novelraw Arc 1 - Saṃjaya-yāna Parava Chapter 7 - Wrath or Wisdom
Arc 1 - Saṃjaya-yāna Parava Chapter 7 - Wrath or Wisdom
Vaiśampāyana said:
Then Sañjaya, son of Gāvalgana, gazed upon Yudhiṣṭhira—the steadfast son of Dharma—and spoke words of deep restraint and wisdom, his tone soft yet piercing like a wind through sacred groves.
“O son of Pṛthā,” said he, “the world has heard of thy conduct and found it righteous; I too behold it so. Life is fleeting, O Ajātaśatru—it endeth swiftly, leaving behind the ashes of pride and the shadow of infamy. Consider this, and choose not the path that leads to ruin.
If peace can be purchased by humility, then better it is to live upon alms among the Andhakas and Vṛṣṇis than to buy sovereignty with the blood of kinsmen.
For life is but a trembling flame,
Fed by breath and quenched by time.
What joy can dwell in kingship’s crown,
If it rests upon a slaughtered line?
This mortal body, O king, is unstable, ever afflicted, and bound to decay. Yet men, enslaved by desire, dream of permanence in what is perishing. Desire, O ruler of men, clings to the heart like mire upon a lotus stalk. The wise man should uproot it before it flowers into sin, and by such detachment win stainless fame.
Desire is a fetter, wealth its chain;
He that seeks it, suffers again and again.
But he who walks the path of dharma’s fire,
Shines like the sun, untouched by mire.
Virtue, O king, is the highest good. Without it, power is poison; with it, even poverty is wealth. The man who places dharma above pleasure and gain blazes like the midday sun, while he who abandons virtue, though crowned with gold, falls into darkness.
Thou hast studied the Vedas, performed sacrifices, honoured Brahmanas, and walked the path of renunciation; yet even one such as thee, who hath seen the vanity of pleasure, must beware. For the man who clings to enjoyment after his wealth is spent becomes slave to habit and is driven to misery by his own longing.
Know that in the next world deeds never die. They go before the soul like lamps in the dark, lighting the road to its own reward or ruin. As savoury food is offered to the Brahmanas in sacrifice, so are noble deeds the oblations of life—each act a fragrance that outlives the flesh.
When the body falls like a garment worn,
Only one’s deeds remain to adorn;
Good or evil, bright or pale—
They lead the soul beyond the veil.
O son of Pāṇḍu, there is a realm where there is no hunger or fear, no grief or decay. There, one delights only in truth. Seek that realm by self-restraint, not by wrath and sword. Abstain from actions that soil the soul; even a thousand sacrifices cannot cleanse a heart corrupted by anger.
If now, after years of endurance, thou turnest to hate, then in vain wert thou patient in exile. In vain didst thou forgo thy armies, when thy strength and allies were thine to command. Then thou mightest have crushed Duryodhana’s pride, with Keśava and Arjuna beside thee, while thy foes yet trembled in their youth. Why now, when time has armed them with power, dost thou kindle the embers of war?
To strike when wrath is hot is folly;
To strike when wisdom cools is sin.
Patience once abandoned midway
Brings no harvest, only ruin within.
The unwise may win brief glory by blood, but the wise man, if he strays from righteousness, loses both peace and honour. Thy nature inclineth not to evil, O son of Dharma; thou hast never acted from wrath. Why, then, wouldst thou now forsake the calm of wisdom?
Wrath, O king, is a venomous draught—
it bringeth no cure but breeds a fever of the mind.
It robbeth one of fame and leadeth unto sin;
the righteous drink it down, the unrighteous are consumed by it.
Swallow thy anger, O son of truth,
And turn thy heart to peace again.
For the fire of rage, though fierce in youth,
Leaves naught but ashes and bitter pain.
Why stain thy hands in the blood of Bhīṣma and Droṇa, of Kripa and Aśvatthāman, of Somadatta’s son, of Vikarna and Karṇa, and even of Duryodhana? Having slain them all, what joy shall remain for thee? Even if thou conquerest the sea-girt earth, thou wilt still be subject to age and death, to pleasure and pain. Knowing this, what victory is there in war?
If, however, thou art drawn to this course by the counsel of others, then, O Yudhiṣṭhira, yield all to them and depart. Forsake the field and keep thy virtue; for the path of peace leads to the region of the gods, while the road of wrath ends only in dust and tears.”
Vaiśampāyana said:
Then Yudhiṣṭhira, son of Dharma, calm in mind and firm in conviction, replied to Sañjaya with words that were slow, reasoned, and luminous with wisdom. His face shone like the morning sun breaking through the mists of doubt.
“O Sañjaya,” said he, “what thou hast spoken of righteousness is indeed true;
yet righteousness itself must be understood, lest ignorance masquerade as virtue.
For when vice puts on the robe of virtue, and virtue itself seems veiled as sin,
the wise must discern by the light of reason alone what truly is the path of dharma.
When right and wrong exchange their hue,
When day seems night, and night seems true,
Then must the wise, with steady sight,
Seek dharma’s flame amid the blight.
Virtue and vice, though eternal, change their faces in times of distress. The conduct ordained for each order of men must bend, when necessity—like a storm—tears through the ordered forest of duty. He who, when destitute, clings blindly to a code meant for the prosperous, errs as deeply as one who, though in wealth, feigns distress. Dharma itself declares: when all means of life are gone, one may seek new means to uphold what is right.
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When hunger gnaws and fortune dies,
Then duty shifts, and mercy lies.
For dharma’s tree bends with the gale,
Yet breaks not—though the winds assail.
The Creator Himself ordained penance and expiation for Brāhmaṇas who, in misery, act beyond their rule. This shows that necessity hath its sanction, and that the path of survival, when guided by faith, is not sin. Therefore, O Sañjaya, both he who follows the practices of his order in peaceful times, and he who forsakes them in distress for the sake of higher right—both are to be honoured. But he who acts otherwise—who neglects his order in peace and pretends to it in trouble—is censurable.
As for those who seek the knowledge of the Self, their way is one with the Brāhmaṇas,
for the knowledge of ātman is the true yajña, and restraint the true oblation.
But those who seek not that higher path must act according to their caste duties,
in times of ease and hardship alike, as did our fathers and their fathers before them.
This, O Sañjaya, is the way of the world—the old and eternal road trodden by the righteous. Even those ascetics who withdraw from action and claim to know the soul follow this truth: that dharma is one, though its paths are many.
Therefore, I see no other course than this—the way of rightful action according to time and circumstance.
Whatever treasure there may be on earth or among the gods,
whatever heaven lies beyond the grasp of Indra or Brahmā—
none of these would I, O Sañjaya, seek by unrighteous means.
For wealth and heaven alike are fleeting,
but the fragrance of virtue abides forever.
What joy in crowns or heavenly fame,
If righteousness be lost in name?
Better to walk the thorned path right,
Than stray through gardens in false delight.
Here stands Kṛṣṇa, O Sañjaya—the giver of dharma’s fruit,
the counsellor of kings, the refuge of the wise,
skilled in policy, profound in wisdom,
ever watchful of the Brahmanas, and knower of all that is and shall be.
Let him declare whether my turning from peace is sin,
or whether to fight is the path ordained for my birth.
For Kṛṣṇa seeketh the welfare of both sides,
and his heart holdeth no deceit.
These heroes—Sātyaki, the Chedis, the Andhakas, the Vṛṣṇis, the Bhojas, the Kukuras, and the Śṛñjayas—all follow Kṛṣṇa’s counsel. Led by his wisdom, they destroy their foes and uphold the cause of dharma.
Look, O Sañjaya, upon the glory of the Vṛṣṇis and Andhakas—
with Ugrasena at their head, they shine like Indra’s host—
truthful, valiant, and content beneath the guidance of Keśava.
And see too the king of Kāśī, Vabhru,
who, having taken Kṛṣṇa—the fulfiller of all desires—as his brother,
hath prospered as the earth prospers under the first rains of spring.
So great is Kṛṣṇa—whose grace makes kings as gods,
and whose friendship is the highest blessing life may yield.
He is the lamp that shows the way,
The storm that clears the cloud of grey;
Where Kṛṣṇa stands, no darkness stays—
For truth itself is in his gaze.
Therefore, O Sañjaya, know that in Kṛṣṇa’s judgment lies my trust.
He is dear to us, the highest among men,
and never have I disregarded his counsel—
for in his voice speaks the wisdom of dharma itself.”
Vaiśampāyana said:
Then Vāsudeva Kṛṣṇa, lotus-eyed and grave as a thundercloud at rest, answered Sañjaya before the gathered kings. His words were cool as shade, yet edged with the heat of truth.
“O Sañjaya,” he said, “my heart seeks but one end—that the sons of Pāṇḍu not be ruined, that they prosper and obtain what is justly theirs; and that Dhṛtarāṣṭra too, with his many sons, should find a safe and honorable peace. Ever have I held that peace is acceptable to the old king, and fitting also for Pāṇḍu’s sons. Yudhiṣṭhira has shown a forbearance rare in this world. Yet when Dhṛtarāṣṭra and his sons clutch at gain with covetous hands, why should enmity not rise high as the monsoon tide?
Thou canst not claim, O Sañjaya, to be more schooled than I—or than Yudhiṣṭhira—in the subtleties of right and wrong. Why then reproach one who, from the first, has kept his family’s good in view and walked the straight road as the śāstras teach?
Some praise action as the stair to heaven,
Some call pure knowledge the single way;
But hunger is not stilled by talk,
Nor thirst by hymns one does not drink.
Even the seers declare: knowledge of food does not allay hunger; the fruit of knowledge that aids action alone is seen by the eyes. The thirsty drink and are satisfied—this is the visible power of work. Fire burns by work; the sleepless earth bears by work; rivers hasten, giving joy to beings, by work; the wind moves, the sun rises and divides the day and night—by work. The gods themselves grow by sacrifice, which is work sanctified.
Indra rose by vow and toil,
Forsook soft beds, embraced the rule;
By truth, restraint, and steadfast deeds
He won the lordship of the gods.
So too Bṛhaspati, ruling his senses, ascended by austerity and rightful work; so do the Rudras, Ādityas, Vasus, Yama, and Kubera stand in their stations by deeds; so do shining constellations hold their courses; so do the saints blaze with study yoked to labour.
Knowing thus the rule of the best among Brāhmaṇas, Kṣatriyas, and Vaiśyas, why, O wise Sañjaya, plead now for those who trespass? Thou knowest Yudhiṣṭhira: he studies Veda, longs for the aśvamedha and rājasūya; yet he mounts the car, bears armour, draws the bow, and handles every weapon. If the sons of Pṛthā can find a path that avoids the slaughter of the Kurus, they will take it; their virtue will be saved and merit won—even if Bhīma must be restrained to the ways of gentleness. But if, treading the road of their forefathers under the press of fate, they meet death while doing their utmost duty, that death is worthy of praise.
Say then, where does śāstra lead—
Should a king refrain or fight?
Duty is not guessed by fear;
It’s weighed by caste and time and right.
Hear the scheme of dharma as it stands:
A Brāhmaṇa should study, sacrifice, teach, receive, and serve as priest for the worthy, and tread the pilgrim’s road to holy places.A Kṣatriya must protect the people by law, give in charity, sacrifice, study, take a wife, and keep a house in virtue—thus may he reach the Supreme.A Vaiśya should study and lawfully gain by trade, by fields, by kine; pleasing Brāhmaṇas and Kṣatriyas, he works and keeps his house in righteousness.A Śūdra serves the twice-born, is diligent, and does what brings his good; study and sacrifice are forbidden him from of old.The king is guardian of these orders. Impartial, continent, he must never bow to cravings against the law. If there be one more praiseworthy than himself—renowned and virtuous—the king should point the people to such a man. A bad king cannot comprehend this; waxing inhuman, fattened on others’ wealth, he provokes war. For that end—Indra forged mail and bows, ordained weapons—to cut down plunderers. There is merit in slaying the armed robber.
Look now upon the harvest of Kuru adharma. Dhṛtarāṣṭra has seized what was Pāṇḍu’s by right, scorning the immemorial law of kings. What difference lies between the thief who steals unseen and the one who snatches in the eye of day? From avarice he names his wrath “righteousness” and calls injustice “law.” The share of the Pāṇḍavas is fixed; why should that fool covet it?
Better an honourable death in battle
Than a kingdom begged from strangers’ hands;
A father’s realm outranks a gift,
For duty roots in native lands.
These time-honoured maxims, O Sañjaya, set before the Kurus in the assembly—those dull-headed men whom Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son has gathered, already gripped by death. And remind them of their vilest deed—the hall of dice—when Bhīṣma sat and elders watched as Draupadī, pure and famed, was dragged in tears by a slave of lust. Had the Kurus then restrained that outrage, I would have praised Dhṛtarāṣṭra, and it had been for his sons’ own good. Vidura alone spoke righteous words; the rest were dumb with folly. Thou didst not then recite law and morality, Sañjaya—yet now thou wouldst school the son of Pāṇḍu.
It was Kṛṣṇā herself who steadied that oceanic calamity—like a strong ship upon the heaving sea, she saved the Pāṇḍavas and herself from engulfing shame. And there, while she stood, Karṇa’s bitter dart of words struck: ‘Choose another lord—thy husbands are no more.’ That arrow of speech lodged deep in Arjuna’s heart. Duhśāsana’s taunts, Śakuni’s snare—thou knowest all those foul insults cast that day.
Therefore I would go myself to the Kurus to bring this knotted matter to peace. If, without injury to the Pāṇḍava cause, I can broker amity, great merit will be done, and the Kurus will be drawn from death’s net. I hope that when I speak—words rooted in righteousness, sensible, and free from cruelty—Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son will heed them in my presence. I hope, too, they will receive me with the honour due, when I arrive. Else know this: those vicious sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, already scorched by their own deeds, will be burned to ash by Arjuna and Bhīma, eager for the field.
Harsh were the words the Kurus spoke
When dice had stripped the Pāṇḍus bare;
Bhīma will count each syllable,
And weigh them out in iron there.
Behold Duryodhana—a great tree of evil passions; Karṇa its trunk; Śakuni its branching guile; Duhśāsana its heavy fruit; and Dhṛtarāṣṭra—sad to say—its root. But Yudhiṣṭhira is a mighty tree of righteousness; Arjuna its trunk; Bhīma its strong boughs; the sons of Mādrī its flowers and fruit; and its roots are myself, and dharma, and the holy men.
The Kurus are a forest deep,
The Pāṇḍus, tigers in its shade;
Cut not the forest, drive not the tigers,
Lest both be lost by folly’s blade.
Without the tiger, the wood is felled; without the wood, the tiger dies. Thus forest shelters tiger, and tiger guards the forest. The Dhṛtarāṣṭras are creepers, the Pāṇḍavas are śāla trees—no vine can thrive without a sturdy trunk to climb. Pṛthā’s sons are ready to serve the old king—and ready, too, for war. Let Dhṛtarāṣṭra do now what is right. These high-souled princes, though fully able to fight, still stand in patience among their kin.
Go, learned Sañjaya, and lay this wholly, truly, before the blind king.”