The sun was bleeding red. The sky shared its dark, menacing hues, as though proving its allegiance to the sun; it was in sync with the dying day and fading sun.
Earth looked as though it had taken blood-bath.It was as though the sky had splashed dark hues on the earth making it its partner in crime. The tress, blissfully unaware of the barbaric intentions of humans, swayed rhythmically to the cool breeze and looked bright and shiny in the multi-shades of the sky.
The day was coming to a closure and so was the battle, for the day. Rama looked around in guilt and disgust. Headless bodies, wounded and immobile soldiers, lying there in the blood dipped ground, moaning in pain….. The battlefield was reeking with blood and the sight of dead bodies was repulsive. It was as though death and destruction danced in ecstasy.
Death! Thou art cruel and gruesome.
War and death, hand in hand played havoc on the minds of the kith and kin of the deceased. Could the vile and crafty rulers not settle for peaceful ways of resolving issues? A question that has been left unanswered for centuries, from the Greeks to the Romans, the Crusaders to Mughals, Europeans to Americans. From silent rebellions to the bloody revolutions, earth has borne the brunt of human avarice and vengeance.
The humane element in the world was fast receding and time was not far when compassion and ‘milk of human kindness’ would disappear from the face of the earth.
Or else why would brothers become rivals and fight one another? Why else would cousins become blood-thirsty and draw swords at one another?
Strange and weird! But TRUE.
The surroundings reeked of blood and the stench from the bodies was unbearable. Each grain of soil seemed to cry out in pain that failed to reach the ears and the hearts of the warmongers.
Kurukshetra was lamenting the tragic battle between cousins. What flowed like river was blood of kith and kin, what was lost was faith in humanity and what bred was animosity and intolerance.
A battle that shook the roots of Kuru vamsha and uprooted the age-old faith in family ties. It was not a battle of victory and defeat, it was a war between truth and falsehood, virtue and vice, Dharma and Adharma, fair play and foul intentions. The outcome had to be disastrous, sparing none who indulged in deceit and betrayal.
The battle was not fought to prove chivalry but was an outcome of deeply rooted hatred and jealousy, hence brutality and savagery manifested in each blow, each arrow.
Contempt breeds disrespect and fairness grooms civility. The growing discontent and differences between the Kouravas and Pandavas could have been resolved if the elders of the clan had intervened when the Kouravas, especially Duryodhana, spat his grievances.
But it was not to be. The wise, learned and scholarly elders dismissed the Kourava’s uncouth behaviour as ‘childish and guileless.’ Wisdom and knowledge failed to foresee the dimensions that the little, trivial matters could take, if not nipped in the bud. The complacency of the Kuru Guru’s yielded the most savage results that crushed the budding clans. What could have blossomed into a flourishing togetherness of two families ended up in hostility and incurable hatred.
The Kuru’s Kshetra remains in the annals of time as Kurukshetra, the battlefield which witnessed blood relations thirsty for blood of relations.
***
Gandari's Unspoken anguish:
Duryodhana’s thirst for power, his jealousy, his intolerable desire for vengeance, each trait pinched her heart. Her heart wept for her eldest son, who she knew, was at the wrong side of the rope. Behind her closed eyes she could see the wrongs he was indulging in. It was not just Duryodhana, he had pulled along with him his brothers and filled their hearts with hatred and ill-will for their cousins.
Pricks of conscience and mother's love played tug of war with her leaving her agitated and helpless. Did she ever think of reprimanding the eldest son for his uncouth behaviour? Did it not occur to her that a spark neglected would burn the house?
Gandhari, the queen of Hastinapur was pitted against Gandhari the mother of hundred children, the Kouravas.
***
“Oh God Almighty, my children are being led astray, my brother Shakuni is upto some foul play. Why would a mama (maternal uncle) fill his nephews’ heart with apathy and dislike for his blood relatives? I should talk to Duryodhana before his dislike becomes uncontrollable.
The seeds of hatred have been sown and if unhandled they could embed into his being consuming the little good that he may possess.
His raw feelings have to be handled when they are in their prime, or else if nurtured it could spread into his soul and blind him.”
Gandhari’ mind was in a whirlpool. Her love for her children was being questioned by her moral responsibility. Mother's unconditional love was at loggerheads with social values. She was perturbed, she was perplexed. Would her moral battle resolve the unpleasant encounters between the cousins?
“ Should I approach Dhritarashtra, the king of Hastinapur, or Dhritarashtra, the father of Kouravas? What would be his response as a king and as a father?” Gandhari felt as though she was at crossroads of life, directionless, confused and wearied.
“ Would he dismiss Duryodhana's acts as childish and ignorable or consider them from a king's perspective? If his fatherly affections surpass his duty towards the well being of the kingdom, everything would be at stake…… no, no, no. It could bring the downfall of Kuru Vamsha ( Kuru dynasty). Duryodhan's wrath, if unchecked, would spiral like a flame, spreading across, burning everything to ashes. Isn't it my moral duty to avert this catastrophe? But what if it is just a child’s stubbornness, a desire to win over his cousins in child’s play? Am I delving too deep and reading, perceiving what is ‘not’?”
***
Shakuni was too vile and cunning not to notice his sister’s vacillations and bewilderment. If her thoughts and worries were not put to sleep, his cunning thoughts would suffer a silent death. And he could never let go of any opportunity to instigate his favourite nephew Duryodhana against the Pandavas.
“My dear sister, the queen of Hastinapur seems to be in deep thought and that certainly is troubling her….” Shakuni’ s words astounded her.
‘Am I so transparent that he has read my fears?’ Gandhari looked at him tears welling up in her eyes.
“My dear brother, you have caught me in my thoughts. I have been thinking of meeting you and your brother-in- law, the king himself. How I wish you both could slay my baseless fears…..” Gandhari sobbed.
“Dear sister, you are the royal Kuru family, you have mothered hundred children and your grooming, upbringing is undeniably, noble and praiseworthy. What brings you such irrational thoughts? What fears you harbour in your kind heart? I am here to listen to your thoughts and offer solutions to those nagging problems that have robbed you of your sleep and smile.”
Shakuni's appeasing words swept away the fears that almost created a void between her and her children.
“Brother, may be these are baseless fears and doubts but Duryodhana's unhappiness, his anger, dislike for Pandavas is on the rise by the minute. Even if I want to brush it aside as a child's natural instinct to surpass, defeat his cousins, I see a mischievous glint in his eyes that is not fair. My motherly affection should not blind me to his weird thoughts. I perceive some untoward happenings in the future. Forewarned is forearms. As the queen of this kingdom, my duties are not limited to prince or his siblings. My responsibilities are far superior and higher than that of a mother. If I see my children treading on a path that could lead to a tumultuous future, I must rise to the occasion and snap it in the budding stage. My instinct warns me, cautions me, not all is as it seems. ‘ Fair is foul, foul us fair’......” her voice almost a whisper, her fists clenched, Gandhari was a truly concerned mother and a queen. Shakuni, for a moment, was lost in her words.
But his true character tore through his skin and emerged like a serpent and took charge of the situation that was almost slipping away from his hands.
“Dear Gandhari, it is natural for a mother to dote on children or to doubt their intentions, actions and deeds. But the royal blood that runs in their veins should not be slighted with your fears. It is humiliating your blood, your upbringing. Remember as children we used to quarrel but unite in no time. There is nothing unnatural about such actions. You are worried about something that has no roots anywhere. Trust me, I see nothing vile or uncanny in my nephew's and their intentions. They are pure and innocent. Aren't children akin to gods?
Have faith in their kingly lineage and grooming.”
He uttered each word with such conviction that Gandhari was carried away into another plane of belief and trust.
Having achieved his mission Shakuni left the royal palace. His scheming was successful. He knew he had to speed up his devious plans to fetch expected results.
***
Gandhari, now convinced that her fears were trivial, dismissed Duryodhana's small acts and deeds against Pandavas as pranks and nothing grave.
When Bhima was fed poison in his food, when Pandavas were humiliated on every occasion, Gandhari connived at every fault. It was only the mother now. the queen was lost in the vast arena of motherhood.
The self- introspection, the analysis that marked the initial fears, were obliterated by the brother's vile words. Her judgement was blinded by her motherly affection, her discretion blotted out by her faith in her cunning brother.
Her faith in blue blooded reigned supreme, at the cost of the future.
***
“Why am I so restless? What fears do I have now? Didn't Shakuni assure me about my sons’ safety and security? Their deeds and doings are going from bad to worse, no amount of chiding and reprimanding has had any impact on those deaf ears. They are crossing the line of decency and discipline. There is spite and bitterness in Duryodhana's words; he is instigating his siblings against their cousins and there is no end to their misdeeds. I have kept quiet and they have taken it as a licence to disrupt family honour. Why don't they realise that by disrespecting Pandavas they are creating a chasm that can not be bridged? Isn't that a smudge on the royal blood?”
Gandhari's worries resurfaced when she came to know about Duryodhana's attempt to kill his cousins in the house made of lac.
His atrocities were multiplying and at every juncture Lord Krishna was their saviour. Gandari's fears were as numerous as Kaurava's misdeeds.
Injustice, misjudgement, exploitation were rampant and the reason was Duryodhana and the target were Pandavas.
The worst came with the game of dice, which was a well- defined, deviously planned gambling. Shakuni gambled, Kouravas and Pandavas were the pawns, his dice was the ultimate arrow that struck the bullseye.
“ My lord, I am helpless, in the hands of destiny. Our kulvadhu( the bride of the dynasty) has been dishonoured, disrobed in the presence of the royal family and none dared to stop the atrocious act of my sons. What was the king doing when our son ordered Dussasana to drag her to the court? Why was Bheeshm pitamah silent spectator to this heinous act? How could Dronacharya, the sage, witness the disrespectful scene? Has the world gone mute? How could the universe conspire against a hapless woman? Why didn't the heavens fall? Why didn't the fire God destroy the Dice Hall? Could there be a worse situation than that was witnessed by the elite, scholarly, learned men of the royal blood?
What retribution is in store for all of us who have sinned against humanity and womanhood?
If only I had intervened when the seeds of hatred were sown, if only I could gauge my brother's evil intentions, what if I had objected strongly to the ill intentions of my off-springs…. If only….if only….
How ifs, what ifs and buts not having asked have ruined a family and have brought down wrath of gods.
Gandhari's compunction, her deep sorrow, her regret, were insignificant and purposeless in the face of the situation that couldn't be averted.
“ My failure as a mother has let the hell befall on our vamsha. A catastrophe that has destroyed the Kouravas is embedded in all those punishments that I did not impose on my children, all that love that I showered on them, knowing they did not deserve it.” Gandhari's introspection was a bit late in her life.
She knew it. The gamble that Shakuni played was not just with Pandavas, it was a dice game that took in its fold the Kuru clan bringing disaster to kith and kin of the dynasty.
Gandhari's awakening, realisation came at a time when all that remained was ruins and ashes of the Kuru vamsha.
“ My brother, Shakuni, played his evil cards with such dexterity that none suspected his foul play. His skill was masqueraded under the guise of refinery and affection. I blindfolded myself to retain my equilibrium and be impartial. But I did not realise I had shut my wisdom, my sense of right and wrong, vice and virtue and blindly believed in my fine judgement. May be my physical eye could have discerned the evil intentions of my brother and my son, but I blindfolded myself only to bring calamity to the Vamsha.
I trusted my brother more than my conscience, I let him take charge of my children an let him ruin their relationships, poison their minds, instigate them against their own blood. What is royal in us? Except the name Kuruvamsha? What makes our blood noble? Only the throne that Dhritarashtra had access to and on by virtue of his brother's absence?
What an irony of fate. His accession to the throne was destined to bring an end to the kuru dynasty.
I played my role safe as a queen and as a mother, justifying neither.
Will there be a mother like me who willingly ensnared herself? Why didn't I share my fears with Dhritarashtra? Would he have resonated with my fears and taken action against our son?
It was like crying over spilt milk, nothing could bring back the lost glory, nor the lost honour.
***
Gandhari had taken the path that many had tread on, may be mothers, maybe fathers, maybe both, deeply in love with their off-springs, to the point of ignoring their mistakes, giving in to their demands, accepting their uncouth behaviour.
***
Author's note
This narrative is what if Gandhari had taken corrective measures to discipline Kouravas, it could have changed the narrative of Mahabharata. Maybe there wouldn't have been a Kurukshetra battle.
***