novelraw Arc 4 - Kṛṣṇa-yāna Parva Chapter 6 - The Refusal of Duryodhana’s Feast
Arc 4 - Kṛṣṇa-yāna Parva Chapter 6 - The Refusal of Duryodhana’s Feast
Vaiśampāyana said:
With Pṛthā’s blessing and her tearful farewell, Govinda, chastiser of foes, departed from her dwelling. The mighty Sauri went to Duryodhana’s palace — resplendent with gems, echoing with the notes of conches and lutes, and glittering like the mansion of Purandara himself. Unchecked by the gatekeepers, he crossed three vast courtyards in succession and entered that lofty hall, towering like a rain-bearing cloud and gleaming with golden light.
There he beheld Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son, of mighty arms, seated amidst a thousand kings, surrounded by Karṇa, Duḥśāsana, and Śakuni, son of Suvala. When the scion of the Daśārhas entered, Duryodhana rose from his seat along with his counsellors, desirous of honouring the slayer of Madhu. Kesava greeted the assembled Kurus and princes, each according to age and dignity, and took his seat upon a golden throne overlaid with embroidered carpet.
Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son offered him cows, honey, curds, and water, placing at his service palaces, mansions, and the kingdom itself. And all the Kurus and the gathered kings, beholding Govinda seated, worshipped him as the very sun in splendour. When the rites were done, Duryodhana, in honeyed tones yet harbouring deceit within, addressed him thus.
“O Janārdana, why dost Thou not accept the food and gifts prepared for Thee?
Thou aidest both sides and art kinsman to us all;
We seek to honour Thee in friendship, not from fear or guile;
Tell us, O Bearer of the Discus, why Thou refusest our call?”
Then spake Govinda, his deep voice resonant like clouds in monsoon, raising his arm whose power upholds the worlds. His words were clear, measured, and heavy with truth.
“O king, envoys partake of food only when their errand is done.
Let My mission bear fruit, and then shalt thou feast Me;
For until peace or judgment is won,
No banquet of the unrighteous pleaseth Me.”
Yet Duryodhana persisted, saying, “Whether thy mission succeed or fail, we wish only to please thee. We are thy kin, O slayer of Madhu; to reject our hospitality seemeth unfriendly.”
Then the Lord of the Vrishṇis gazed upon the Kuru prince and all his counsellors, and answered:
“Not from desire, nor from wrath, nor from envy, nor for gain, nor for debate, nor for pride do I reject thy offerings, O king. One partakes another’s food only in distress — but I am not in want, nor hast thou inspired affection in Me by any act of thine. Without cause, thou hast hated thy gentle brothers from birth; such hatred ill befits thee. The sons of Pāṇḍu are devoted to virtue — who can harm them? He that hateth them, hateth Me; he that loveth them, loveth Me. For the virtuous Pāṇḍavas and I share one soul. That man who, blinded by greed and anger, hateth the righteous, is the vilest among men. But he who, even feigning affection, seeketh to win the good by kindness, prospereth eternally. Thy food, defiled by injustice, is not fit for Me. Only that which Vidura offereth — pure and stainless — shall I accept.”
Thus spoke the Lord of Truth, and rising, He departed from Duryodhana’s blazing palace, shining like the sun escaping a storm.
The murmur of courtiers fell silent and dim,
As He passed, the light in the hall grew pale;
For righteousness withdraweth its flame from sin,
And splendour dieth where virtue doth fail.
Then the mighty-armed Vāsudeva went to the abode of Vidura. There came unto Him Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Vahlika, and many Kurus, offering houses, wealth, and service. But the slayer of Madhu, ever serene, said only, “Ye may go, for I am already honoured by your goodwill.”
Vidura then welcomed Him with the reverence due to Nārāyaṇa Himself, and Kuntī placed before Him clean and savoury food. From that meal, Kṛṣṇa first fed the Brāhmaṇas with gifts and blessings, and then, seated like Indra among the Maruts, He partook of what remained — pure, simple, and righteous fare from Vidura’s hands.
He spurned the feast of kings unjust,
Yet honoured truth with modest grace;
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from NovelBin. Please report it.
For virtue’s meal alone is just,
When served by love in a humble place.
Vaiśampāyana said:
After Keśava had dined and been refreshed, the night grew calm over Hastināpura. Within Vidura’s quiet chamber, lamp-flames flickered like thoughts upon a sage’s brow. Then Vidura, ever wise and steadfast in dharma, spoke to the slayer of Madhu with words born of affection and concern.
“O Keśava,” said he, “this coming of thine, though divinely inspired, is ill-timed. Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son transgresseth both artha and dharma. Wicked and wrathful, he insults others while craving honour himself. Disobedient to the aged, enslaved by lust and pride, he walketh a path that leadeth to ruin.
He knoweth not virtue; fate hath already seized him. Proud, ignorant, and ungrateful, he trusteth only the evil counsel of his companions. His soul is bound by desire and delusion; he thinketh himself wise while scorning those who seek his good. Such men, O Mādhava, are deaf to wisdom.
Even though thou speakest for peace, his heart will not bend. For he hath blind faith in Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Karṇa, Aśvatthāman, and Jayadratha, and deemeth the sons of Pāṇḍu incapable of even looking upon them in battle. He believeth his victory already won, counting Karṇa’s strength as equal to all the world. Such folly shall not yield to reason.
O Janārdana, thy words of peace, though true and wise, will fall upon deaf ears—like a hymn chanted before the unhearing. As a Brāhmaṇa’s voice among the Cāṇḍālas, so will be thy speech among these blinded princes who have no reverence for virtue.
He hath gathered a mighty host and suspects thee already. Proud in his numbers, he thinketh even Indra, with all the celestials, could not subdue him. Therefore, though thy speech is ever efficacious, here it will bear no fruit. Surrounded by elephants and chariots, deluded by strength, Duryodhana dreameth the earth already conquered.
Peace, therefore, is unattainable with him. He regardeth what he hath seized as his own by right, and the world’s destruction seemeth near for his sake. Behold, O Kṛṣṇa, all the kings of the earth—driven by fate—have assembled to perish for Duryodhana’s folly.
Those very rulers whom thou once defeated in battle now, out of fear and envy, have joined him with Karṇa. Reckless of life, they are gladdened by the hope of war against the sons of Pāṇḍu. Hence, O Daśārha, it seemeth not meet that thou shouldst enter their midst.
How shalt thou, O Crusher of foes, stand unharmed among so many who hate thee, their hearts darkened with sin? Yet I know, O Mādhava, that no god, nor host of gods, can vanquish thee. Still, from love I speak, for the affection I bear thee is equal to that I bear the sons of Pāṇḍu. These words are born of friendship, not fear.
For thou art the Soul within all souls,
The unseen fire that breathes through clay;
When virtue trembles, thy presence consoles,
When dharma falters, thou art its stay.
O lotus-eyed Lord, unseen yet near,
In all our hearts thy spirit dwells;
To thee I speak, in love sincere,
Though fate already its story tells.
Thus spoke Vidura, his voice heavy with devotion and foreboding. And Kṛṣṇa, the all-knowing, listened in silence—His gaze serene, His heart unshaken—like calm amidst the gathering storm.
Vaiśampāyana said:
Then the holy Keśava, radiant as a flame untouched by wind, smiled gently and spoke to Vidura, whose wisdom was deep as the sea. His words flowed calm and luminous, like Ganges water at dawn.
“O Vidura,” said He, “what thou hast uttered is worthy of thee—wise, foresighted, and filled with truth. Like a father or mother speaking out of boundless care, thou hast counselled me well. Thy words are steeped in virtue, in profit, and in reason; they spring from affection, not from fear.
Yet listen, O wise one, to the cause of my coming. Knowing full well the wickedness of Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s son, and the fiery hearts of those Kṣatriyas who follow him, I have come nevertheless to the Kurus. For great is the merit of him who labours to rescue the earth—her men, steeds, elephants, and chariots—from the net of destruction.
If a man, striving with pure intent to do a righteous act, fails through no fault of his own, still the merit of that act is his. So too, he who conceiveth sin but acts it not, incurs no guilt thereby. Therefore will I, with all sincerity, seek peace between the Kurus and the Śrīñjayas before the fire of battle consumes them.
This calamity hath its root in the pride of Duryodhana and Karṇa; others merely follow their shadow. He who stands by silent when a friend sinks into sin is himself tainted. But he who, even by force if need be, restrains another from ruin, earns the world’s praise and heaven’s regard.
Hence I will speak to Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons words that are pure, wise, and filled with compassion—words that may save both sides from doom. For whether they heed me or not, I shall have fulfilled my duty, and my conscience shall remain unblemished. A true friend intercedes when kinsmen quarrel, and I have come to fulfil that dharma.
Should any later say, ‘Though able, Kṛṣṇa remained silent while the Kurus and Pāṇḍavas destroyed each other,’ such reproach shall not be mine. I have come to serve both parties. If peace is won, all shall praise the act; if not, the world shall know that I strove.
Should Duryodhana, blinded by folly, reject my counsel, he invites his own destruction. But if, without harming the cause of the Pāṇḍavas, I can bring peace among the Kurus, great indeed shall be the merit thereof, for both virtue and kinship will be preserved.
Let the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra listen calmly to words that are righteous and wise. If they do so, peace will descend like rain upon dry earth, and I shall be honoured as its bringer. But if, blinded by wrath, they seek to harm me—then know, O Vidura, that all the kings of earth united together are as powerless before me as a herd of deer before a raging lion.”
Like fire concealed within the wood,
Like thunder held within the cloud,
So burneth still the righteous mood
Of Keśava, patient yet unbowed.
He cometh not for strife or gain,
But moved by love and duty’s call;
To save the world from wrath and pain,
Or see it perish, one and all.
Vaiśampāyana continued:
Having thus spoken, the bull of the Vṛṣṇi race—bright as lightning and tranquil as the moon—reclined upon his soft couch, his purpose firm, his heart serene, awaiting the dawn that would summon him to the court of the Kurus.