novelraw Arc 1 - Saṃjaya-yāna Parava Chapter 8 - Sañjaya Departs
Arc 1 - Saṃjaya-yāna Parava Chapter 8 - Sañjaya Departs
Vaiśampāyana said:
When Kṛṣṇa had spoken, Sañjaya, son of Gāvalgana, bowed to the assembly and said softly, “I take my leave, O divine ruler of men. May prosperity abide with thee, O son of Pāṇḍu. If my heart, stirred by grief and duty, has uttered any word that stung, forgive it. I bow to Janārdana, to Bhīma and Arjuna, to the sons of Mādrī, to Sātyaki and Cekitāna. Peace be upon you all; may every king look on me with kindly eyes.”
Yudhiṣṭhira, the son of Dharma, answered with the warmth of kinship tempered by royal poise:
“Go, Sañjaya—permitted by us, depart in peace. We know thee, amidst the Kuru court, as a mind unsullied: faithful in embassy, gentle in speech, even when addressed with harshness. Thy words bear weight without malice; thy counsel carries dharma’s fragrance. Among envoys, thou art dearest to us—beside Vidura alone. Go swiftly, then, and bear my salutations where they are due.”
He paused, then gave his charge—broad as a king’s concern and tender as a householder’s care.
“First,” said he, “seek out the Brahmanas of pure energy, dwelling in vows and study, those wandering by the rule of brahmacarya, and the aged ascetics of other callings. In my name, bow to them; ask of their welfare and needs. Then go to the priests and preceptors of king Dhṛtarāṣṭra, and to his ṛtviks—honour them and speak my peace. Even among the not well-born but venerable by age and conduct, those who remember us with a word of virtue—offer them my greeting, then enquire after their well-being.
Our preceptor Droṇa—ocean of morality, master of Veda and arms—salute him in our name. Ask also after Aśvatthāman, keen of study and vow, whose prowess glitters like a youthful Gandharva; and Kr̥pa, son of Śaradvat, mighty in car and still in soul—touch his feet and speak our health. Bhīṣma too, foremost of the Kurus—brave, harmless, ascetic, wise, well-taught and firm—bow to him from us.
Salute the blind yet far-seeing king, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, venerable in years; and ask as well after Suyodhana—though wicked and unbridled, he now rules the earth. Enquire after Duḥśāsana, the bow-armed, whose nature mirrors his brother’s. Greet the chief of the Vāhlikas, who longs for peace among the Bhāratas; honour Somadatta, merciful and wise, whose love restrains his ire; and ask after his son, foremost of bowmen, our friend and kin in spirit.
To the younger lords among the Kurus—sons, grandsons, brothers in all but blood—speak fitting words and ask each after his welfare. Enquire after the allied kings gathered by Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son—the Kekayas, Vāsatis, Śālvas, Amvaṣṭhas, Trigartas; those from east and north and south and west; those of the hills, all who are not cruel and who lead clean lives.
Tell the riders of elephants and horses and cars, and the footmen—an honourable host—that I am well; then ask of theirs. Enquire of those who serve the king in revenue, the gate-keepers, the captains, the counters of income and outlay, and those watching the heavier cares of state. Ask after Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son by his Vaiśya wife—that keen youth of the Kuru line, wise, virtuous, averse to this war.
Speak to Citraseṇa, peerless in the subtle ways of dice; to Śakuni of Gandhāra, master of deceitful play who fans the pride of Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son; and to Karṇa, Vikartana’s son—who boasts to meet us single-handed—ask after their welfare as befits their stations.
As for Vidura—our sole-hearted well-wisher, our teacher, our fosterer, father and mother in one—salute him with the love of sons. His understanding finds no wall; his counsel ranges far—tell him we are steadfast.
Go also to the aged ladies and those renowned for merit, mothers to us in affection. Say: ‘O mothers of living sons, may your sons be gentle and worthy in your sight. Yudhiṣṭhira and his own are well.’ To our wives in their rank say: ‘Be well-protected; keep your fair fame; live blameless within your halls; be kind and thoughtful to your elders—win your lords by virtue.’ To our daughters-in-law of noble birth and merit, mothers of children—give our tender greeting.
Embrace the daughters of our house and ask of their joy. Say: ‘May your husbands be kind, and you sweet to them; may ornaments, garments, fragrance, and cleanly order grace your days; may your looks be bright and your words pleasant.’
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Speak also to maidservants and menservants, to the humpbacked and the lame—say that I am well—and ask if they still taste the king’s kindness and the life-comforts due. To the blind and aged, to those with only hands, without the strength of legs; to the masterless and weak, the struggling and unlearned—say: ‘Do not lose heart; the lot of pain is born of former acts, yet hope shall not be denied. When I have checked my foes and gladdened my friends, I shall clothe and feed you as befits a king.’
For what is a crown without kindness?
What is a throne without care?
The king who forgets the lowly
Is lord of an empty air.
Enquire, too, of all who have come seeking the Dhṛtarāṣṭras’ shelter—unbidden or invited—of ambassadors from every quarter; greet them with our peace. As for the warriors Suyodhana has gathered—none on earth may match them in arms. Yet know—dharma is eternal, and dharma is the power by which I mean to end my foes.
To Suyodhana, son of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, give this message: The longing that burns in thy heart—to rule the Kurus without rival—is unjust and without warrant. We shall not of our own act do what is hateful to thee. Therefore, O foremost of the Bhāratas,
Give back to me my Indraprastha—
My father’s rightful share;
Or meet me in the field of dharma—
And answer steel with steel and prayer.”
He ended, and the court fell still, the air heavy with the mingled scents of sandal and resolve. Sañjaya, bowing once more to Kṛṣṇa and the sons of Pāṇḍu, departed like a swift bird bearing many messages—some soft as balm, one sharp as destiny.
Vaiśampāyana said:
When Sañjaya stood ready to depart, Yudhiṣṭhira, the son of Dharma, spoke once more, his voice calm yet firm—weighted with justice and restraint.
“O Sañjaya,” said he, “the righteous and the unrighteous, the strong and the weak, the young and the aged—all move under the sway of the same unseen Hand. It is that Supreme Lord who gives wisdom to the child and folly to the learned, shaping each heart as He wills.
If Dhṛtarāṣṭra asks thee of our strength, tell him truthfully—yet cheerfully—having taken counsel of all here and weighed all well. When thou hast reached the Kurus, salute the mighty king, son of Ambikā. Touch his feet and speak in our name:
‘The sons of Pāṇḍu live by thy grace, O repressor of foes;
in thy shelter we drew breath and in thy favour we grew to kingship.
Since it was thou who gavest us the realm, withdraw not now thy heart;
for neglect of one’s own gift is ruin’s gate.’
Say also, Sañjaya—“O king, the earth is too vast to be the possession of one man alone. Let us live as kin, not as foes. Be not overborne by the whispers of wrath; seek union, not division.”
Then Yudhiṣṭhira continued, with reverence softening his tone:
“Go next, O son of Gāvalgana, to our grandsire, Bhīṣma, son of Śantanu.
Bow low before him and say from us—
‘O mighty one, thou who didst revive the line of Śantanu when it waned,
thou whose wisdom binds the Bhāratas—grant thy judgment now,
that thy grandsons may live in friendship and peace.’
And to Vidura, the wise and faithful counsellor, say thus:
‘O gentle one, speak once more the words of peace;
for in thy heart alone dwells the true good of Yudhiṣṭhira and of all the Kurus.’
Then his eyes grew grave as he spoke of Duryodhana:
“When thou meetest that unyielding prince in the Kuru court, beseech him again and again:
‘The insult done to Draupadī in open hall—the sons of Pāṇḍu forgive it;
not from weakness, but from unwillingness to see the race of Kuru slain.
The wrongs before and after that—these too we have borne in silence,
though strength to avenge burns like hidden fire within our hearts.
Thou didst exile us to the forests clothed in deer-skins; we endured it for peace’s sake.
Duḥśāsana dragged Kṛṣṇā before her elders—yet that outrage too we let pass.
But now, O king, restore what is ours by right.
Turn thy covetous heart from what belongs to others—
for greed is the axe that fells the tree of kingship.’
He paused, then spoke slowly, each word deliberate as a vow:
‘Peace will gladden us all. We seek not dominion, only our due.
Grant us even a small portion—five provinces suffice.
Give us Kusasthala, Vṛkasthala, Makandī, Vāraṇāvata,
and a fifth of thy choosing. Let that end the quarrel.
If not—then the bow must speak, and destiny shall decide.’
Then, softening again, Yudhiṣṭhira turned from fire to compassion:
‘Tell Suyodhana from me—let brothers follow brothers,
let fathers and sons walk together once more;
let the laughter of the Kurus and the Pāñcālas echo in one hall.
May I see them whole and unbroken, bound by love rather than enmity.
Peace is my prayer, though my hand is not weak for war.
I am prepared alike for gentleness and severity,
for wealth or for virtue, for peace or for battle—
whatever the law of dharma commands.’
Thus spoke Yudhiṣṭhira, the steadfast son of Dharma, his words a mingling of reason and mercy—like cool rain upon smouldering fire. And Sañjaya, bowing deeply before the sons of Pāṇḍu, prepared to bear that final, fateful message to Hastināpura, where peace hung trembling upon a thread.