Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 1 - Karna-senāpati-nirmāṇa Parva - Chapter 9 - The Tale of Tripura’s End

Sañjaya said—“Then thy son, O monarch, approaching the mighty car-warrior, the ruler of the Madras, spoke with humble affection: Duryodhana bowed and said that among all lion-kings he sought but one—Śalya—for a task born of peril and promise. ‘O keeper of vows, fortune-favoured one, terror of hostile ranks,’ said he, ‘accept, for love of me, the office of charioteer to Karṇa. With thee at the reins, the son of Radha will subdue my foes. Guard him, O lord of the Madras, as Brahmā guards Maheśvara; even as he of the Vṛṣṇis shelters Pārtha in every danger, so do thou protect Karṇa today.’

He reminded Śalya how the Kuru strength had been portioned among Bhīṣma, Droṇa, Kṛpa, Śalya, the ruler of the Bhojas, Śakuni, Aśvatthāman, and himself; how Bhīṣma and Droṇa had exceeded their shares and ascended to heaven after deeds most difficult; how many other tigers among men had fallen; and how the remnant now reeled before the sons of Kuntī. ‘What shall be done today to stay their exterminating might? Karṇa alone, and thou, O tiger among men, are steadfast for our good. Karṇa desires single combat with Arjuna; in him my hope is great. None other can so fitly hold his reins as thou. As Kṛṣṇa is foremost for Pārtha, be thou foremost for Karṇa. Day after day our vast host breaks before Arjuna because he is united with Kṛṣṇa. Let thy share and Karṇa’s be borne together—like Sūrya with Aruṇa scatters night, so you two, shining like twin suns, scatter the Pāṇḍavas and their allies. With thee for driver, Karṇa will be invincible even against the gods led by Śakra. Doubt it not.’”

“Be rein and rampart to his might,

As Discus-bearer guards the Right;

Yoke thunder, curb the stallions’ fire—

And turn the tide of Kuru’s dire.”

Sañjaya said—“Hearing these words, Śalya’s brow gathered into three stern lines; he waved his arms, his great eyes reddened with wrath. Proud of lineage, wealth, and knowledge, the king of the Madras spoke harshly: Thou insultest me, son of Gāndhārī, or doubtest me, in bidding me ‘Act as driver!’ Praising Karṇa above us, thou makest me yield to the Sūta’s son. I do not deem him my equal in battle. Give me a greater share; I shall destroy it and return. Or let me, single-handed, consume the foe—then judge my prowess.

He spoke of order and station—of Brāhmaṇas, Kṣatriyas, Vaiśyas, and Śūdras; of Sūtas as servants to Kṣatriyas; of himself, crowned and consecrated, born of royal sages, worthy of eulogy, a great car-warrior. ‘Shall I, thus, take the reins for Adhiratha’s son? Being superior, why should I obey a sinful man? He who makes the higher yield to the lower sins against right order. Behold these arms, thunder-strong; this bow and these serpent-swift shafts; this car with wind-fleet steeds; this mace bound with golden bands. In wrath I could split earth, scatter mountains, and parch the seas. Knowing me thus, why set me to a mean task? I will not fight under humiliation. Grant me leave to depart, O son of Gāndhārī.’

So saying, that tiger among men rose in anger and made to withdraw.”

“A lion yoked to lesser yoke

Breaks bit and harness, snaps the spoke;

Where honour’s hair is singed by flame,

The noble turns from scorn and shame.”

Sañjaya said—“But thy son, from affection and deep regard, held Śalya fast with conciliating words, sweet and apt to win all ends: ‘It is even as thou sayest, O king, yet hear my purpose. I deem thee not less than Karṇa, nor do I suspect thee. The princes of Madra have truth for refuge—therefore art thou called Ārtāyani. And because thou art a barbed shaft to thy foes, men call thee Śalya. Do, O giver of honours, that which thou thyself didst vow to accomplish. Neither Radha’s son nor I surpass thee in valour that I would bid thee hold any reins in contempt. Yet as Karṇa excels Dhanañjaya in many qualities of weapons, so does the world hold thee superior to Vāsudeva in the lore of steeds. In horsemanship, O ruler of the Madras, thy knowledge is twice that of the high-souled Kṛṣṇa.’

Thus praised before the host, the Madra king was gratified.”

“Where frankness crowns a sovereign plea,

The iron heart grows mild and free;

Soft rain will bend the tallest grain—

And pride relents beneath the rain.”

Sañjaya said—“Śalya answered, ‘Since, O son of Gāndhārī, thou proclaimest me, here amidst these troops, superior to Devakī’s son, I am pleased. I will drive the car of the famed son of Radha when he engages the foremost of Pāṇḍu’s sons, as thou desirest. Yet let this be our compact with Vikartana’s child: in his very presence I shall utter whatsoever words I will.’

Thy son and Karṇa accepted the Madra king’s condition, saying, ‘So be it.’”

Sañjaya said—“Then Duryodhana spoke again to the ruler of the Madras, recounting, as Mārkaṇḍeya had once told his sire, an ancient battle between gods and Asuras. ‘Hear me with trust, O king,’ he said, ‘and doubt nothing I recite. In former times, when each side strove for supremacy, a great war arose whose dark root was Tāraka. The Daityas were defeated by the gods. Upon that defeat, Tāraka’s three sons—Tārakākṣa, Kamalākṣa, and Vidyunmālin—embraced fierce austerities and high vows, until the boon-giving Grandsire was gratified.

United in counsel, they asked of Brahmā immunity from death at the hands of all creatures, at all times. The Lord of creatures forbade that prayer—“Ask not what cannot be”—and bade them seek another boon. After long conference, the three bowed and said: ‘Let us dwell in three cities upon earth and sky. After a thousand years we shall come into conjunction; then let the foremost among the gods who, with a single shaft, pierces our three united cities, be the cause of our destruction.’ Brahmā assented and returned to heaven.

Then the Asuras chose the great Māyā, tireless celestial artificer, to build their triple abodes. By the power of his ascetic merit he fashioned three cities: one of gold, set in heaven; one of silver, hung in mid-firmament; one of black iron, founded on the earth. Each measured a hundred yojanas by a hundred, with palaces and ramparts, broad streets and mighty gates. The golden city belonged to Tārakākṣa, the silver to Kamalākṣa, the iron to Vidyunmālin. Thither flocked hosts of flesh-eating Dānavas, once vanquished by the celestials, now emboldened and desirous of prosperity.

Māyā supplied all their needs. Whatever any heart desired was granted by his illusion. Tārakākṣa’s son Hari obtained yet another boon: a lake within the city from which the slain, when cast therein, would rise again with doubled strength, in the very form and guise in which they fell. Thus revived, the Asuras afflicted the three worlds without diminution of might, their covetousness and pride unbound. They drove the gods from sacred groves and hermitages, defiled celestial retreats, and spared none.

Śakra, with the Maruts, hurled his thunder from every side, but could not pierce the triple forts rendered impenetrable by the Creator’s grace. Fear-struck, the celestials repaired with Indra to the Grandsire and laid their grief before him. ‘He who offends you offends me,’ said Brahmā. ‘I am impartial, yet the unrighteous must be slain—this is my vow. The three forts must be pierced with one shaft; by no other means shall they fall. None save Sthāṇu is competent to achieve it. Choose Īśāna—Jishnu, unfatigued in work—as your warrior; he will destroy the Asuras.’

So commanded, the gods, taking Brahmā at their head, sought the Bull-bannered Lord. With ṛṣis austere and the Vedic word upon their tongues, they praised the Universal Soul, pervading and supreme. They, who by penance had stilled the functions of the mind, beheld Īśāna—the Lord of Umā, the mass of unmeasured energy, the source without equal—appearing to each in the very form each heart conceived. Filled with wonder, gods and seers bent their heads to earth. The Three-eyed smiled and said, ‘Welcome—declare your purpose.’ Thus emboldened, they adored him in high words.”

“All hail to Thee, O source of gods,

Whose bow is dread, whose wrath subdues;

Who broke the rite of Dakṣa once,

Whom lords of beings ever choose.

All hail, O red and terrible,

O blue of throat, O tri-eyed Lord;

Trident-armed, unconquerable,

Whose gazelle-eyes flash forth the sword.

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All hail, most pure, destruction’s self,

Irresistible, Brahman’s flame;

The vow-obsessed, in tatters robed,

Yet vast, Controller without name.

Sire of Kumāra, foremost armed,

Whose shelter quells affliction’s flood;

Lord over trees and men and kine,

Lord of the yajña and its blood.

O captain ever leading hosts,

O fierce with never-dwindling might;

In thought and word and deed we bow—

Be gracious, Master of the fight.”

Sañjaya said—“Gratified, the holy One welcomed them and spoke gently, ‘Let your fears be dispelled. Declare what I shall do for you.’”

“When the fears of Pitṛs, gods, and Ṛṣis were dispelled by the high-souled Deity, Brahmā adored Śaṅkara for the welfare of the worlds and spoke: ‘Through Thy favour I hold lordship over creatures. In that rank I granted a great boon to the Dānavas. None save Thee, O Lord of Past and Future, can now destroy those wicked ones who honour none. Thou alone art competent to slay the foes of these heaven-dwellers who seek Thy shelter. Show them grace, O Trident-wielder; let the universe attain happiness through Thee. We all take refuge in Thee, O Lord of worlds.’

Then Sthāṇu said, ‘Your foes must be slain. Yet I will not slay them single-handed. The enemies of the gods are mighty. Unite, and with half my power consume them in battle; union is great strength.’

The gods answered, ‘Their energy seems to us twice our own; we have seen their might.’ The holy One replied, ‘The sinful who wrong you must be slain. Take half my energy and strike them down.’ The gods rejoined, ‘We cannot bear half Thy might, O Maheśvara. Rather, take half of our united strength and do Thou the slaying.’ The Lord said, ‘If ye cannot bear half of My power, then, endued with half your united energy, I will slay them.’

Thus agreed, the celestials said, ‘So be it.’ Taking half their energies, He surpassed all beings in might; from that time Śaṅkara came to be called Mahādeva. ‘Armed with bow and arrow,’ said He, ‘I shall from My car cast down your foes. Prepare My car, My bow, and the shaft, that this very day the Asuras may fall to earth.’

The gods replied, ‘Gathering forms from all three worlds, taking portions of each, we shall fashion for Thee a car of vast energy, wrought by Viśvakarman with discerning art.’ So they set about their work. Viṣṇu, Soma, and Agni became the arrow—Agni the staff, Soma the head, Viṣṇu the keen point. Earth herself, with cities, mountains, forests, and islands—the home of countless beings—became the car. Mandara became its axle; Gaṅgā its jāṅghā; the quarters and sub-quarters its ornaments; the constellations its shaft; the Kṛta age its yoke; and Vāsuki the kuvara. Himālaya and Vindhya were its braces and base; Udaya and Asta its wheels; the Ocean its second axle; the Seven Ṛṣis guarded its wheels. Gaṅgā, Sarasvatī, Sindhu, and the Sky became its yoke-pole; all other rivers, all waters, the binding cords. Day and Night, the kālas and kāṣṭhās, and the seasons became its traces; blazing planets and stars its wooden fence; Dharma, Artha, and Kāma its triple plait. Herbs and creepers, flower- and fruit-laden, became its bells. Sun and Moon, made equal, were the other pair of wheels; Day and Night its auspicious wings. The ten foremost serpents, with Dhṛtarāṣṭra as first, formed the other shaft. The Sky was its yoke; Samvartaka and Valāhaka clouds the yoke-straps. The Two Twilights, Dhṛti, Medhā, Sthiti, Saṃnati, and the starry firmament became its coverings. The Lokapālas—lords of gods, waters, the dead, and treasures—were its steeds. Kālapiṣṭha, Nahūṣa, Karkoṭaka, Dhanañjaya, and other serpents bound the manes; the directions became the reins; the Vedic Vaṣaṭ the goad, Gāyatrī the goad-cord; the four auspicious days the traces, and their presiding Pitṛs the hooks and pins. Kriyā (Action), Satya (Truth), Tapas (Austerity), and Artha (Profit) made the car-cords. Mind became the ground beneath; Speech the tracks on which it would roll. Banners of many hues streamed; lightning and Indra’s bow flashed upon it.

That span of Time once fixed as a Year in Īśāna’s sacrifice became the bow; Sāvitrī the loud-sounding string. A celestial mail, gem-bright, impenetrable, sprang from the Wheel of Time. Golden Meru rose as flagstaff; clouds wreathed with lightning served as pennons. Thus arrayed, the car blazed like sacrificial fire among priests. Seeing the universe’s energies gathered there, the gods marvelled and announced to the illustrious Deity that the car stood ready. Mahādeva then set upon it His own divine weapons; making the sky His banner-pole, He raised aloft His bull-emblem. The Brāhmaṇa’s rod, the rod of Death, Rudra’s rod, and Fever guarded the car on every side. Atharvan and Aṅgirasa protected the wheels; Ṛgveda, Sāmaveda, and the Purāṇas went before; Itihāsa and Yajurveda guarded the rear. All sacred speeches and sciences stood around; all hymns and the Vedic Vaṣaṭ resounded; and the syllable Om shone at the van.

He made the Year—adorned with six seasons—His bow, and His own shadow the unbreakable string. For Rudra is Death; Kālarātri, Death-Night—His shadow—became the indestructible cord. As the universe is said to consist of Agni and Soma, and likewise of Viṣṇu, and Viṣṇu is the Soul of Bhava—therefore the touch of that bowstring was unbearable to the Asuras. Śaṅkara then breathed upon the arrow His irresistible wrath—the fire born of the angers of Bhṛgu and Aṅgirasa—and called Nīlarohita, blue-and-red as smoke and flame, terrible as ten thousand suns, mantled in superabundant energy. Hara, rescuer of the righteous, destroyer of the unrighteous, stood with beings of terrible form and mind-swift speed about Him, as if all fourteen faculties of the soul were awake within Him. With His limbs for refuge, the throng of mobile and immobile beings present shone in a marvel beyond telling.

Beholding the car complete, He donned the mail, took up the bow, and lifted the celestial shaft compounded of Soma, Viṣṇu, and Agni. The gods bade Vāyu breathe after that puissant Lord all the fragrance he bore. Terrifying even the celestials and making the Earth herself tremble, Mahādeva ascended the car with firm resolve. Great Ṛṣis, Gandharvas, companies of gods, and hosts of Apsarases praised Him as He mounted; eulogists sang; dancers performed; the boon-giver, armed with scimitar, shaft, and bow, shone with His own splendour. Smiling, He asked the gods, ‘Who shall be My driver?’ They answered, ‘Whom Thou appointest will surely be Thy driver.’ The Lord replied, ‘Choose for My driver one superior to Me.’

The gods sought the Grandsire and said, ‘All Thou badest us, we have done to afflict the foes of heaven. The Bull-bannered Deity is gratified; a car of wonders is built; Hara stands as warrior, the four Vedas as steeds, Earth with her mountains the car, the stars its ornaments. Yet we know not the driver. Appoint one superior to all. Except Thee, we behold none fit to hold the reins. Mount swiftly, O Lord, and guide those foremost steeds for the victory of the celestials and the ruin of their foes.’ Bowing with their heads, they supplicated the Lord of the three worlds.

Brahmā said, ‘There is no untruth in what ye declare. I will hold the reins for Kapardin while He engages in fight.’ Thus appointed, the Creator of worlds ascended the worshipped car. The wind-swift steeds bent their heads to earth. Seated, the Grandsire, radiant with his own energy, took reins and goad, and, raising the steeds, said to Sthāṇu, ‘Ascend.’

Taking the arrow composed of Viṣṇu, Soma, and Agni, Sthāṇu mounted, his bow causing the foe to tremble. Ṛṣis, Gandharvas, hosts of gods, and Apsarases praised the Lord upon the car. Resplendent and boon-giving, armed and ready, He made the three worlds blaze with His energy. Once more He addressed the gods led by Indra: ‘Grieve not, doubting My puissance. Know that the Asuras are already slain by this arrow.’ The gods replied, ‘It is true—the Asuras are already slain,’ for the Lord’s word cannot be untrue.

Then, O King, that Lord of gods set forth upon the peerless car, encompassed by celestials. His attendants, invincible meat-eaters, shouted and danced in joy; Ṛṣis of austere merit wished for His success; hymns rose; millions of Gandharvas played diverse instruments as He advanced. The boon-giving Brahmā, seated as charioteer, guided the Lord of the Universe. Smiling, the Great God said: ‘Excellent! Excellent! Drive, O god, to the Daityas’ abode. Urge the steeds awake. Behold today the might of arms, while I smite the foe in battle.’”

“Time is His bow, the seasons string;

His shadow—Death’s own darkened ring.

Agni and Soma, Viṣṇu’s breath—

One shaft to fold the forts in death.”

Sañjaya said—“Thus addressed, the Grandsire urged those steeds—fleet as wind or thought—toward the triple city where the Dāityas and Dānavas kept grim watch. Worshipped by all the worlds, those coursers seemed to devour the skies as they bore the Great Lord onward for the victory of heaven’s host. When Bhava set forth upon that car, His bull bellowed—vast, tumultuous roars that shook the quarters. Hearing that terrible sound, many scions and followers of Tāraka, haters of the gods, gave up the ghost; others, stout of heart, stood ready for battle.

Then Sthāṇu, armed with the trident, was seized by storming wrath; all creatures were afraid, and the three worlds trembled. When He bent His thought to the fatal shaft, dire portents rose. Under the weight of Soma, Agni, and Viṣṇu embodied in that missile—under the weight of Brahmā and Rudra and Rudra’s bow—the cosmic car seemed to sink. Then Nārāyaṇa, bursting forth from the point of the shaft, assumed the form of a bull and raised that sinking car. In the interval while it sank and the foe exulted with roars, the Illustrious One, fierce with rage, shouted aloud—standing upon the head of His bull and the backs of His steeds—so that the very ether rang.

At that moment, O best of men, while Rudra’s gaze was fixed upon the Dānava city, He cleft the hoofs of the bull and cut the teats of the horses. From that date, the hoofs of all bovine creatures became cloven; from that date, horses, smitten by the might of Rudra, were without teats. Then Śarva strung his bow, yoking to that shaft the Pāśupata might, and held his aim, awaiting the appointed moment. As Rudra thus stood, the three cities drew into conjunction and became a single fort. The gods, the Siddhas, and great Ṛṣis cried “Jaya!” and adored Maheśvara when the triple city lost its separate forms.

“Three forts as one, one shaft as three—

The worlds held still, the gods cried ‘Jai!’

The bow was Time, the string was Night,

The arrow—Fire and Moon and Sky.”

Then the Lord of the universe drew the celestial bow and sped that shaft—concentrated might of all that is—at the triple city. Instantly arose wails from within those forts as they fell from their stations toward the earth. Burning the Asuras, the Three-eyed cast them into the Western Ocean. Thus, in wrath for the welfare of the worlds, Maheśvara consumed the triple city and exterminated the Dānavas. Then the Fire born of His own wrath He Himself restrained, saying, “Reduce not the three worlds to ashes.”

Thereafter, gods, Ṛṣis, and the three worlds, restored to their proper natures, praised Sthāṇu of peerless energy with words of high import. Taking leave of the Great God, the celestials returned with the Creator to their own abodes; their purpose was accomplished after great endeavour. Thus did Mahesvara, Lord of gods and Asuras, do that which is the good of all.

“He quenched His flame with mercy’s breath,

Lest worlds be charred by righteous wrath;

Thus Justice walks with Grace entwined—

A lion’s heart, a sage’s path.”