Tomorrow is a big day. Devavrata kept his eyes close in an attempt to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t rest.

Devavrata thought back to all the words of his many gurus throughout the years. They always said that I needed to know how to rule and yet they said I needed to know how to fight in war. “But then why did Mother insist for me to be trained by the immortal sage Markandeya? Yes, I learnt a great deal, but of what use is a lesson on monkhood to a King?”

He thought about the many times his Mother reminded him of the meaning of his name. “Deva-Vrata, it means a vow the Devas made. Be careful with your words and your oaths. Promise me you will try your best to walk the path of Dharma, no matter what lies ahead.” He wondered what his Mother meant. But he was sure he’d make her proud. He would keep every vow he made, and people would say Ganga’s son never broke his word.

Devavrata doses off with these thoughts. Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow he will meet his father, King Shantanu. But more importantly, tomorrow he will be a Prince.

I could never quite place my finger on what it was that bothered me about Bhishma’s character, but after my experience in the government, I see it clearly now. It is an easy trap to fall into. He lived by the book and made grand oaths which have serious implications in future in order to address immediate concerns. The man was obsessed with his kingdom. Although he relinquished his rights to the throne, he refused to die until he felt the kingdom was in safe hands with the Pandavas. And in this way it was reaffirmed that he was a righteous man.  But what did he actually do towards this goal? Unfortunately, nothing. The great warrior who was undefeated by Lord Parashuram himself, whiled away the years while watching the spectacle of the Kurukshetra war. Although respected by all, he died on a bed arrows shot by his own disciple.

I was very tempted to re-imagine Bhishma’s story when he was lying on his deathbed, waiting for the war to be over. Perhaps to imagine him revisiting his mistakes, hoping he could have salvaged the situation earlier on. But something brought me back to the young boy being trained by the Devas to be King, or so he thought.

The Mahabharatha says King Dhritarashta was born blind and his loyal wife Gandhari blindfolded her eyes for her husband.But what if it weren’t as literal as it sounds? I mean no offense to our itihasa. 

Vidura looked out at the battlefield. Or rather, he looked out at what remained of the battlefield. It was a gory sight to behold. The cries of the widows were still ringing in his ear. “My dear brother Dhritarashta, look at what you have done?”

“What I have done?! This entire war is the doing of the Pandavas! What part do I have to play in this Great War?” Dhritarashta slammed the arm of his chair with such fury that Gandhari came running into the room.

“And what part did you play to stop the Great War, oh Great King Dhritarashta?”, mocked Vidura.  “You could have spoken some sense into your sons. You could have split the kingdom fairly, you could have stopped the wretched game of dice that brought us here! You could have listened to me when I spoke out against Draupadi’s humiliation. Hell, you could have raised your sons to adhere to Dharma! I will not stand here silently and hear you absolve all accountability of the 3.9 million lives lost!”

Gandhari gasped and rushed forward to meet Vidura eye to eye. “Vidura, how dare you disrespect the King! Are you saying my husband holds the blood of the 3.9 million warriors? Do not forget that we too have lost our sons in this war.”

Vidura shook his head softly. “No Gandhari, along with that he holds the tears of their widows, the cries of their children, the curses of their parents. As do we. We hold it too, Gandhari! My heart is crushed by the weight of the guilt that I have failed to advise my brother in the path of Dharma.” And as he said these words, he sank to the ground.

“You have always been blind to the truth, Brother. Since our childhood, you have always sought solace in your ignorance. It’s almost as if you were born a blind man, unable to see things that are right in front of you clear as day.” Vidura turned once again to Gandhari, “And you Gandhari! It is almost as if you have chosen to blindfold yourself in support of your blind husband! Yes, history shall remember you both as the blind King Dhritarashta and his blindfolded wife Gandhari!”

“Draupadi, is it true that you will only tie your hair once you have washed it with Dushashana’s blood? Continue reading “The tale of Draupadi’s hair”