MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#2: The Seeds of War (Mba) Read online

  Devayani looked up at the handsome face of the young man gazing down at her, the sun behind his head, flaring like a corona of energy around the head of some supernatural being, and wondered if she was viewing a vision. She decided to answer as honestly as possible without revealing the exact story of what had befallen her until she knew who he was in turn and whether her tormentor was nearby. After days spent in the darkness and damp of the well, she had nursed a great anger towards her former companion. She had vowed to herself that if she survived this experience and was able to emerge from this prison alive, she would seek vengeance against Sharmishtha. She did not know how or when she would do it, but she would be avenged for her humiliation as well as her attempted murder. But as the hours turned into a night and night into day and then another night and day, she grew miserable with self-pity and deprivation, her anger turning to a cold fury. By the time Yayati found her, all she desired was to be freed from this hole and to return home. When the cover of the well was moved aside and the handsome young male face peered down she saw it as a benediction of the Almighty Creator upon her. After all that she had suffered, the loss of her beloved Kacha, the humiliation by Sharmishtha – a woman barely fit to be her maid and companion, and the days and nights spent hungry and cold in this miserable well hole – she saw Yayati as a saviour. Surely he had not come here by accident and merely happened to open the cover of the well to find her. Surely he had been put upon this path by some greater force at work. She saw it as a sign that her fortunes were about to change.

  ‘Great king,’ she replied, ‘for I can see from your aspect that you are most certainly one of high birth and lineage, I am the daughter of Shukracharya, also known as Kavya Ushanas, preceptor to the asuras, possessor of the fabled Sanjivani knowledge that can revive even the dead. I fell into this well by accident and have been trapped here for some time. Neither my father nor anyone else would have realized that I have fallen down here hence nobody came to my rescue. It is my great fortune to have been found by you. I beg you, save me from this place.’

  Yayati needed no further urging. Fashioning a lifeline from hemp ropes, he tied one end to both his horses and the other around his waist before lowering himself into the dark narrow well. The instant he reached the bottom, Devayani embraced him warmly, relieved and genuinely happy to be saved. Yayati resisted the surge of feelings her proximity provoked in him and focussed his energy on securing the rope around her waist as well, before tugging and clicking his tongue and calling out to urge his horses to draw them out of the well. Soon, they were out of the well and he untied the rope from around Devayani’s waist reluctantly. She was even more beautiful in the daylight and though he avoided gazing directly at her lack of modesty and offered her a part of his own anga-vastra to cover herself, he had seen and felt enough of her youth and beauty to be completely infatuated with desire. He had no wish to say goodbye to her.

  But while Devayani was equally attracted to her regal saviour, her heart was still fixed on vengeance. She requested Yayati to drop her off near the hut where her companions stayed, not willing to go to the main ashram in her present state. Yayati gladly did as she requested and was frankly disappointed when she bade him a quick if heartfelt goodbye and went into the hut of her friend. But he had been on the hunt for too many days already with little success – unless one counted finding a beautiful doe at the bottom of a well to be good hunting – and it was time for him to return to his capital city. He turned the heads of his horses and rode away, but not before marking in his mind the location of Devayani’s friend’s hut and the ashram nearby, with every intention of seeing her again soon.

  Devayani’s friend Ghurnika was shocked to see her appear thus, in her dishevelled and starved condition, oddly clad. ‘Where have you been? Your father has been worried sick about you! Everyone has been out looking for you. Where were you these past days?’

  Devayani was curt and impatient. ‘Where is my father now? I must see him at once.’

  ‘He is in the palace,’ Ghurnika said, ‘Attending to his duties as usual. Worried though he was about you, he could not neglect his tasks.’

  Devayani nodded. ‘Yes, of course. I must ask you to go and fetch him at once. Tell him what has happened to me. I will coach you on what to say. You must leave immediately.’

  ‘Surely. We can go together. He will be so relieved to see you safe and sound.’

  ‘No!’ Devayani’s voice was sharp and brooked no disagreement. ‘I cannot go to Vrishaparva’s palace, I will not even enter the city! I must ask you to go and fetch him. Will you do this for me?’

  ‘Of course,’ Ghurnika said. ‘But…’

  ‘I will explain everything later. Right now, do as I say. Tell this to my father…’

  Ghurnika followed her friend’s instructions to the letter. Reaching the palace of the asuras, she went straight to Maharishi Kavya Ushanas and greeted him deferentially. ‘Gurudev, I have brought news of Devayani.’

  Shukracharya was immediately concerned. ‘What news? Tell me. Is she well?’

  Ghurnika glanced around at the asura nobles and ministers present. ‘My Lord, what I have to say is for your ears only.’

  The preceptor did not question her reasons for desiring privacy. He waited until they were in a place where none other could hear them, then urged her. ‘Now tell me, is my daughter well?’

  ‘Yes, great one. She is quite hale and hearty. It was she who bid me come to you in the palace and bring you this message.’

  The guru was a wise man. As preceptor of the asuras he had seen and known more in his single lifetime than most people experience in several lifetimes. He understood that something had transpired which had to be dealt with delicately. ‘What is it? Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.’

  ‘Gurudev, Devayani was attacked in the forest by Sharmishtha and left for dead at the bottom of a well. She escaped from the well only today. That was why she was nowhere to be found.’

  Guru Shukra took in this news with equanimity. ‘You are certain of this fact?’

  ‘Yes, my lord. She herself told me to pass on this message to you. She asked me to do so discreetly so no one else would hear.’

  Kavya Ushanas considered this silently. His daughter had been sensible to have issued that instruction. After all, this palace was Vrishaparva’s domain, as was the city itself. And Sharmishtha was Vrishaparva’s daughter! Had Ghurnika related this news before anyone else, a scandal would have exploded in the city.

  He thanked Ghurnika for her discretion and help, then asked her to take him at once to the place where his daughter was staying. He told no one else what had happened.

  When he was with Devayani, he enfolded her in his arms with a father’s joy at seeing his offspring safe and sound. Once they had exchanged the emotional relief of being reunited, he asked her gently, ‘What happened? Tell me the truth.’

  ‘The truth is that Sharmishtha tried to kill me. It is sheer luck that I survived her assault and the fall into the well. And it is through my own perseverence that I was able to climb out of the well at last today and return to you. She left me for dead, father! She thought she had murdered me and she left me for dead!’ Devayani sobbed in her father’s arms, but even through her anguish, her voice and face betrayed her rage.

  Shukracharya looked at her closely. ‘How did this happen?’

  ‘She just attacked me for no reason,’ Devayani said. ‘She’s a murderess!’

  The preceptor was too wise not to see something amiss with this overly simplistic explanation. ‘People don’t just attack for another for no reason. There must have been some cause or provocation. Maybe you said or did something to set her off? Whether knowingly or unknowingly?’

  ‘I did nothing to her, father!’ Devayani insisted tearfully.

  The guru shook his head slowly, his lined face uncertain, the long greying beard still and stiff. ‘I find that hard to believe, beloved daughter. What reason would she have? Perhaps it was some old enmity that she w
as seeking to avenge? Did you do something to cause her unhappiness a long time ago?’

  ‘Do you not believe me?’ she asked plaintively. ‘I tell you, I did nothing to cause her to strike me or want me dead! Why will you not believe me?’

  Guru Kavya Ushanas sighed and looked away. ‘Vrishaparva’s daughter would not raise a hand on their preceptor’s daughter without some provocation or justification.’

  ‘That is the reason then!’ Devayani cried. ‘It was because I am your daughter that she attacked me. She said so herself! I did not realize it at the time, but now that you are asking me, I recall it clearly. She said terrible, awful things about you immediately before she began attacking me. Tired from my imprisonment at the bottom of the well and hurt from the beating and the fall, I forgot to tell you this earlier. But now I recall every ugly word she spat at me before she attempted to murder me.’

  Shukracharya stared at her. ‘Because you are my daughter? Why would that be a reason for Vrishaparva’s daughter to attack you? He is a lord of the asuras, king of the danavas, one of my followers. As their preceptor, they look up to me with undying respect. The thought of striking any brahmin would never cross their minds. The idea that they would harm their own guru’s daughter is unthinkable!

  ‘Yet they murdered Kacha, not once but twice,’ she pointed out shrewdly, ‘and the second time they didn’t just strike him and kill him, they cremated him and fed you the ashes mingled in soma!’

  Kavya turned his face away in embarrassment. He had never forgiven himself for having gotten drunk on soma that day. It had been the last time he had ever consumed alcohol but the memory was still fresh in his mind. If not for his vile habit, he would never have had to pass on the secret of Sanjivani to the devas. The memory rankled. Devayani’s words succeeded in their intention: they made him recall that the danavas had indeed transgressed their bounds and acted with great irreverence towards him. He was silent.

  Seeing that she had struck a nerve, Devayani pressed her advantage. ‘Father, listen to me. She flew into a rage. It was as if a fit came over her and she began to spout the most horrible untruths and insults! Her eyes were red like a rakshasa’s and her voice was shrill like that of an Uraga in heat. She ranted on and on, spewing insults and saying awful things about you. I couldn’t bear to hear it!’

  Ushanas frowned. ‘About me? What did she say about me?’ Until now he had assumed that this was the consequence of some disagreement between the two girls. Sharmishtha and Devayani had been friends for years, after all. And friends did sometimes fight, often bitterly. But with the reminder of how the danavas had acted towards his erstwhile disciple and then towards himself, their own guru, the first seed of malice had been sown in his heart. Now, he was genuinely shocked to hear that the daughter of his greatest patron had said untruths about him!

  Devayani said in a quivering voice that revealed her own disgust at the words she was repeating: ‘She said I was the daughter of one who was nothing more than a begger for alms, hand always stretched out, asking, always asking, saying whatever he had to in order to curry favour or gain a few coins or grains.’

  Shukra stared at his daughter, dumbfounded. ‘She said that?’

  Devayani went on, emboldened by the fact that she was repeating the truth. Sharmishtha had indeed said all those things. ‘She said you only praised the asuras in order to gain their scraps and leavings. She made you out to be a person without pride or dignity, someone no less than a stray dog on the streets of her father’s city who would wag his tail and beg dolefully for a morsel of food. Oh, father, it was terrible! I could not bear to hear her say such things. And the tone in which she shouted and ranted. All our friends were there and they heard her as well. It was the most humiliating experience of my life!’

  Shukracharya caught his daughter by the shoulders, staring at her intently. His piercing black eyes were wide and alert. ‘You say others heard her say these things as well? Your other girl companions?’

  She nodded. ‘By the river. We had just finished bathing. They were witness to the whole incident. Then she tried to steal my garments and wear them herself. When I tried to take them back, she pushed me away. I was scared. I ran from there. She followed me into the forest where no one else could see and she attacked me. She kept screaming insults at you, saying worse things that I can never repeat and she tried to kill me. I stumbled and fell into a dark place, into water and mud which broke my fall. And I lost consciousness. When I awoke, I realized I was at the bottom of a well and she had pulled the cover shut above me, trapping me inside. I screamed until my voice was hoarse but nobody could hear me. It’s a miracle that a chivalrous young king happened to be passing by. He heard my cries, helped me out, and thanks to his grace, I was able to come back here alive. He was King Yayati, son of Nahusha.’

  Shukra knew now that she was telling the absolute truth. Whatever reason Vrishaparva’s daughter might have had to lose her temper at his daughter, she had certainly done and said all these things to Devayani. He could hear and see the truth in her eyes, face and voice. It hardly mattered what Devayani had said to provoke the asuri. This was beyond humiliation or a childish quarrel. It was intolerable! This was attempted murder, no less.

  ‘Father?’ Devayani asked, unable to read his mind as easily as he had read her’s. ‘You do believe me, do you not? I am telling the truth!’

  ‘Yes, my daughter. I believe you,’ he said grimly. ‘You must know that those terrible things she said were all lies. It is a brahmin’s dharma to live off alms as best as he can, not because he is a dog who seeks to curry favour, but because his dharma is to dedicate every waking moment to learning and knowledge. These are reasons to praise brahmins, not insult them! It is I who is always admired, respected, honoured and praised by kshatriyas like Vrishaparva, and in return, I rarely need to praise them for any reason. Whether it is Vrishaparva or any other asura, or even a mortal king such as the one who saved you, or even devas such as Indra himself, lord of the gods, it is they who must bow and show allegiance to me and beg me to accept dakshina, for my acceptance honours them!’

  ‘Father, I know that she was speaking untruth. Even though I am but a girl yet, I know the difference between you and Vrishaparva and the other asuras. That is why I could not stand there and listen to her speak such vile words about you. Even if I were to overlook the fact that she attempted to kill me, yet I could never forgive her for saying those things about my father!’

  Shukra nodded, his high forehead and lined face stern with disapproval. ‘You speak rightly. Her speech was unforgivable. Yet know this, Devayani, the one who is able to ignore the criticism of others conquers all obstacles. The wise man is like a charioteer who knows when to rein in his horses and does so at exactly the right moment, never letting them go out of control or pulling on the reins too tightly. As a snake casts off its old skin thus must we learn to cast off anger through the act of forgiving. Everyone feels hurt when criticized by evil words, but he who is able to restrain himself from retaliating against his critics attains his goals. Compare two men: One performs yagyas continuously every month for a hundred years while another performs no yagyas but is able to restrain his anger perfectly for the same length of time. The one without anger is the superior man. You are young and youth is prone to quarrels and emotional upsets. But that is why you must learn to rise above your anger and emotion and grow into womanhood. That way lies wisdom.’

  ‘Father, you speak great words of wisdom. I shall endeavour always to do as you advise. But was it not you who taught me that a wise man never condones the insults of those who are evil in their intent. If the evil ones persist in their persecution, the wise man knows well enough to move away from them and live elsewhere. Vrishaparva and the asuras are your followers and disciples, therefore it is their dharma to show you respect and honour. Yet his own daughter speaks such vile words against you. As your daughter, how can I tolerate that? You have taught me that the one thing a guru can never condone is disrespect fr
om his pupils. Those who speak ill of people with higher learning cannot be tolerated. In all my life I have never heard anyone speak such terrible things about you. And yet it was the daughter of your own disciple Vrishaparva who said them. How can I forget or forgive her?’

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  Kavya acknowledged the anger of his daughter and her righteousness. He returned at once to Vrishaparva’s palace and went before his patron. ‘Oh king, there is a limit to tolerance and forgiveness. I have overlooked your offenses and transgressions before but I can no longer overlook them anymore. When you had the brahmin Kacha murdered, not once but twice, you transgressed not only against me but against dharma itself. For he was innocent of any wrongdoing, devoted to dharma, and a loyal pupil, as well as a brahmin. By murdering him you committed a grave offense. Yet I overlooked that sin at the time. But sooner or later the fruits of evil will manifest themselves. Now by causing great hurt and injury to my daughter and nearly murdering her as well, you have exceeded all bounds. This I can never forgive or forget. How could you let such things happen? If this is how you permit your daughter and followers to act then I have no further desire to be your guru. I shall resign as of this very moment and take my leave from this palace, never again to set foot here.’

  Vrishaparva was mortified by these accusations. He came down from his throne dais and joined his palms before his guru. ‘My lord, my teacher, great illuminator of knowledge. I am not aware of these crimes you accuse me of, yet I know you to be a man of impeccable truth and honesty. If you say these things happened then they must have been done by the persons accused, and I take full responsibility for their actions as well. You are the epitome of dharma and your judgement is indisputable. But I beg you, do not take any action against us for we depend on you as those at sea need the shelter of a boat to stay afloat. We shall drown without your guidance and wisdom.’