Mahabharata Transcreated

One hopes that a succeeding volume will make available to the English-speaking world the peripheral episodes which, nevertheless, are integral parts of the Vyasan universe. Take, for instance. the stories of Savitri-Satyavan, Ruru – Pramadvara, Jaratkaru – Astika, Agastya-Lopamudra, Kacha- Devayani, Dushyanta-Shakuntala, and; above-all, the account of Yayati, the ancestor of the Kauravas, whose original sin torments generation after generation till they are destroyed by that ‘expense of spirit in a waste of shame’ which is ‘lust in action’. These provide certain leitmotifs which run as unifying themes linking the apparently chaotic medley of episodes.

To the modern reader, who has neither the time, nor perhaps the incli­nation, to seek out the indiscent Ariadne’s thread in the bewildering laby­rinth of this epic, P. Lal’s approach is richly rewarding. His condensation differs markedly from those of Dutt, Raja­gopalachari, R.K. Narayan and Kamala Subramanyam in that he does not ‘re­tell’. Lal is the only ‘condenser’ who also transcreates and gives us the epic in Vyasa’s own words. Moreover, it is not his intention to narrate merely the essential story of the fratricidal war. He also intends to communicate the ‘feel’ of the epic; that ineffable flavour which transforms {sordid account of a bloody clan-war into the Mahabharata. With this end in view, Lal incorpo­rates a number of incidents which do not appear, at first to have any link with the central story. For example, there is the Arjunaka-serpent-Gautami episode in the 13th Book, the memorable parable of the Drop of Honey related by Vidura to Dhritarashtra in Book 11, and the repeated exhortation regarding Ahimsa in this violent epic—so violent that, traditionally, it was prohibited reading for nubile women.

The Lal condensation is distinguished by the inimitable choice of passages from the original which no other abridgement has incorporated. Thus, in the begin­ning of Book 12 is Yudhishthira’s lament over Karna’s death: ‘Even when Karna spoke harshly to us in the palace assem­bly room, my anger cooled when my eyes fell by chance on his feet. They were our mother Kunti’s feet’ And he goes on to utter highly significant words to Arjuna which sum up the existential angst at the root of the epic: ‘We have squab­bled like a pack of dogs over a piece of meat, and we have won—and the meat has lost its savour. The meat is thrown aside, the dogs have forgotten it.’ This is precisely, what the epic is about-or, at least, one of the many things it is about. This theme of a pyrrhic victory in which the victors ‘instead of gust chew bitter ashes’ is stressed again and again in passages omitted in other condens­ations: ‘Enjoy the barren world – it is now yours’, says Duryodhana, alone at bay like a bear at the stake surrounded by snarling, slavering Pandava hounds, ‘You have a world to yourself, a world without friends, horses, chariots, ele­phants, forts. Enjoy her.’ Significantly, Vyasa records that Yudhishthira shouted (completely out of character), ‘You rave like a madman’—for this is the desper­ate refusal to face the truth, the grinning skull, the absurdity of life, by drowning it out in lung-power. But truth will out, and out it comes in the very end, in Yudhisthira’s vision of his kinsmen in hell while his enemies loll in celestial couches. This is the climactic episode of the theme which is stated un­compromisingly just before the holocaust begins. Arjuna states blandly that the war is being fought neither for avenging Draupadi, nor for ‘dharma’, but for an extremely mundane, selfish and sordid objective: Land. Arjuna’s query to Krishna is precisely this: why destroy’ one’s kith and kin for so petty a thing as land?

If, then, the epic is such a sordid affair, what lends it memorability and relevance today? It is those situations where characters are shorn of all their trappings and face the ultimate test: they are forced to play chess with death. Such is the drama tic moment when time stands still as Yudhishthira answers the Yaksha of the take over the corpses of his broth­ers. Such is the incident where Yudhis­hthira, again, replies to Nahusha-turned­-python with the invincible Bhima in his maw. And such, yet again, is that trem­endous scene where Yudhishthira faces Indra and refuses to give up his canine companion for heaven. Then there are those other intensely human episodes true for all time: the confrontation between Kunti and Karna as she begs him to join her other sons; Draupadi putting the entire Kaurava peerage to shame in the Assembly Hall with an unanswerable question; Draupadi’s upalambha to Bhima after Kichakahas kicked her in Virata’s court; Arjuna facing his brothers then he returns to find Abhimanyu slain; Amba, rejected by Saubhya, facing Devavrata­Gangeya-Bhishma. It is man in all his passionate intensity, all the blood, toil and tears that makes up this short and brutish life. And yet it is man who questions the Divine, wrestles with him, as Arjuna with Shiva physically, or intellectually as Arjuna with Krishna, till God has no answer and replies to logic with magic to stun him into sub­mission as Jehovah did to Job out of the whirlwind. It is all this which lends this sometime-ballad of the Bharata clan its epical dimensions and eternal appeal.

The selection of incidents from the original for inclusion in this condensation is itself a feature which distinguishes it from other condensations. The choice is carefully ‘guided by Lal’s over-view of certain recurring themes or patterns. Take, for instance, the Gila itself, which is missing from most of the other abridgements. Lal carefully incor­porates a dialogue between Draupadi and Yudhishthira in the forest which looks forward to the philosophy of nishkama karma and of carrying out what one’s dharma dictates. Moreover, this is a passage providing rare insights into the respective speakers, which readers of other condensations have missed. Again, there is the episode of the sage Brihadashva’s visit to the exiled princes which appears unneces­sary. On closer examination the links with the plot become clear. This sage imparts to Yudhishthira expertise in gambling, which is of crucial importance for maintaining his disguise in Virata’s court. It is also skillfully placed imme­diately after Urvashi’s cursing Arjuna with eunuch-hood, another boon for the period of ‘exile-in-disguise’. A valuable inclusion is Karna’s retelling of a dream to Krishna which is missing from all other abridgements, for it is completely in consonance with Lal’s awareness of the underlying theme of pyrrhic victory: ‘I saw you (Krishna) in that dream, busy scattering weapons of war on the blood-red earth. Then I saw Yudhishthira standing on a heap of bones, gladly licking thick sweet curd from a golden plate’.

A remarkable quality of the Lal con­densation is the effortless shifting from prose to verse according to the demands of the original. The use of verse in des­cribing Hidimba’s honeymoon, the Pandavas’ stay in Dvaitavana, Bhima’s obtaining the golden lotus and the description of the rains, help to create and communicate the other-worldly and idyl­lic flavour of the original. On another unforgettable occasion Lal changes with a sure touch from prose to verse to describe Urvashi approaching Arjuna as abhisarika.

In the deepening twilight and early moonrise,

she left for Arjuna’s house.

In her soft braids were clusters of flowers;

Delicate eye gestures and a moon-rivalling face.

As she walked, her full sandal-scented breasts,

Finely curved, supporting a gold necklace,

Trembled;

The weight of her breasts bent her three-fold waist

She stooped at every step.

Lovely her loins, abode of Kamadeva,

High and round her hips, hill-shaped her lower

region, adorned with gold chains, —

Sensuous seduction for a saint;

Her feet flat-soled,

Her toes copper-bright and curved like tortoise shells,

Tinkling with little bells;

Her breath slightly heady with wine and desire;

Her dress a fine and filmy cloth,

Through which glowed her body like the moon through cloud.

The delicate nuances can hardly be communicated in prose. Other conden­sations severely curtail this passage thereby detracting from the light it throws on Arjuna’s character in standing firm against such temptation. Verse is also used for rendering solemn ritualistic passages such as Sanjaya consoling the blind monarch, the women wailing over the corpse-strewn field, Gandhari upbraiding Krishna, and the tremendous calling-up of ghosts of the departed by Vyasa out of the waters of the Bhagirathi in a translation sugges­tive of the Odyssey.

No other translator of the epic has taken such pains to adhere faithfully to the original and thereby provide a crucial hint about the preservation of ‘Draupadi’s chastity in the Assembly Hall. Lal very faithfully renders the original thus: ‘And even as she prayed for Krishna’s help, the god Dharma re-clothed her in multi-coloured dresses’. Dharma is Vidura’s most common appellative. We also recol­lect that Dharma is the first ‘god’ to whom Kunti turns for begetting a son in accordance with the niyoga sanction of the husband’s younger brother having the first right to father a child. It is Vidura who saves his daughter-in-law’s ponour, for, of all those present, it is he whom it touches most as Yudhisthira’s father.

Lal’s faithfulness to the original affords valuable insights into characters which other condensations miss out. For example in the svayamvara of Draupadi, her joy at the brahmin-Arjuna’s success vis-a-vis her disgust at the Suta-Karna’s entering the contest reveals a. certain alste snobbery. Lal carefully brings out Yudhishthira’s cussed mule-headedness in his insistence on sparing the rapist Jayadratha, and in his offering to surrender the kingdom if any of the Pandavas are worsted by Duryodhana in a duel. Krishna’s furious berating of such woolly-thinking is often missing in con­densations; ‘It was foolish of you to gamble away our advantage now, just as you gambled everything away to Shakuni.’ It is Bhima who saves the situation once again by insulting Duryo­dhana so grossly that he challenges him to a duel. As for Krishna, the Lal version shrewdly catches the nuances of how he resorts to action or magic when words fail: Sishupala hits home with the allega­tion of Krishna’s rape of Rukmini, his affianced bride, and Krishna slices off his head instead of justifying himself; Arjuna’s questioning on the battlefield and is stunned with the Vishvarupa. Most interesting of all is Krishna’s inability to recreate the Gita experi­ence when requested by Arjuna before he leaves them after the war: ‘I could not now recall what I said then, even if I wished. How will I get all the details right?’ There is the bland, astoni­shing statement of Bhishma and Drona, also omitted in other abdridgements, ex­plaining why they fight for Duryodhana: ‘A man is the slave of wealth though wealth is no one’s slave. The wealth of the Kauravas binds me to them’

Then there is that solitary and invalu­able glimpse into Draupadi’s heart as she wails to Bhima in Virata’s court: ‘Any woman married to Yudhishthira would be afflicted with many griefs. . .. What does Yudhishthira do? He plays dice … Look at Arjuna … A hero with earrings! … You saved me from Jaya­dratha … and from Jatasura … I shall take .poison and die in your arms Bhima’ This is the source of Iravati Karve’s brilliant exposition of Draupadi’s thoughts as she lies dying and murmurs to Bhima, who though himself dying has dragged himself to her side to ask if he could do anything for her, ‘Aryaputra, in the next birth, be born the eldest!’. It is inclusion of such incidents and rendering them with careful exactitude which make the Lal version uniquely valuable. In addition there is the sheer readability of the transcreation.

There are, however, a number of omissions which detract from the plot interest in this condensation. Thus, we are not told why the Vasus were cursed to be born as Shantanu’s sons which is included in Rajagopalachari’s version, nor how the fish-odorous Satyavati acquires the lotus-scent which draws the king to her. There is a contradiction between pages 78 and 81 between who was born first and who was conceived first—Yudhishthira or Duryodhana. The Ekalavya episode does not mention how this rejected pupil used to practise archery before a clay-statue of Drona. Drona’s birth is also omitted though it provides insight into why he is virtually caste-less and spurned by Drupada. Page 94 also conveys a mistranslation: the Pandavas do not flee to Varanavata on Vidura’s advice; rather they go there on the suggestion of Dhritarasthra and flee from there with Vidura’s help. In the exile, the killing of Vaka is omit­ted with its unique picture of the poverty­-stricken Brahmin family and the remor­seless scrutiny of family relationships.

The Machiavellian strategy of Krishna in deliberately throwing Ghatotkacha as bait to attract Kama’s infallible weapon, is similarly missing—an unfortunate omission. The, atrocious killing of Bhuri­sravas by Arjuna and Satyaki which is referred to on p. 350, is another uncal­led for omission. The most critical lapse occurs on p. 336. Here, at the end of Yudhishthira’s horse-sacrifice, a pecu­liar half golden mongoose appears, who declares that all is nothing beside a virtuous Brahmin’s offering of a grain of rice. Lal unaccountably omits the story which the mongoose relates here, which makes the speech with which Book 14 ends trite and inex­plicable for the reader. This story, which celebrates the duty of the householder to the guest even at the cost of him and his family is one of the most memorable ones in the epic. There is also the cryptic reference on p. 77, to Gandhari having once sheltered Vyasa when he was dying from hun₆er, which is not expanded and finds no support in the original. The story of Shikhandin-Amba’s birth is also left out, though referred to on p. 225. It is important as one of the threads which link the Adi to the Bhishma Parva: Amba is the hamartia in Bhishma’s tragedy, and therefore deserved inclusion. The Arjuna-Shiva encounter is another mem­orable incident which has been omitted.

What detracts most from the appeal of this book is the eight calender-illus­trations gratuitously provided by the publishers. These are pavement artist’s interpretations hardly befitting Vyasa’s monumental work. The glaring contrast of colours and the total lack of authen­ticity (Draupadi wears a modern blouse when Vyasa says she was clad only in a single cloth; the Pandavas are shown in buttoned up coats when the epic states they lost even their upper garments; Bhima sports a moustache when, accor­ding to Vyasa, he was hairless) is shock­ing. One hopes that in subsequent editions these will be excluded.

What is the final impression with which this condensation-cum-transcrea­tion leaves us? It is the anguished cry of a man who has witnessed his progeny slaughter one another in insane strife:-

I raise my arms and I shout—

­but no one listens!

From dharma comes success and

pleasure:

Why is dharma not practiced?

This is the story of Vyasa and his descendants, all corrupted with that single consuming weakness-lust. With unerring instinct Lal has incorporated in his condensation a speech by Pandu which touches the core of this tragic flaw—a speech which most condensers drop— ‘Addiction to lust killed my mother’s husband, though the virtuous Shantanu gave him birth. And though truth—speaking Vyasa is my father, lust consumes me too’. The seed of lust runs through both sides of the family. It consumes Shantanu who mar­ries a fisherwoman in his dotage, depriv­ing his kingdom of its rightful and able heir, Devavrata. The child of his old age carries the same weakness, and Vichitra­virya dies of over-indulgence in. sex. Satyavati herself is a product of the king Uparichara’s lust, and the sage Vyasa is born of Parashara’s insistence on con­summating his passion mid-stream in the boat Satyavati is plying. To go back further, Shantanu is descended from Yayati, the archetypal figure of the vic­tim of lust, whose story is fraught with unforgettable poignance and the reason for Shantanu’s birth is his having looked lustfully on Ganga in Brahma’s court when the wind uplifted her dress. The birth of Pandu is itself marred because Satyavati refuses to put her daughters­in-law through the year-long preparatory penance which Vyasa advise. They await their brother-in-law Bhishma lust­fully, and the advent of Vyasa is un­welcome; the union inevitably produces flawed progeny. And the curse pursues the entire family. It is, indeed, the supreme irony of the epic that the person who becomes the de facto ruler at the end is Yuyutsut, son of Dhritarashtra by a maid. The royal lineage is extinct. No wonder Vyasa cries out in despair at the end of this engrossing epic at man’s deliberate rejection of salvation and his remorseless working out of the tragic flaw ingrained deep within him driving him to destruction.

Pradip Bhattacharya is Deputy Director, Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie.