the time of the Mahabharata, it was
criticised, the children born of such union were often subjected to ridicule, and women
generally hated being subjected to it; and yet it was a time-honoured custom, the
scriptures sanctioned it, and men of great honour and integrity had taken recourse to it in
the past when no other option was open to them.
Bheeshma refuses.
The words he chooses to express his feelings in are extremely significant.
No doubt, Mother, he says, what you have spoken of is supreme dharma [paro

dharmah]. But I shall not crown myself as king for the sake of the kingdom, nor shall I
have sex - you know very well my vow about begetting children. Satyavati, you are aware
of the oaths I took in your presence in the form of your bride price remember them.
I shall give up the three worlds, I shall give up the empire of the gods, and if there is
anything greater than these, I shall give up that too. But never shall I give up my truth.
The five elements may give up their nature earth the fragrance it exudes, water the taste
it brings, light the forms it reveals, air the sense of touch and space its capacity for sound.
The sun may give up its splendour, the moon its coolness, Indra, slayer of Vritra, his
valour and the lord of justice, justice itself, but I shall not give up my truth. Let the world
end in dissolution, let everything go up in flames, but I shall not go back on my word.
Immortality holds no temptations for me, nor overlordship of the three worlds.
If Bheeshma proved his character one way earlier when he took the vows, he proves it in
another way now when he refuses to break those vows.
What Bheeshma does here is being true to his oath taken years ago. And keeping ones
promises, not breaking ones vows, to oneself and to others, is a very admirable quality in
any one. Societies, nations, organizations and cultures are sustained by such individuals.
This is one of the qualities that generate trust in individuals. And leaders of men
particularly should be able to command such trust by their integrity. In an organization, in
a society, in a culture where people break their word, distrust sets in soon, and distrust
makes people weary of each other, there will remain no solid ground on which people can
interact with each other, and soon disintegration follows. Fidelity to the spoken word is at
the very foundation of all group endeavours of the human being, without which none of
the edifices he builds can survive.
And yet there are occasions when this very fidelity to the spoken word threatens the
existence of the group, the good of the community and culture at large. A great leader is
one who shows on such occasions the courage to take upon himself the ill fame that
comes to him from breaking his spoken word in the larger interest of the world and thus
rises to a level of higher morality.
It is this challenge to sacrifice ones ego at the altar of the welfare of the larger
community that Bheeshma fails by rejecting all the requests of Satyavati to him. His
words define his attitude unambiguously: let the world go to hell, I shall not break my
word. Let annihilation overtake the world, I do not care, so long as the world does not
accuse me of breaking my word.
To Bheeshma here, he becomes more important than the whole world. He is moral, in the
sense that he keeps his vow, but his morality is of the lower kind, the morality of the
egotistic, morality of the selfish, ordinary morality, conventional morality.
Continued to Bheeshma the Terrible

31-Dec-2006 More by : Satya Chaitanya - See more at: http://www.boloji.com/index.cfm?

md=Content&sd=Articles&ArticleID=10860#sthash.x2RKTztf.dpuf

Yuganta and the Vidura-Yudhishthira Relationship in the Mahabharata

In her brilliant and path-breaking study of the Mahabharata called Yuganta, Iravati Karve
argues that there is a possibility that Vidura could have been Yudhishthiras father a strong
possibility, though not a certainty. According to her, there is much in the Mahabharata to
suggest this.

Whether Vidura was Yudhishthiras father or not has important implications to the story of
the epic, for, says Karve, As soon as we consider the possibility that these two might be
father and son, the whole Mahabharata takes on a new light. If Dharma [i.e., Yudhishthira] is
the natural son of Vidura and the legal son of Pandu, the whole Mahabharata conflict is no
longer between the sons of Dhritarashtra and Pandu, but among the sons of all three
brothers. The triangular fight does not materialize because Vidura and Pandu have a
common son. To prevent anyones finding out who were the fathers of his children, Pandu
went and lived far away in the Himalayas and apparently the natural fathers of his sons
remained unknown and unacknowledged.

Speaking about Viduras possible fatherhood of Yudhishthira, Karve says: The Mahabharata
does not hide anybodys secrets. It even reveals that Karna is the illegitimate son of Kunti. If
Dharma was born from Kunti and Vidura, then, why should this fact be kept a secret? All the
sons of Kunti are alleged to have been born from gods who were invited at Pandus wish.
The children were born while Pandu was still living and were acknowledged by him as his
sons. According to the legal conceptions of those times, they were Pandus sons and were
thus called Pandavas. Supposing that one of the children had been born from Vidura, would
he in any way have been inferior to the others? Dharmas right to the throne rested on two
things: he was older than Duryodhana, and he was the son of Pandu. His rival Duryodhana
was indeed younger by a few months. But he was the son of Dhritarashtra, a prince of the
royal house, and Gandhari, a princess. One wonders if Dharmas claim would have been
considered inferior if he were known to be the son of Vidura, a suta.

Developing her argument further, Karve says, When they were planning to call gods to
father the children, it is very curious that the first god Kunti called was Yamadharma, the
god of death. Vidura was said to be an incarnation of Yamadharma, so we can surmise that
she did not call the god but her husbands brother Vidura. Moreover, as the younger brother
of Pandu, Vidura was, from the point of view of law and dharma, suited to father Pandus
children. The child born from this union with an incarnation of Yamadharma or the god
himself was

Yudhishthira, but because of the serious nature he early displayed he was called Dharma.
Thus, for many reasons, Dharma seems to be the son of Vidura.

According to Karve there are two more incidents which lend support to this argument. She
cites the incidents: One, Viduras yogic merging with Yudhishthira just before his death; and
the other, Vyasas statement in support of Vidura fathering Yudhishthira. She says that the
fact that Kunti had a son by her brother-in-law Vidura was kept secret up to the end of the
war.

O0O

Before taking a deeper look at Karves arguments about the fatherhood of Yudhishthira, one
thing about my own thoughts about the problem. I consider the Mahabharata fictionalized
history, in the sense that at the core of it all are incidents that really happened and people
who really lived, and since it is history, though fictionalized, I do not accept that the god of
Dharma or any other god fathered Yudhishthira. I believe it is perfectly fine for children to
have non-human fathers at a mythical level, but at a realistic level it is not.

Now, while Karves arguments for Vidura being the father of Yudhishthira are on the whole
quite strong, there are some problems with them, a few with regard to details and others
with regard to the arguments themselves. To begin with, Karve says, referring to
Yudhishthira: Dharmas right to the throne rested on two things: he was older than
Duryodhana, and he was [legally] the son of Pandu. Let us see if this is true.

The clearest and conclusive discussion on Yudhishthiras right to the throne appears in the
Udyoga Parva of the epic. Here during a heated scene immediately before the war, in yet
another attempt to make Duryodhana accept the truth, Bhishma tells him:

Andhah karanahneti na vai rj pit tava

Rj tu pndur abhavan mahtm lokavirutah
Sa rj tasya te putrh pitur dydyahrinah
M tta kalaham krsh rjyasyrdham pradyatm

Since your father was blind, he could not become king, being disqualified because of that.
It was the noble Pandu, renowned everywhere, who became king. Since he was king and the
Pandavas are his children, they are the heirs to his property. Dont quarrel, son, and give [at
least] half the kingdom to them.

There is one single reason given here for the Pandavas claim to the throne: that they are
the sons of Pandu and Pandu was the king. Unlike what Karve says, that Yudhishthira was
older than Duryodhana is not an issue at all.

On this occasion, Gandhari, who too was present during the discussion, adds this clear
statement supporting what Bhishma says:

Rjyam tu pndor idam apradhrshyam;

tasydya putrh prabhavanti nnye.
Rjyam tad etan nikhilam pndavnm;
paitmaham putrapautrnugmi.

This powerful kingdom, indeed, belonged to Pandu. And after him it belongs to his children,
and to no one else. The entire kingdom belongs to the Pandavas, for, the tradition is that the
kingdom comes down from the father to the son and then to his son.

Here too a single reason is given for the claim of the Pandavas over the kingdom that they
are the children of Pandu and Pandu was the king. The kingdom passes down from the
father to the son. That Yudhishthira was older than Duryodhana is not an issue at all.

If these statements by Bhishma and Gandhari are not enough, here is what Dhritarashtra
himself says on the issue on this occasion. Old Dhritarashtra point blank tells his son that he
has no right to the kingdom. The kingdom belonged to Pandu, since he, Dhritarashtra, was
disqualified by his blindness, ever since Pandus death, it has belonged to his son
Yudhishthira. Dhritarashtra concludes his long discourse to Duryodhana here, saying:

Mayyabhgini rjyya katham tvam rjyam icchasi.

Yudhishthiro rjaputro mahtm;
nyygatam rjyam idam ca tasya
Sa kauravasysya janasya bhart;
prasit caiva mahnubhvah.

This quotation is from the Critical Edition of the Mahabharata. The Gita Press edition has
additional half a verse here, which should be part of the text: Arjaputro hyasvm,
parasvam hartum ichhasi. When you add this half verse after the first line above, the verses
quoted above mean:

I was not fortunate to have the right over the kingdom; how can you then desire to be
king? You are not the son of a king and therefore the kingdom does not belong to you. You
are coveting what does not belong to you and trying to snatch it away from its rightful
owner. The noble Yudhishthira is the son of the king, and this kingdom has rightfully been
inherited by him. He is now the lord of all of us Kauravas, and that generous one is the
[rightful] ruler of this land.

As we can see, here too the only factor mentioned is that Yudhishthira is Pandus [eldest]
son that he is older than Duryodhana is not a matter of importance at all.

If at all a second factor is to be considered, as Dhritarashtra and others imply, it is whether

the claimant is morally, physically and competency-wise qualified or not. Dhritarashtra
explains here [not quoted] that Yudhishthira admirably fits every requirement of a king and
Duryodhana does not.

Another minor thing here. During the discussion, Karve says Duryodhana was indeed
younger [than Yudhishthira] by a few months. According to the Mahabharata, it is not by
just a few months that Duryodhana is younger than Yudhishthira, but more, though we
cannot be sure exactly how much. What the Mahabharata says categorically is that
Duryodhana was born the same day as Bhima [Yasminn ahani bhmas tu jaje
bharatasattama, duryodhano pi tatraiva prajaje vasudhdhipa]. It will be safe to assume
that Duryodhana was at least one year younger than Yudhishthira.

O0O

Another thing that Karve says in her essay on the Vidura-Yudhishthira relationship is: When
they were planning to call gods to father the children, it is very curious that the first god
Kunti called was Yamadharma, the god of death.

Yama and Dharma are names of the same god, with two functions, and that god is
occasionally referred to as Yamadharma. However, the Yama name is more commonly
associated with death, and the name Dharma, with dharma virtue, righteousness, justice,
etc. Karve refers to Yamadharma as the god of death. It would indeed have been strange if
they had thought of the god of death but when Pandu suggests that Kunti invoke the god,
it is not his function as the god of death that he had in mind.

The Mahabharata repeatedly says that it is Dharma that was invoked by Kunti to beget her
eldest son not once does it use the word Yama in this context. Dharma is invoked is the
god of virtue and not as the god of death.

When Kunti is persuaded to beget children by niyoga with a god, she asks Pandu to tell her
which god she should invoke vhaymi kam devam brhi. Pandu tells her to invoke
Dharma.

Adyaiva tvam varrohe prayatasva yathvidhi

Dharmam vhaya ubhe sa hi deveshu punyabhk
Adharmena na no dharmah samyujyeta kathamcana
Loka cyam varrohe dharmoyam iti mamsyate
Dhrmika ca kurnm sa bhavishyati na samayah
Dattasypi ca dharmena ndharme ramsyate manah
Tasmd dharmam puraskrtya niyat tvam ucismite
Upacrbhicrbhym dharmam rdhayasva vai.

"Hearing this, Pandu replied, 'O handsome one, strive duly this very day to gratify our
wishes. Fortunate one, summon thou the god of justice. He is the most virtuous of the
celestials. The god of justice and virtue will never be able to pollute us with sin. The world
also, O beautiful princess, will then think that what we do can never be unholy. The son also
that we shall obtain from him shall in virtue be certainly the foremost among the Kurus.
Begotten by the god of justice and morality, he would never set his heart upon anything
that is sinful or unholy. Therefore, O thou of sweet smiles, steadily keeping virtue before thy
eyes, and duly observing holy vows, summon thou the god of justice and virtue by the help
of thy solicitations and incantations.' [KMG translation]

I have quoted in Sanskrit the entire speech of Pandu in this context to point out that the
word dharma appears several times in it, but there is no mention of the word Yama or any
indication of Dharmas association with death, whereas what Karve says is that the first god
invoked by Kunti was the lord of death.

The passage quoted above also makes clear the reasons given by Pandu while asking Kunti
to invoke Dharma: Dharma is the most virtuous of all gods sa hi deveshu punyabhk. And
if he is invoked, the act that we are going to do will never be linked to adharma
adharmena na no dharmam samyujyeta kathamcana. A son given by Dharma will remain

rooted in dharma, and there is no fear of his swerving from dharma, being the son of
Dharma.

In innumerable places in the epic, Yudhishthira has been called the son of Dharma and in all
these places the association of Dharma is with virtue and justice and other meanings of
dharma, but never once with death.

Incidentally, the primary function of a king, according to the Indian tradition is the
maintenance of dharma. The Mahabharata tells us that kingship was born out of the need to
protect dharma. Considering this it is perfectly understandable that Pandu thought of
Dharma on that occasion. He might also have been prompted by the thought that there has
been adharma in the royal family in the previous few generations.

In contrast to this repeated references to Dharma as the god of virtue, when the god is
discussed in connection with death, he is usually referred to as Yama, as in the SavitriSatyavan story. The appearance of the god too on such occasions is that of the god of
death, rather than of virtue. When he appears before Savitri to take away Satyavans life,
what she sees before her an effulgent being in red clothes, with a crown on his head, his
complexion dark, his eyes red, a rope in hand, and looking fearsome. When Savitri asks him,
it is as Yama that he introduces himself, and not as dharma: viddhi mm tvam ubhe
yamam.

He then informs her that her husband Satyavans life is over and he has come to tie him up
and carry him with him.

ayam te satyavn bhart kshnyuh prthivtmajah

neshymy enam aham baddhv viddhy etan me cikrshitam

Savitri then engages Yama in a conversation. She tells him she has heard it is his agents
[duth] that come to take the dead with them and asks him why he has come by himself.

Dharma is not associated with agents dutas. There is nothing called dharmadutas. It is
only in his function as the lord of death, Yama, that he has dutas.

Which is not to say that the two are not referred to as one god they are. In the following
verse in which the Savitri-Satyavan story is summed up, for instance, he is referred to both
as Yama and as Dharmaraja.

tathety uktv tu tn pn muktv vaivasvato yamah

dharmarjah prahrshttm svitrm idam abravt.

However, generally the name Dharma stands for the god of virtue and the name Yama, for
the god of death. And when Pandu asks Kunti to invoke the god, it is clearly as the god of
virtue and not as the god of death.

O0O

Karve says: Vidura was said to be an incarnation of Yamadharma, so we can surmise that
she did not call the god but her husbands brother Vidura. Moreover, as the younger brother
of Pandu, Vidura was, from the point of view of law and dharma, suited to father Pandus
children.

Karve is right is implying that in calling Vidura, they would be in effect be invoking Dharma
since Vidura is considered an incarnation of Dharma. However, she is wrong when she says
that as Pandus younger brother, Vidura was, from the point of view of law and dharma,
suited to father Pandus children. Vidura was not, for there was something that disqualified
him completely.

One thing ancient Indian culture and the dharmashastras were very particular about is that
marriages should be anuloma and not pratiloma. An anuloma marriage is when a man
marries a woman of the same varna as his or of an inferior varna. When a woman married a
man of an inferior varna, it was called a pratiloma marriage and all dharmashastras were in
one voice against this. The rule regarding anuloma and pratiloma marriage applied to
niyoga too. And this totally disqualified Vidura from performing niyoga with Kunti though
he was the son of Vyasa, he was throughout his life considered a suta as his mother was a
slave woman, a dasi, and hence Kuntis niyoga with him would have been pratiloma noyoga,
disapproved by, or rather tabooed by, both the scriptures as well as tradition.

Would Kunti have quietly performed niyoga with Vidura, keeping it a secret? I do not think
so. Varna/caste feelings were very strong then in the minds of people, as it is even today,
and there is no reason why Kunti could have been tempted to perform niyoga with Vidura. In
the Mahabharata, Vidura does not come out as a very desirable man from the standpoint
of a woman like Kunti for her to break the taboo and approach him for niyoga. She would
have been particular, speaking in human terms, that her niyoga was with a kshatriya of
royal descent or with a brahmana.

And, for that matter, I do not think Pandu would have considered Vidura an appropriate
choice either, for the same varna/caste reasons as Kuntis, in spite of any amount of
affection he might have had for his younger half-brother.

Neither Kunti nor Pandu would have wanted their son to be the grandson of a household
slave of the family of the Kurus.

We have several instances of royal niyogas mentioned in our epics. Ramas ancestor King
Kalmashapada asks his queen Madayanti to perform niyoga with Vasishtha, the most
revered sage of the day and a brahmana. Emperor Bali sends his wife Sudeshna for niyoga
with Deerghatamas, a sage and a brahmana. In the Mahabharata itself, when niyoga has to
be performed with Ambika and Ambalika, the options were limited only to anuloma niyoga
and the thought of a pratiloma niyoga occurred to no one. The queens expected some
member of the royal family of the Kurus all kshatriyas. Bhishmas choice, since he himself
would not do it, was some respected brahmana. And when he mentioned it, Satyavati
immediately mentioned her own son Vyasa, universally acknowledged as a brahmana of the
highest quality. The epics do not give us a single instance of a kshatriya queen choosing a
man of an inferior varna or caste as the surrogate father of her child through niyoga.

Lets recall Draupadis attitude towards sutas that she expresses in her swayamvara hall,
which I am sure, would have been the attitude of any kshatriya princess of the day. As Karna
aims the arrows at the target in the hall, Draupadi shouts for everyone in the assembly to
hear: nham varaymi stam I shall not wed a man of the suta caste.

And remember Karna was a king in his own right at that time and apart from being
considered a suta, he was practically everything that a kshatriya princess could look for in a
man among the very best warriors of the day, greater than almost anyone in archery,
particularly with the common knowledge that Arjuna was dead; noble in character, young,
full of valour, glorious to look at. As he makes his entry in the Mahabharata, in a single verse
the epic compares him to the sun, the moon and fire. He was born with golden armour and
earrings, making him very, very special. Besides all these, he was a hater of her fathers
enemies Drona and Bhishma Draupadi had been born from a sacrifice her father
performed to obtain a son who would kill Drona and her brother Shikhandi has been born
from another sacrifice her father had performed to obtain a son who would kill Bhishma.

In spite of all this, Draupadi shouts there, even forgetting the good manners required of a
bride: nham varaymi stam I shall not wed a man of the suta caste.

I do not think either Pandu or Kunti would have considered Vidura fit for the niyoga, let alone
the first choice.

Remember Viduras wife was a suta woman Bhishma, who arranged his marriage, did not
look for a kshatriya woman for him, quite possibly because no kshatriya woman would have
been willing certainly not a royal kshatriya princess.

O0O

Karve quotes Vyasa as saying Vidura was Yama incarnate born to Vichitraviryas
maidservant and me through my yogic powers; and he in his turn, through yogic powers,
gave birth to Yudhishthira, the king of the Kurus. The Hindi translation of Yuganta, made
from the Marathi, is equally clear. In it Karve quotes Vyasa as saying: pahle vicitravrya k
ds se mere dwr sksht dharmarj h yogbal se janm aur usne yogbal se kururj
yudhishthir ko janm diy

If we go by Karve, Vyasas statement here makes it crystal clear: it is Vidura, through his
yogic powers, who fathers Yudhishthira.

Had this clarity been there in Vyasas words, we would not be discussing this topic now the
whole world would have accepted Yudhishthira as the son of Vidura. Unfortunately, however,
there is no such clarity in Vyasas words in the Mahabharata. There are only two ways of
describing Vyasas words in the epic in this context: either as ambiguous, or as clearly
stating that it is the same god who became both Vidura and Yudhishthira. This is what Vyasa
says:

Yena yogabalj jtah kururjo yudhishthirah

Dharma ityesha nrpate prjenmitabuddhin.

KM Ganguli translates this as: From that deity of Righteousness, through Yoga-puissance,
the Kuru king Yudhishthira also took his birth. Yudhishthira, therefore, O king, is Dharma of
great wisdom and immeasurable intelligence.

Yo hi dharmah sa viduro viduro yah sa pndavah

Sa esha rjan vayas te pndavah preshyavat sthitah.

He who is dharma, is Vidura; he who is Vidura, is the Pandava [Yudhishthira]. It is that

Pandava, of king, that is standing before you, obedient like a servant.

As we can see, nowhere does Vyasa say that Vidura through yogic powers gave birth to
Yudhishthira. There is no such categorical statement from Vyasa here or anywhere else in
the entire Mahabharata.

Incidentally, once again, Karve uses the word Yama [Vidura was Yama incarnate] here,
though the Mahabharata text uses the word Dharma. On this occasion Vyasa uses the word
Dharma seven times in the course of a few verses, and not once does he use the word Yama
or allude to the deity of death. In fact, Vyasa here very clearly defines Dharma in a couple of
verses, and the definition is not of the lord death but of righteousness and virtue [who
grows in the hearts of men when practiced as truthfulness, sense control, mind control, noninjury and charity].

Karve gives another argument to say that Vidura could have been Yudhishthiras father a
beautiful one this time. She refers to an Upanishadic custom according to which a father at
the moment of his death makes his son lie next to him and then transfers all his powers into
him. If there was such a custom, this is definitely a good argument, though a father-like
person could also have done it with a son-like person and Vidura definitely had father-like
feelings for his nephew Yudhishthira.

O0O

We now come to how Karve sums up her argument. In her final words about the issue, she
says, One thing at least is clear: the Mahabharata, which is outspoken about all
relationships, has not made a single unambiguous statement about the affection of Vidura
and Dharma [Yudhishthira], or about their relationship.

Once again it is difficult to agree with what Karve says. Though we may find it difficult to
accept it today on rational grounds, the Mahabharata clearly states in several places that
Yudhishthira was the son of the god of Dharma. Vyasa states this in his own words spoken
soon after Viduras death he says here that Yudhishthiras father was the god Dharma who
like fire, like air, like water, like earth and like space is present simultaneously both here as
well as there, at the same time. He is at once everywhere and is immanent in everything,
moving and unmoving.

In the famous Yakshaprashna of the epic, god Dharma, who had earlier appeared as a crane
and then as a Yaksha, eventually reveals himself as Dharma. This is what Dharma tells
Yudhishthira:

Aham te janakas tta dharmo mrduparkrama

Tvm didrkshur anuprpto viddhi mm bharatarshabha.

Yaah satyam damah aucam rjavam hrr acpalam

Dnam tapo brahmacaryam ity ets tanavo mama.
Ahims samat ntis tapah aucam amatsarah
Dvrny etni me viddhi priyo hy asi sad mama.

I am your father Dharma, oh son of great valour and I came because I wanted to see you,
oh best of Bharatas. Glory, truth, self-control, cleanliness, straightforwardness, modesty,
steadfastness, charity, austerities, and brahmacharya all these are my bodies [I exist in
them]. Non-injury, tranquillity, peace, penance, purity, tolerance these are the doors
leading to me. And you are always dear to me.

The Mahabharata is unambiguous here according to it, it is the god Dharma who resides in
truth, etc., and who could be reached through ahimsa etc., who fathered Yudhishthira.

Clarifying this position further, Dharma says a few verses later: tva hi matprabhavo rjan
vidura ca mamabhk you are born of me, oh king, and Vidura too is born of a portion
of me.

The epic makes it absolutely clear here. Vidura is not the father of Yudhishthira. Both he and
Yudhishthira are born of Dharma.

The question Yudhishthira asks the Yaksha/Dharma in the Yakshaprashna too is interesting:
sa bhavn suhrd asmkam atha v nah pit bhavn? Are you a friend of ours, or are you our
father? One of the several fascinating implications of this question of Yudhishthira to the
Yaksha is he sees the possibility of the mysterious being in front of him being the father of
the Pandavas. The Yaksha was certainly not Vidura Vidura had no power to appear as a
Yaksha [or as a crane] and yet Yudhishthira asks him are you our father? According to
Yudhishthira here, their father was someone other than Vidura.

Also, when Pandu asks Kunti to invoke the god, he asks her to do so through upachara and
abhichara. Upachara is worship and abhichara involves rituals incantations that force a
power/deity to appear before you, usually against his well. Pandu and Kunti do not need
abhichara to call and make that request to Vidura who was Pandus younger brother and for
all we know, very close to Pandu and to Kunti.

Also, Vyasa says that Dharma gave birth to Yudhishthira using his yogic power, just as Vyasa
gave birth to Vidura using his yogic power. Vyasa was a man of enormous yogic power and
he displays it many times in the Mahabharata. But as far as we know Vidura has no such
powers, except what he develops in his very advanced age while he was living in the jungle

as an ascetic. The man who gave birth to Kuntis first son through yogic powers could not
have been Vidura.

Our problem is that we believe Vidura should be the father of Yudhishthira and does not find
a single clear proof for this.

The affection Vidura had for Yudhishthira is easy to explain even without assuming they
were father and son. Yudhishthira was loved by all in his day, including most of his enemies,
if not all of them. He was good natured, kind and compassionate, well-mannered, courteous,
just, willing to accommodate other peoples views and had great self-control. Rooted in
dharma like Vidura, a wise man like Vidura, he was so much like Vidura in so many respects.
And he was Viduras nephew. There is absolutely no reason why Vidura could not have had a
strong affection for Yudhishthira even without having a father-son relationship with him.
Besides, that Yudhishthira lost his father [Pandu] at a young age and had to suffer so much
in life, through the cruelty of his own cousins, could have deepened Viduras natural
affection for him.

O0O

My own stand on Yudhishthiras parentage is this: at a human level, we do not have a single
clue as to who his father is. The Mahabharata gives us none. That secret dies with Kunti and
Pandu and if anyone else in the epic knew it, with them.

As for the Mahabharata telling us that Dharma was Yudhishthiras father, my view is this: It
was invented later because Yudhishthira was so much preoccupied with dharma, he was
called the son of Dharma.

I also believe that the fathers of the other Pandavas too were invented or imagined later.
Because Bhima was strong like the wind, it was imagined he was the son of Vayu, because
Arjuna was an unsurpassed warrior like Indra, it was imagined that he was the son of Indra,
and because Nakula and Sahadeva were twins, good looking, wise and inseparable, they
came to be called sons of the Ashwins, the twin gods,.

Yudhishthira was not preoccupied with dharma because he was the son of Dharma. He
became the son of Dharma because he was preoccupied with dharma.

O0O

By the way, I do not believe that Yudhishthira and Vidura shared the same nature. They
definitely had common preoccupations in life, but they were also two very different people.
Viduras preoccupation with dharma was invariably a very earthly concern, without implying
that Vidura was not concerned with dharma that was not practical. And at times Vidura did
not mind circumventing the ordinary rules of dharma, the lower dharma or the words of
dharma, for the sake of the spirit of dharma or the higher dharma. For instance, he did not
mind being disloyal to and betraying his masters when they were on the path of adharma,
as when the Pandavas were treacherously sent to the house of lac by Dhritarashtra and
Duryodhana. In this he is very close to Krishna, who would do the same for the same
reasons for Krishna too the higher dharma was more important than the lower dharma.
Krishna had the courage to say that there are times when a lie is superior to the truth
satyj jyeyonrtam vacah, and Vidura would wholeheartedly agree with this. Yudhishthira
might eventually be persuaded to agree with this position, but it would be with great
difficulty, as when he was persuaded to lie or equivocate about Ashwatthamas death.

Yudhishthiras preoccupation with dharma was essentially an intellectual pursuit, and for
that reason different in nature from that of Viduras. I would call Yudhishthira an idealist
obsessed with dharma, and Vidura a pragmatist with great respect for dharma.

Also, Vidura is almost a sthitaprajna, his inner world free from conflicts. Whereas
Yudhishthiras inner world is rarely free from storms, in spite of his external calmness,
because of unresolved moral and psychological issues. Yudhishthira was a lost soul most of
his life, all tied up within himself. His inadequacies, confusions and self-contradictions last till
the very end, as shown by his response to Draupadis fall on the Himalayas. Vidura seems to
have had absolutely clear perceptions right from the beginning. Vidura not once displays the
suicidal tendencies that Yudhishthira repeatedly displays, nor does Vidura share
Yudhishthiras melancholy. Vidura is a master from the beginning if we are to go by the
existing text of the Mahabharata, Bhishma begins consulting him on important issues even
when he is in his mid-teens. By contrast, Yudhishthira remains a student till the end of his
life. When we meet Vidura for the first time in the epic, he is already fully grown and
finished and for Yudhishthira, his education is practically never over.

In literary terms, Vidura is a flat character, clear and simple, with no ambiguities about him;
whereas Yudhishthira is one of the most complex characters in world literature.

The two individuals are not the same at all, though outwardly they look very similar.

O0O

Additional

Immediately after finishing this article, I came across a report in the Hindustan Times of 6th
April, 2009, under the title Is that sperm taken from the right caste? I am giving below the
relevant parts from the report, without adding any comment of my own.

If many childless parents in Bihar had their way, they would want vaults at sperm banks
with clear labels: Brahmin, Bhumihar, Yadav.

Couples opting for sperm donations in Bihar are demanding to know the caste of the donor
before they go ahead and often getting their answers as well.

Neither features nor height nor even IQ concerned us as much, says Anuradha Rai [36], an
Internet marketing manager from the Bhumihar community. My husband felt that if the
sperm donor was from a different caste, the baby would not get the right genes and
wouldnt be like us.

It is a stunning statement of how even young, urban, educated and well to-do Indians, their
lives transformed by the emerging India, have been unable to unshackle themselves from
the centuries-old caste consciousness despite their desperation to have a child.

Dr Himanshu Roy, a gynaecologist and infertility specialist, says, The most common
questions are about culture, healthand caste. Parents from the upper caste are especially
concerned about this.

While sperm banks are not permitted to reveal identities or complete details of donors,
many have to oblige when it comes to caste. People are insistent, almost fanatical, about
caste, says Dr S Kumar, who owns the sperm bank Frozen Cell.

O0O

Note: All quotations from the Mahabharata are from the BORI Critical edition. However, for
the sake of thoroughness, the Gita Press edition has also been consulted. All translations
from the Sanskrit are mine, except where otherwise stated.

POSTED BY SATYA CHAITANYA AT 8:50 PM

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LABELS: BHISHMA, DHRITARASHTRA, GANDHARI, IRAVATI KARVE, MAHABHARATA, VIDURA,

YUDHISHTHIRA, YUGANTA
3 COMMENTS:

RENUJuly 3, 2010 at 6:11 AM

Dear Satya Chaitanya,

Thanks for a very well researched and written article. You are voicing many of my own
thoughts on Mahabharata.

My humble opinion: You said Yama and Dharma are two profiles adorned by the same deity. I
beg to differ.

Yama Dharma is defined as the Lord of death, Lord Surya's son. He is described as one with
darkish hue.

And the Lord of righteousness is born of Lord Brahma, and is the father of Nara-Narayana.
Interestingly, they are the ones who incarnated as Krishna and Arjuna!

Usually, the sons of Devas inherit the qualities of their parents - The Pandava twins were
handsome as the Aswini Twins, Arjuna as regal as Indhra etc. How can we say that
Yudhishtira, described to be of golden hue looking like a lion, is the son is the dark Yama?

I always consider Arjuna to be Man's Conscious, Yudhishtira Sub-Conscious and Krishna the
Super-Conscious or the Inner Soul or the Athma.

Is it necessary to research the parentage of the mind? Yes it is, as we recognize that all
layers of the mind and soul come from the same Energy Point.

That is Dharma. That is Order. That is Beauty. That is Mercy. That is God.

Praying to that One God to bless you,

RENU.

Reply

AnonymousDecember 30, 2013 at 9:01 AM

One thing is for sure that no one knows who was sleeping with whom? In those days days I
guess it was free for all. So people in Mahabharta we pray had ZERO morals or respect.
Husband asking wife to sleep with Swami, Father asking daughter to sleep with Swami. I
guess Swami could sleep with any women those days and we should not waste too much
energy into bowing down to those immoral people.

Reply

Sacha SinghApril 25, 2015 at 3:39 AM

You have mentioned that Duryodhana was only a few months younger than Yushishthir. Pl
check. Dur. and Bhim were borne on the same day. After hearing of the birth of the
illustrious son of Kunri Gandhari had caused the flesh ball to comeout of her womb which
was then divided in to 101 parts by Vyas and put in earthenware pots filled with ghee to be
opened not before two years.

Pandu and his wives were at Shat Shring, beyond Gandhmaadan when Yu was concieved,
Vidur at that time was ar Hastinapur.

I find it much a do about nothing.

Mahabharata: Right to the Bharata Throne

In the Mahabharata, who is the rightful heir to the Bharata throne Yudhishthira or
Duryodhana? Recently I put this question to a group of about a hundred bright young
people, all of whom were familiar with the Mahabharata story. The opinion was clearly
divided. In fact, while many were confused, a slight majority felt it belonged to Duryodhana.

A lot of people feel that Duryodhana was the rightful heir to the Bharata throne throughout
the central story of the epic. The argument is that even if Dhritarashtra was originally
denied the throne because of his blindness, Pandu gave it to him and hence he was the king
if not while Pandu was alive, definitely after his death. And since Duryodhana was
Dhritarashtras son, he was the rightful heir to the throne of the Bharatas, however unfair it
sounds towards the Pandavas. They feel that in spite of being good and all, the Pandavas
had no legal claim over the Bharata throne and it is our sympathy for them that makes us
take their side and Krishna too supported them because they were good and were his
people.

However, the Mahabharata itself does not agree with this position.

Here is what Bhishma tells Duryodhana in the Udyoga Parva, during a heated scene
immediately before the war, in yet another attempt to make Duryodhana accept the truth:

Andhah karanahneti na vai rj pit tava

Rj tu pndur abhavan mahtm lokavirutah
Sa rj tasya te putrh pitur dydyahrinah

M tta kalaham krsh rjyasyrdham pradyatm

Since your father was blind, he could not become king, being disqualified by that. It was
the noble Pandu, renowned everywhere, who became king. Since he was king and the
Pandavas are his children, they are the heirs to his property. Dont quarrel, son, and give [at
least] half the kingdom to them.

There is no mention in Bhishmas words of Dhritarashtra ever becoming king of the

Bharatas.

Gandhari, Duryodhanas mother, too participates in this discussion, with the hope that she
may influence Duryodhana. If what Bhishma says is not enough, her statement here makes
it clearer still:

Rjyam tu pndor idam apradhrshyam;

tasydya putrh prabhavanti nnye.
Rjyam tad etan nikhilam pndavnm;
paitmaham putrapautrnugmi.

This powerful kingdom, indeed, belonged to Pandu. And after him it belongs to his children,
and to no one else. The entire kingdom belongs to the Pandavas, for, the tradition is that the
kingdom comes down from the father to the son and then to his son.

If these statements by Bhishma and Gandhari are not enough, here is what Dhritarashtra
himself says on the issue on this occasion. Old Dhritarashtra point blank tells his son that he
has no right to the kingdom. The kingdom belonged to Pandu, since he, Dhritarashtra, was
disqualified by his blindness, ever since Pandus death, it has belonged to his eldest son
Yudhishthira. Dhritarashtra concludes his long discourse to Duryodhana here, saying:

Mayyabhgini rjyya katham tvam rjyam icchasi.

Arjaputro hyasvm, parasvam hartum ichhasi
Yudhishthiro rjaputro mahtm;
nyygatam rjyam idam ca tasya
Sa kauravasysya janasya bhart;
prasit caiva mahnubhvah.

I was not fortunate to have the right over the kingdom; how can you then desire to be
king? You are not the son of a king and therefore the kingdom does not belong to you. You
are coveting what does not belong to you and trying to snatch it away from its rightful
owner. The noble Yudhishthira is the son of the king, and this kingdom has rightfully been
inherited by him. He is now the lord of all of us Kauravas, and that generous one is the
[rightful] ruler of this land.

By the rules and traditions that existed in the Mahabharata days and in the Bharata family,
Yudhishthira and Yudhishthira alone was the rightful heir to the throne of Hastinapura.

There is one other way of looking at it. In India in general, and in the Bharata family in
particular, apart from the fact that the claimant had to be the eldest of the diseased king
and was healthy, there was by custom another requirement: that he was morally too fit to
be king. Of all the unlikely people, it is Dhritarashtra who dwells upon this fact and clarifies
that by this convention too, it is to Yudhishthira that the kingdom belongs. Speaking about
this, Dhritarashtra says:

sa satyasandhah satatpramattah; stre sthito bandhujanasya sdhuh

priyah prajnm suhrdnukamp; jitendriyah sdhujanasya bhart
ksham titiksh dama rjavam ca; satyavratatvam rutam apramdam
bhtnukamp hy anusanam ca; yudhishthire rjagunh samasth
arjaputras tvam anryavrtto; lubdhas tath bandhushu ppabuddhih
kramgatam rjyam idam pareshm; hartum katham akshyasi durvintah

He is always truthful and invariably clear-sighted. He follows the injunctions of the

scriptures, and is always favourably disposed to the advice of his friends. He is dear to the
subjects and kind to his friends. He is a master of his passions and a protector of the
virtuous. Yudhishthira has every virtue required in a king, such as patience, forbearance,
self-control and straightforwardness. His studies are deep, he is bound by truth; he is filled
with compassion for all beings and is disciplined. Whereas you you are not the son of a
king, your conduct is ignoble, you are greedy, and you always think of how to harm your
own people. By inheritance, this kingdom belongs to others. And you, O wicked one, how
can you grab it for yourself?

Well, all this makes it quite clear to whom the kingdom belongs. However, in the
Mahabharata things are never so unambiguously clear. We have a discordant note here too
Drona. Just like Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, Drona too says that the kingdom
belongs to Yudhishthira and not to Duryodhana but in saying so, he says something that
none of the others has said: that Dhritarashtra has been installed on the throne by Pandu.

This is what Drona says, speaking about what Pandu did:

tatah pndur narapatih satyasandho jitendriyah

rj kurnm dharmtm suvratah susamhitah
jyeshthya rjyam adadd dhrtarshtrya dhmate
yavyasas tath kshattuh kuruvamavivardhanah

tatah simhsane rjan sthpayitvainam acyutam

vanam jagma kauravyo bhrybhym sahito nrpah

Then Pandu, the king of the Kurus, the perpetrator of the race of the Kurus, ever-truthful, a
master of his passions, rooted in dharma, noble in his vows and fully a master of himself,
gave the kingdom to his sagacious elder brother Dhritarashtra and to his younger brother
Vidura. Having placed Dhritarashtra on the throne, oh prince, that scion of the Kurus, the
king, went to the jungle along with his two wives.

Subsequently Drona adds: visrjya dhrtarshtrya rjyam sa vidurya ca having given away
the kingdom to Dhritarashtra along with Vidura.

From what Drona says, we will have to conclude what Pandu put Dhritarashtra on the throne
that is, officially appointed him king. If he did that, the whole argument changes and all
that Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari say become invalid.

How do we reconcile the positions taken by these three with what Drona says. The only way
I can think of is Drona is not aware of the exact position he was not present when these
incidents took place, whereas Bhishma, Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, all three of them, were
present. They were not only present, the whole series of incidents were centred around
them. If Dronas words contradict them, we will have to reject those words and go by what
these three say.

I do not see any choice but to agree with the position taken by them: Duryodhana never had
any right to the throne of the Bharatas, it always belonged to Yudhishthira.

O0O
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LABELS: BHISHMA, DURYODHANA, GANDHARI, KAURAVAS, MAHABHARATA, PANDAVAS,

YUDHISHTHIRA
5 COMMENTS:

KameshApril 16, 2009 at 2:57 PM

Drona could not have been a witness to Pandu's giving up the kingdom. As is clear in the
story, Drona is visiting Kripa and comes across the Pandavas and Kauravas playing near a
well. At that point, Pandu has been dead for a nunber of years.

Reply

mentalemesisJuly 17, 2012 at 1:37 AM

Also, if I'm not mistaken, the Pandavas had given up the claim to the Bharata throne and
had established themselves at Indraprastha. They had been tricked into going on exile,
which again they accepted. The final war was fought because Duryodhan refused to give
them even the 5 villages which they said they would be content with. The war was fought
solely because Duryodhan pushed the Pandavas way too far and they Pandavas had had
enough of having their patience and non confrontative attitude being exploited.

Reply

Adisty AyuniaristaJune 24, 2013 at 11:44 PM

Are you sure that Pandu is the real father of Pandava? He is infertile or impotent, is not he?

And Mahabharata is a great poem that written thousand years ago. History always written
by the winner. Are you sure that the Mahabharata is real story and not written to glorify
Pandava as the winner?

thanks.

Regards: Adisty

Reply

Sudhir JoglekarSeptember 10, 2014 at 11:39 PM

There is yet another angle to this discussion - there are precedences among the Kurus of the
younger son's line continuing if the elder son is considered ineligible to become king. Here is
the link to my blog on this subject http://riddlesinmahabharat.blogspot.in/2014/09/who-wasreal-successor-duryodhan-or_10.html

Reply

November 29, 2014 at 2:25 AM

How could Duryodhana believe that Pandavas were the children of Pandu, in the first place ?
He knew that Pandu was infertile when he went to the forest with his wives. I personally
believe that story was made up by Kunti.
Picture this: In 21st century,one of your relatives, a rich ,sterile man from India goes to live
in a foreign country, say America. After his death, his wife comes, with 4-5 children, claiming
that they were the children of President of 'x'country, Prime Minister of 'y' country, King of
'p' country, etc.accepted by her husband. Will you accept them and give a share of your
ancestral property?
( http://innertraditions.blogspot.in/2009/04/mahabharata-right-to-bharata-throne.html )