by Unknown
When he reached the fort gate, the guards kept him waiting while they made various entries. They asked him irrelevant questions while his eyes scanned the palace courtyard. It seemed almost deserted. "Is His Highness not present?" he finally asked.
The guards lifted their heads and looked at each other. "Do you not know? King Jayadratha has gone to Hastinapura."
"Hastinapura! Why the hell..." he swallowed his words lest he say something insulting about his King.
"Who are we to question the King about his movements? I think he has gone to a dice game. If you have anything to convey to His Highness, you can give us the message and we will make sure he gets it once he is back. That will cost you two silver coins," the younger of the guards told him officiously. But the messenger shook his head and starting walking out.
"Hey you, you said you have a message for the King. I can pass it on for one coin," the guard cried out, but the messenger had already mounted his horse.
'Fool! Can I tell him Durjaya has slipped into Gandhara with hundreds of his men and is being trained to wreak havoc on our cities?' the spy thought as he turned north-east, towards Hastinapura. How typical! When the country was about to burn, the rulers were playing dice. To hell with being inconspicuous. He kicked his mount with a vengeance. The frothing horse, carrying the bitter and tired man, sent everyone in its path scurrying for safety as it galloped towards Hastinapura.
***
Yudhishtra touched his amulet. In the trial throws, the foreigner had not appeared to be a skilled player. Perhaps it was just beginner's luck, he thought a little uneasily. Lifting his head he said, "I wager all my golden chariots."
Shakuni rubbed the dice together. "Golden chariots, Your Highness? That would be somewhat unfair. Hastinapura has far more golden chariots than Indraprastha."
"I add my corps of trained elephants," Yudhishtra answered immediately. Nothing in his demeanour showed that his heart was thudding in his chest.
The dice rolled again.
"Bad luck, Your Highness! Your elephants and chariots are now Suyodhana's," Shakuni said with a smile.
Yudhishtra cursed under his breath. How was it possible? No one had ever worsted him in a game of dice. Arjuna whispered to his brother to stop. They had already lost a major part of their army. But Yudhishtra, stung by the smug look on the Kauravas' faces, lost his usual calm and staked his mansions, horses, gold, diamonds, treasury, cows, all the villages in his kingdom, his armoury and the wealth of his merchants.
The dice rolled again, sweeping everything from Yudhishtra's grasp in each of the next ten throws.
"Stake something worthwhile Prince, instead of a horse or a cow at a time. Then you can win big. Suyodhana is staking his position as Crown Prince. If he loses, you will be Crown Prince of Hastinapura, and King when the time comes. He will go away as a mendicant. Match that if you dare. Win and you gain an empire; if you lose...?"
Shakuni's smiling words provoked the gambler in Yudhishtra. He touched his amulet again and took a deep breath. "I wager my palace in Indraprastha."
The dice rolled for the eleventh time.
"Oh! It is not your day, Highness... you lose again!" Shakuni exclaimed in mock dismay.
Arjuna began to look grim. The smiles had vanished from the faces of Bhima, Nakula and Sahadeva. Yudhishtra sat pale and withdrawn. There was pindrop silence in the sabha. Suyodhana was overcome by sudden pity for his cousin. He had got his revenge. The Pandavas had nothing left. They would have to live on his charity. He had reduced his cousins to petty Royals without spilling a drop of blood. He stood up to end the game.
Shakuni saw it and tensed. The fool was going to spoil all his plans. But fortunately for the foreigner, Yudhishtra lifted his head and said clearly, "Cousin, do not insult me by stopping the game now. I am sure I will win in the end." The gambler in Yudhishtra had taken possession of him. Nothing mattered but the next roll of the dice. He knew with utter certainty that his luck would turn.
Suyodhana sat back, surprised by his cousin's uncharacteristic words and rashness. He knew there was no winning for the Pandavas that day, no matter how skilled a player his cousin was.
Sushasana whispered in his ear, "Why do you want to stop now? We are winning."
Suyodhana looked at his brother, who appeared almost drunk with vicarious pleasure. It was evident Sushasana had been pouring himself a drink every time he went out. "Go and sleep it off in your chamber and do not create a scene here," Suyodhana said quietly. But Sushasana only gave him a crooked grin in reply.
"I wager my brother, Nakula." Yudhishtra's voice shook.
There was a moment's stunned silence, and then the sabha erupted in talk and discussion. The dice rolled. Sushasana laughed openly when Yudhishtra lost again.
"One more throw and you could win back everything you have lost, as well as gain the throne of Hastinapura. But do you dare?" Shakuni asked Yudhishtra casually.
Arjuna placed a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder saying, "Enough! Let us go."
"No. How can I leave Nakula a slave to Duryodhana? We have to win him back," Yudhishtra replied, his eyes glittering with the fever of his addiction. He threw the dice with trembling hands. Nakula was lost. But Yudhishtra was beyond counsel now. He rolled the dice again saying, "I wager Sahadeva," and promptly lost him too.
"Fools! A foreigner is rolling the dice and you rulers of India are gambling away your country? Stop this nonsense!" Kripa, who was watching the game, could no longer control himself.
"There is nothing is wrong in gambling. Our scriptures permit it. It is the dharma of a King to play at dice." Dhaumya could not resist showing off his superior knowledge of the scriptures. Rarely did he get a chance to get back at Kripa. They glared at each other.
Kripa laughed. "Fools! Idiots!" he kept muttering as the dice rolled again and again... and Yudhishtra lost Arjuna, Bhima, and even himself. He had nothing left to wager. He and his brothers were now Suyodhana's slaves.
Shakuni turned to Dhaumya. "Tell me, great scholar, as per the smritis, does a master have the right to decide what costume his slaves should wear?"
Dhaumya squirmed, but he did not have a choice. "Whatever the master wishes, the slave must wear, but..."
"Thank you." Shakuni interrupted the Priest. He looked at Suyodhana in open invitation to take his revenge.
A few days before, Suyodhana had stood in Yudhishtra's sabha naked, while the whole world laughed at him. The wheel had turned full circle. The Pandavas had become his slaves and he could do anything with them. "Remove your clothes and stand there," he ordered his cousins while the assembly sat in stunned silence.
The Pandavas hesitated, but knew they had to obey. One by one, they took off their clothes and ornaments. Finally, they stood in their loincloths, shamed and humiliated. Karna and Aswathama's mocking laughter filled their ears, just as their mirth had burned in Suyodhana's. All the Kaurava brothers followed suit.
Shakuni was watching Suyodhana nervously. He feared his nephew would magnanimously return everything to his cousins now that his thirst for revenge had been satisfied. He quickly made his master move. "Would you like to wager anything on a last throw, Yudhishtra?"
The Pandava did not miss that the Gandhara Prince was now calling him by his name. He was a slave and people could call him anything they liked. How could astrology be so wrong? He had followed everything the Priests had said and still Suyodhana had won. "There is nothing left to wager," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.
"Have you forgotten your most prized possession, Yudhishtra?" Shakuni gazed at his opponent in surprise. "You could win back everything by staking her. She is your lucky charm, is she not? Your astrologers cannot be wrong. It is a science after all. So far luck has favoured me but one right throw and you could win back not only what you have lost, but gain the kingdom of Hastinapura too. Who can predict how the dice will roll the next time?"
"He is afraid, Uncle," Sushasana said, slurring his words. As an afterthought he
added, "Poor slave".
Yudhishtra could bear the humiliation no longer. "I wager my wife," he said softly, his heart hammering in his chest. He had to try one more throw. Surely, the Gods would smile on his courage?
The words hit Arjuna like a punch in his face. How dared Yudhishtra do this? He wanted to scream that it was he who had won Draupadi with his skill and valour. His brother had merely followed their mother's wishes, justifying his action based on some obscure smritis. What right had he to gamble Draupadi and play his dangerous games? Yet, when he looked at the broken man before him, he could not bring himself to ask that cruel question.
"The wife who is common to all of you... am I right?" Shakuni asked, gently rubbing salt into their wounded hearts. Not one of the Pandavas replied.
Vidhura was unable to stand by in silence any longer. In desperation, he appealed to the Grand Regent. "Sir, stop this before it gets worse."
But Bhishma just shook his head and said, "If a man is a fool, not even God can save him. How can we entrust a kingdom to a gambler? Nobody forced him to play. He played because of greed and he is now paying the price. That is nature's way of eliminating the undeserving. Do not interfere."
"Guru," Shakuni addressed Dhaumya again, "this slave wants to wager his wife, who is also wife to all his brothers. Can a man wager his wife? What do your smritis say?"
Dhaumya wished he could turn and flee the accursed place, but knew he had to answer the question or lose face. "Hmm... if a man is in distress, he may sell, pawn or stake his house, wife, children, and cows, in that order. A woman is essentially not entitled to freedom, as she is her husband's property. But that..."
"Thank you." Shakuni bowed to Dhaumya before he could go into an explanation to suit Yudhishtra.
But Dhaumya was not concerned about Yudhishtra losing his crown. It was a temporary setback. When one ruler went, another came to fill his place. Kings were merely puppets in the hands of the Priests. Now that this puppet had become unusable, it was time to find a new one to play the game. So he continued watching the unfolding drama with interest, hoping he would not be called upon to make any further statements. Silence would serve him best.
"We accept your wager," Shakuni said.
Kripa laughed again, irritating everyone. Truly, one cannot save a fool, he thought.
"Twelve!" cried Shakuni.
"Eight," Yudhishtra said in a shaking voice.
Yudhishtra said a fervent prayer as the dice spun viciously. The words were wasted. In the duel between a lucky amulet and the skill developed over three decades of dedicated practise, the latter won handsomely.
"Aha, Draupadi is ours," Shakuni said in triumph. Sushasana got up eagerly but rather unsteadily.
"Guru, what caste does a slave belongs to? Are they above Sutas?" Shakuni asked with a humble look, craving enlightenment.
Dhaumya looked at the Gandhara Prince and said weakly, "Slaves do not have any caste. They are Untouchables."
"Really!" exclaimed Shakuni unctuously. "So you say they are now Untouchables? That Arjuna is a slave? That big-bellied Bhima is a slave, as are the handsome twins? And, of course, this Son of Dharma is now an Untouchable too? Do you advise us to have the palace cleaned with cow dung? Now Karna will have to take a bath if he touches any of the Pandavas."
Expressing the hurt and bitterness only a man spurned by the woman he loves can feel, Karna said, "Bring out the woman who shares her bed with five men. Let us all see what our slave looks like." Draupadi's words, 'I will not marry a Suta' and her taunt to him to drive away the naked Suyodhana in his chariot, returned to sear Karna's mind.
Suyodhana looked at Karna in surprise. His heart went out to his friend. How deeply Karna must have suffered to be so uncharacteristically cruel. He caught Aswathama's eye. The Brahmin was shaking his head, trying to tell him they had gone too far.
"Have you forgotten her laughter, nephew? Have you forgotten the day you stood unclothed and ridiculed?" Shakuni whispered to Suyodhana.
His uncle's words poured oil on the embers of the fire in Suyodhana's mind. The flames leapt up again. "Bring Draupadi here," he commanded.
Vidhura pleaded again with Bhishma to stop the insanity. But the Grand Regent sat in unmoved silence.
***
"What is he doing, Sanjaya?" Dhritarashtra gripped his scribe's wrist.
"Your son wishes to drag your nephew's wife to the sabha, Your Highness," Sanjaya replied in his characteristic flat tone, not offering any opinion. His job was to describe what he saw to the blind King, not to comment on affairs of State and the actions of those more important than he.
The King's tortured thoughts roiled in his brain. Where had Gandhari gone? What was she doing in the temple when she was needed here? Why was Suyodhana doing this? Surely, it was because of the company he kept. He was doing it for that Suta, or perhaps that Brahmin boy. 'Should I stop this farce and risk losing everything Shakuni has won for my son?' he wondered frantically. Why was the wise, know-it-all Bhishma silent? The King tightened his grip on Sanjaya's wrist and gazed at the sabha with unseeing eyes.
***
"That boy has style. It is just a matter of time before Dwaraka falls," Takshaka said as he watched the vanishing column of dust from a rocky overhang in the jungle. Kaliya agreed with his leader as usual. The army led by Ekalavya, Shalva, and Dhantavakra, was rushing towards Dwaraka.
Vasuki, leaning on his crooked staff nearby, kept scanning the horizon with his shortsighted eyes, his hand lifted against the glare of the setting sun. The heat was oppressive and two channels of sweat ran down Vasuki's cragged face. "There they come!" he exclaimed suddenly. Takshaka and Kaliya turned towards the direction Vasuki pointed to.
"Krishna, your story ends today," Takshaka laughed.
Vasuki, gazing intently at the approaching column, did not join in the Naga leader's joy. The speck on the Eastern horizon soon grew into a column of galloping cavalry. Takshaka raised his sword high in the air. Its tip caught the red rays of the setting sun. His men, hidden in the bushes and rocks behind him, saw the signal and grew alert. He heard them getting ready. Takshaka stood unmoving, with his sword raised high. He knew his men were watching his every move. Vasuki and Kaliya clambered down from the rock.
"Remember Khandiva!" Takshaka shouted, pointing with his sword at the fast approaching cavalry. He smiled at the anger he knew he had aroused in the ranks. Dramatically, he raised both hands. "Success to the revolution!" he yelled. Hundreds of throats answered the war cry as Takshaka jumped down from the rock and rolled into his hiding place.
As darkness crept in, they waited with drawn bowstrings, for Krishna and his men to reach them.
***
Balarama sat cross-legged in his prayer room. His wife Revati stood outside the closed door, ignoring the bawling of the two-year-old Valsala. Where was Krishna? Had he been here, there would not have been any dilemma. She could hear the murmuring of members of the Yadava Council, outside the chamber. They had been waiting since morning for Balarama to make a decision. She knew the mental torture her husband was suffering. For a man who believed in non-violence and loved the people he ruled more than anything else in the world, it was a tough call.
Revati picked up little Valsala and tried to pacify her. On a normal day, she would have taken the child to the window and distracted her with the sights and sounds of the bustling city outside. But today was not a normal day. A sense of foreboding hung in the air. The usually busy streets were deserted. Dwaraka was under siege. Revati kissed her daughter, pulling the little fingers gently to make her giggle. An elephant trumpeted from the far end of the fort and the call was answered by another. Valsala tried to wriggle out of her mother's arms. She was fond of elephants. The mahouts would be preparing the war elephants, Revati thought, her heart sinking at the thought of war.
The door of the prayer room opened suddenly. Revati gasped at the sight of her husband standing with his mace over his shoulder. She rushed forward, tears blinding her. "You sa
id you believed in non-violence. You said you would never touch any weapon again. Then why are you doing this?"
"What choice does a man of honour have, Revati?" he asked her as he put down the mace and picked up his daughter, kissing the child on both cheeks. The girl tugged at his earrings and smiled happily.
Revati took Valsala from her husband. He embraced her as she pressed her head to his broad chest, and stifled a sob. She knew there was no power in heaven that could turn him from his purpose.
