novelraw Arc 9 - Vidhuragamana - Chapter 2 - Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s counsel
Arc 9 - Vidhuragamana - Chapter 2 - Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s counsel
Vaiśampāyana continued:
Then, at the summons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra, the grandsire of the Kuru house, Bhīṣma, spoke—his voice calm as still waters, yet firm as the mountain’s root.
“O King,” he said, “a quarrel with the Pāṇḍavas
Is a thing I can never support.
As dear as thou art to me, so too was Pāṇḍu, thy brother.
And the sons of Gāndhārī and the sons of Kuntī—
They are all to me as one.”
He turned his gaze to Duryodhana, who stood silent, eyes burning.
“Should I not protect both?
As a Kuru, as a guardian of dharma,
I owe them both my loyalty.”
“Know this: the Pāṇḍavas are no strangers to the throne.
This land, this kingdom—
It is as much their birthright as it is thine.
Just as thou callest it thy paternal inheritance,
So too do they claim it, and rightly so.”
He paused, then spoke again, the weight of his lineage behind every word:
“Give them half the kingdom, O son of Gāndhārī.
It is their due. It is just.
It will bring peace to the house of Bhārata,
And guard us from ruin.”
“If thou deny them what is theirs,
What right, then, hast thou to this throne?
They were born of Pāṇḍu before thee,
Their claim precedes thine.”
Then Bhīṣma, the pillar of the Kuru line, warned with the voice of destiny:
“Take not a path of pride and folly,
For it shall lead to ruin—for thee and for us all.
Preserve thy honor, O Duryodhana.
For a man’s name is his true life.
When fame is gone, life too is lost,
And he lives no more who is remembered in shame.”
“Remember the virtue of our ancestors—
The Kurus, famed for truth and nobility.
Walk their path, and not that of greed.
Let honor be thy shield, not ambition.”
He turned once more to Dhṛtarāṣṭra, his face grave yet softened by relief:
“We are fortunate, O King,
That the Pāṇḍavas live.
We are fortunate that Kuntī still walks among us.
We are fortunate that the wicked Purocana
Perished without fulfilling his cruel intent.”
“Since the day I heard that the sons of Pāṇḍu
Had perished in the house of lac,
I could not meet another man’s gaze.
The world laid the blame not upon Purocana,
But upon thee.”
“Now that they have emerged from the fire,
Shining like flames untouched,
Thy reputation may yet be cleansed.
Let not new sin take root.”
And at last, Bhīṣma’s voice fell to quiet strength, as if speaking directly to the heart of the Kuru line:
“The Pāṇḍavas are united. They are virtuous.
No power, not even Indra with his thunderbolt,
Can strip them of their rightful share.
Do what is right, O King.
Do what is worthy of the house of Bhārata.
If thou wouldst have my blessing,
If thou wouldst guard the kingdom and thy soul—
Then give unto them half the realm.
That alone shall bring peace.”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
After Bhīṣma had spoken—his voice the echo of dharma's law—the venerable Droṇa, master of celestial weapons and preceptor to both Kaurava and Pāṇḍava, arose and addressed the king in measured tones:
“O Dhṛtarāṣṭra, it is known to us all that in the assembly of kings,
Friends summoned for counsel must speak not to flatter,
But to uphold truth, justice, and fame.
Therefore, I too shall speak—
And my heart aligns with Bhīṣma.”
“Let a share of the kingdom be granted unto the sons of Pāṇḍu.
This is the path of righteousness, this is eternal virtue,
And this alone shall preserve the house of Bhārata from ruin.”
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He spoke now of peace, not submission:
“Send at once, O King, a messenger,
One of pleasing words and gentle bearing,
Bearing with him a great treasure
To be laid before the Pāṇḍavas in goodwill.”
“Let him go to the court of Drupada,
Laden with gifts for the bride and her lords—
Silks, gold, and ornaments wrought by finest hands.
Let him speak of the joy this alliance has brought thee,
Let him speak of the honor that now joins Kuru and Pāñcāla.”
“Let him assure Drupada and Dṛṣṭadyumna
That thou, O King, rejoice in their strength,
And see in this union not danger but dignity.
Let the sons of Kuntī and Mādrī be greeted with affection,
Let them be honored with words of kinship and alliance.”
“At thy command, let ornaments of purest gold
Be sent to Draupadī, the bride of many heroes,
And let presents of equal worth be given to Drupada’s sons,
As befits princes allied to thy house.”
Then he added:
“Let the envoy suggest, with respect and warmth,
The return of the Pāṇḍavas to Hastināpura.
Once Drupada consents,
Let Duḥśāsana and Vikarna,
Attended by a noble escort,
Ride forth to welcome them with honor.”
“And when they arrive, O Monarch,
Receive them as thy own sons—
With open arms and a father's grace.
Restore to them their ancestral throne,
As the people of the realm surely desire.”
“Such, O scion of Bhārata, is the course I deem wise.
Let peace rule where vengeance lurks,
Let kinship triumph over pride.
For they, O King, are thy brother’s sons,
But in truth and blood, they are thine own.”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
When Droṇa had ceased, his voice like the sound of a steady drum of reason, Karna, son of Rādha, once again rose to speak—his words sharpened not by wisdom, but by pride and bitterness.
“O King,” he said, his voice like a blade under silk,
“What can be more amusing than this?
That Bhīṣma and Droṇa, who feast on wealth thou hast given,
And bask in thy continual favor,
Should now offer counsel that seeks to diminish thy power?”
“Are they not thy trusted friends? Yet, they urge you to share your throne.
Can such advice be pure, when hearts are hidden and lips speak sweet?
Beware the tongue that soothes while the hand weakens.
Even a friend may serve poison in a cup of gold.”
He continued, weaving philosophy and parable, his eyes flashing with disdain:
“O King, in times of crisis, neither friend nor foe
Can alter what destiny has already written.
The wise, the foolish, the mighty, the weak,
All alike rise and fall under fate’s silent wheel.”
“Have you not heard the tale of Amvuvicha,
The king of Rājagṛha, lord of Magadha’s chiefs?
He governed nothing. He merely breathed,
And all affairs were left to his minister, Mahākārṇi.”
“That minister, growing drunk on stolen power,
Took the king’s treasures, his queens, his glory.
But the more he seized, the more he craved—
Until even the throne itself called to his greed.”
“Yet despite all schemes, he could not take it.
For the kingdom remained with the king who cared for nothing.
And why? Because destiny had placed it there.”
Karna then turned toward Dhṛtarāṣṭra, his words heavy with fatalism:
“If this kingdom is truly yours by fate,
Then even if all the world turns against thee, it shall remain.
But if fate has not so willed it—
Then even thy sons and armies shall not hold it in thy grasp.”
“Judge, O King, who among thy advisers speaks for dharma,
And who for ruin veiled in righteousness.
See through flattery, and discern the crooked heart beneath.”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
But as Karṇa’s voice died away, the venerable Droṇa, his heart still bound to duty, rose once more and replied with stern rebuke:
“O Karṇa, thy words are steeped in wickedness,
For it is in thy nature to wound.
Thou art no lover of dharma—
Thy counsel seeks only to bring harm to the Pāṇḍavas,
Who once sat at my feet as students and sons.”
“What I spoke, I spoke not for faction or favor,
But for the good of all—
For the peace of the Kuru race,
And the survival of a house now leaning over fire.”
“If thou thinkest my words harmful,
Then rise and speak what thou deemest just.
But know this, O Karṇa:
If wise counsel is cast aside,
Then the destruction of the Kurus shall not be long in coming.”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
After Droṇa had ceased, the ever-wise Vidura—foremost among counselors, born of dharma’s essence—spoke gently, yet with the weight of ancient truth:
“O Monarch,” he said, “thy companions speak with voices full of care,
And yet, their words slip past thy ears like wind upon stone.
For thou hearest only what pleases the desire within,
Not what serves thy welfare.”
“What Bhīṣma, son of Śāntanu, has declared—
Is righteous, clear, and for thy good.
But thy heart, clouded by affection and fear,
Resists the very words that could preserve thee.”
“What Droṇa, the teacher of princes,
Loyal to both the sons of Dhṛtarāṣṭra and Pāṇḍu,
Has spoken, is neither partisan nor vain.
Yet Karna, moved by pride and poisoned affection,
Casts aside his wisdom like dust beneath chariot wheels.”
“O King, I have searched my thoughts,
And I find none—none more faithful to thee
Than these two lions among men:
Bhīṣma and Droṇa—elders in age,
Giants in knowledge, balanced in affection.”
“They see with equal vision thy sons and those of Kuntī.
They are not swayed by wealth, nor tempted by power.
Even as Rāma of Ayodhyā stood firm in truth,
Even as Gaya upheld dharma,
So do they speak—with no motive but thy protection.”
He raised his voice just slightly, not in anger but in insistence:
“They have never wronged thee, O King.
Why, then, would they now seek thy downfall?
These are not men of crooked mind.
They are clear as the midday sun.”
“And those who speak against the Pāṇḍavas—
Who urge division, deceit, or destruction—
Are not thy true friends,
For they divide thy own house.”
“Have not the sons of Pāṇḍu also sprung from thy brother?
Are they not blood of thy blood?
Are they not thy children, as much as Duryodhana and his brothers?”
“If partiality blinds thee, O King,
Then those who exploit that weakness
With smooth words and wicked counsel
Are leading thee into ruin.”
Vidura then leaned forward slightly, his gaze unblinking:
“What Bhīṣma and Droṇa have spoken
Is not only just, it is urgent.
Their warning is no echo of fear—
It is the voice of destiny knocking.”
“Think not lightly of the strength of the Pāṇḍavas.
Think not they are as they once were.”
“Can Arjuna, the ambidextrous bowman,
Whose arrows are lightning,
Be bested even by Maghavat, wielder of the thunderbolt?
Can mighty Bhīma, with arms like iron masts,
Whose fury equals ten thousand elephants,
Be overcome even by the immortals themselves?”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
And Vidura, the just and far-seeing, continued to speak, his words flowing like a sacred river of wisdom before the king:
“Who, desiring to live, would dare to challenge
The twin sons of Mādrī,
Born of the Aśvinī gods,
Skilled in arms, radiant as Yama himself in judgment and might?”
“And how shall any vanquish Yudhiṣṭhira,
The eldest of the Pāṇḍavas—
In whom abide all noble virtues:
Patience, mercy, truth, forgiveness, and the valor of kings?”
“They, O King, who count among their allies:
Rāma of the plough, great Baladeva,
Kṛṣṇa, Janārdana himself, lord of counsel and time,
And Sātyaki, lion-hearted and invincible in battle—
Have already conquered the world by destiny’s decree.”
“Their strength is not theirs alone—
It is woven with dharma,
And blessed by the gods.”
“Their father-in-law is Drupada,
A king of sacrifice and vengeance.
Their brothers-in-law are Dṛṣṭadyumna, born of fire,
And Śikhaṇḍin, unbending as fate itself—
Can such a host be overcome?”
Vidura’s voice grew gentler, yet deeper in conviction:
“Remember, O Monarch,
Their claim to the kingdom precedes thy son’s.
They are sons of Pāṇḍu, rightful heirs.
Thou knowest this in thy heart.”
“And the shame—the stain—of Purocana’s act still lingers upon thy house.
Though thou didst not light the fire,
The world sees thy silence as guilt.
Now is the time to cleanse thy name—
Not through battle, but through virtue.”
“Make peace, O King.
In doing so, thou shalt protect all of us—
The house of Kuru,
And the wider race of Kṣatriyas.”
“If once we warred with Drupada,
Let us now win him as an ally.
His strength shall become ours,
And our past shall be redeemed by alliance.”
Then Vidura, seeing Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s hesitation, spoke of the deeper truth:
“The Dāśārhas, O King, are countless and strong.
Wherever Kṛṣṇa stands—
There shall all the Yādavas be.
And where Kṛṣṇa is,
There too is victory.”
“Only the cursed seek war when peace is possible.
Why burn a forest to gather fruit,
When the fruit may be plucked with gentle hands?”
“The subjects of this realm, having heard that the sons of Pṛthā live,
Are rejoicing like fields after rain.
They yearn to behold their princes again.
Let their hearts not be broken.”
Finally, with grave insistence, Vidura warned:
“O King, be not swayed by Duryodhana,
Nor by Karna, nor by Śakuni, son of Suvala.
They are young, prideful, and blind to dharma.
Listen not to their counsel—
For in their folly lies the doom of this realm.”
“Thou art a man of virtue.
I have told thee before, and I say it again—
It is for Duryodhana’s fault
That the people of this kingdom shall perish.”
Vaiśampāyana continued:
Hearing the counsel of Bhīṣma, Droṇa, and Vidura, the blind monarch Dhṛtarāṣṭra, his voice now softened by wisdom and remorse, spoke at last with clarity:
“What the son of Śāntanu, the venerable Droṇa, and thou thyself, O Vidura,
Have declared is true—and truly it is for my good.
The sons of Kuntī are sons of Pāṇḍu, yes,
But by law and dharma, they are mine as well.”
“As my own sons are rightful heirs to this kingdom,
So too are the sons of Pṛthā.
They are born of our line,
And no injustice must deny them their due.”
Then, as if the burden of treachery had begun to lift, he said:
“Go swiftly, O Vidura,
Bring back the Pāṇḍavas,
Bring Kuntī, the revered queen,
Bring also Kṛṣṇā of divine beauty,
And receive them with affection and honor.”
“By fortune alone, they survived the fire;
By fortune, they have won the daughter of Drupada;
By fortune, our strength has grown.
Even the wicked Purocana was consumed by the fire he lit—
Such is the working of fate!”
“O wise Vidura, my heart, long weighed down with grief,
Breathes now in relief.
Go—and may this reunion restore harmony to Kuru’s house.”