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The Mahabharata of Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa, Volume 1 by or: Kisari Mohan Ganguli

o >> or: Kisari Mohan Ganguli >> The Mahabharata of Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa, Volume 1




"The Pitris said, 'Venerable Brahmacharin, thou desirest to relieve us.
But, O foremost of Brahmanas, thou canst not dispel our affliction by thy
asceticism. O child, O first of speakers, we too have the fruits of our
asceticism. But, O Brahmana, it is for the loss of children that we are
falling down into this unholy hell. The grandsire himself hath said that
a son is a great merit. As we are about to be cast in this hole, our
ideas are no longer clear. Therefore, O child, we know thee not, although
thy manhood is well-known on earth. Venerable thou art and of good
fortune, thou who thus from kindness grievest for us worthy of pity and
greatly afflicted. O Brahmana, listen, who we are. We are Rishis of the
Yayavara sect, of rigid vows. And, O Muni, from loss of children, we have
fallen down from a sacred region. Our severe penances have not been
destroyed; we have a thread yet. But we have only one thread now. It
matters little, however, whether he is or is not. Unfortunate as we are,
we have a thread in one, known as Jaratkaru. The unfortunate one has gone
through the Vedas and their branches and is practising asceticism alone.
He being one with soul under complete control, desires set high,
observant of vows, deeply engaged in ascetic penances, and free from
greed for the merits or asceticism, we have been reduced to this
deplorable state. He hath no wife, no son, no relatives. Therefore, do we
hang in this hole, our consciousness lost, like men having none to take
care of them. If thou meetest him, O, tell him, from thy kindness to
ourselves, Thy Pitris, in sorrow, are hanging with faces downwards in a
hole. Holy one, take a wife and beget children. O thou of ascetic wealth,
thou art, O amiable one, the only thread that remaineth in the line of
thy ancestors. O Brahmana, the cord of virana roots that thou seest we
are hanging by, is the cord representing our multiplied race. And, O
Brahmana, these threads of the cord of virana roots that thou seest as
eaten away, are ourselves who have been eaten up by Time. This root thou
seest hath been half-eaten and by which we are hanging in this hole is he
that hath adopted asceticism alone. The rat that thou beholdest is Time
of infinite strength. And he (Time) is gradually weakening the wretch
Jaratkaru engaged in ascetic penances tempted by the merits thereof, but
wanting in prudence and heart. O excellent one, his asceticism cannot
save us. Behold, our roots being torn, cast down from higher regions,
deprived of consciousness by Time, we are going downwards like sinful
wretches. And upon our going down into this hole with all our relatives,
eaten up by Time, even he shall sink with us into hell. O child, whether
it is asceticism, or sacrifice, or whatever else there be of very holy
acts, everything is inferior. These cannot count with a son. O child,
having seen all, speak unto that Jaratkaru of ascetic wealth. Thou
shouldst tell him in detail everything that thou hast beheld. And, O
Brahmana, from thy kindness towards us, thou shouldst tell him all that
would induce him to take a wife and beget children. Amongst his friends,
or of our own race, who art thou, O excellent one, that thus grievest for
us all like a friend? We wish to hear who thou art that stayest here.'"



SECTION XLVI

(Astika Parva continued)

"Sauti said. 'Jaratkaru, hearing all this, became excessively dejected.
And from sorrow he spoke unto those Pitris in words obstructed by tears.'
And Jaratkaru said, 'Ye are even my fathers and grand-fathers gone
before. Therefore, tell me what I must do for your welfare. I am that
sinful son of yours, Jaratkaru! Punish me for my sinful deeds, a wretch
that I am.'

"The Pitris replied, saying, 'O son, by good luck hast thou arrived at
this spot in course of thy rambles. O Brahmana, why hast thou not taken a
wife?'

"Jaratkaru said. 'Ye Pitris, this desire hath always existed in my heart
that I would, with vital seed drawn up, carry this body to the other
world. My mind hath been possessed with the idea that I would not take a
wife. But ye grandsires, having seen you hanging like birds, I have
diverted my mind from the Brahmacharya mode of life. I will truly do what
you like. I will certainly marry, if ever I meet with a maiden of my own
name. I shall accept her who, bestowing herself of her own accord, will
be as aims unto me, and whom I shall not have to maintain. I shall marry
if I get such a one; otherwise, I shall not. This is the truth, ye
grandsires! And the offspring that will be begot upon her shall be your
salvation. And ye Pitris of mine, ye shall live for ever in blessedness
and without fear.'

'Sauti continued, 'The Muni, having said so unto the Pitris, wandered
over the earth again. And, O Saunaka, being old, he obtained no wife. And
he grieved much that he was not successful. But directed (as before) by
his ancestors, he continued the search. And going into the forest, he
wept loudly in great grief. And having gone into the forest, the wise
one, moved by the desire of doing good to his ancestors, said, 'I will
ask for a bride,' distinctly repeating these words thrice. And he said,
'Whatever creatures are here, mobile and immobile, so whoever there be
that are invisible, O, hear my words! My ancestors, afflicted with grief,
have directed me that am engaged in the most severe penances, saying,
'Marry thou for (the acquisition of) a son.' 'O ye, being directed by my
ancestors, I am roaming in poverty and sorrow, over the wide world for
wedding a maiden that I may obtain as alms. Let that creature, amongst
those I have addressed, who hath a daughter, bestow on me that am roaming
far and near. Such a bride as is of same name with me, to be bestowed on
me as alms, and whom, besides, I shall not maintain, O bestow on me!'
Then those snakes that had been set upon Jaratkaru track, ascertaining
his inclination, gave information to Vasuki. And the king of the snakes,
hearing their words, took with him that maiden decked with ornaments, and
went into the forest unto that Rishi. And, O Brahmana, Vasuki, the king
of the snakes, having gone there, offered that maiden as alms unto that
high-souled Rishi. But the Rishi did not at once accept her. And the
Rishi, thinking her not to be of the same name with himself, and seeing
that the question of her maintenance also was unsettled, reflected for a
few moments, hesitating to accept her. And then, O son of Bhrigu, he
asked Vasuki the maiden's name, and also said unto him, 'I shall not
maintain her.'"



SECTION XLVII

(Astika Parva continued)

"Sauti said, 'Then Vasuki spake unto the Rishi Jaratkaru these words, 'O
best of Brahmanas, this maiden is of the same name with thee. She is my
sister and hath ascetic merit. I will maintain thy wife; accept her. O
thou of ascetic wealth, I shall protect her with all my ability. And, O
foremost of the great Munis, she hath been reared by me for thee.' And
the Rishi replied, 'This is agreed between us that I shall not maintain
her; and she shall not do aught that I do not like. If she do, I leave
her!'

"Sauti continued, 'When the snake had promised, saying, 'I shall maintain
my sister,' Jaratkaru then went to the snake's house. Then that first of
mantra-knowing Brahmanas, observing rigid vows, that virtuous and veteran
ascetic, took her hand presented to him according to shastric rites. And
taking his bride with him, adored by the great Rishi, he entered the
delightful chamber set apart for him by the king of the snakes. And in
that chamber was a bed-stead covered with very valuable coverlets. And
Jaratkaru lived there with his wife. And the excellent Rishi made an
agreement with his wife, saying, 'Nothing must ever be done or said by
thee that is against my liking. And in case of thy doing any such thing,
I will leave thee and no longer continue to stay in thy house. Bear in
mind these words that have been spoken by me.'

"And then the sister of the king of the snakes in great anxiety and
grieving exceedingly, spoke unto him, saying, 'Be it so.' And moved by
the desire of doing good to her relatives, that damsel, of unsullied
reputation, began to attend upon her lord with the wakefulness of a dog,
the timidity of a deer, and knowledge of signs possessed by the crow. And
one day, after the menstrual period, the sister of Vasuki, having
purified herself by a bath according to custom, approached her lord the
great Muni; And thereupon she conceived. And the embryo was like unto a
flame of fire, possessed of great energy, and resplendent as fire itself.
And it grew like the moon in the bright fortnight.

"And one day, within a short time, Jaratkaru of great fame, placing his
head on the lap of his wife, slept, looking like one fatigued. And as he
was sleeping, the sun entered his chambers in the Western mountain and
was about to set. And, O Brahmana, as the day was fading, she, the
excellent sister of Vasuki, became thoughtful, fearing the loss of her
husband's virtue. And she thought, 'What should I now do? Shall I wake my
husband or not? He is exacting and punctilious in his religious duties.
How can I act as not to offend him? The alternatives are his anger and
the loss of virtue of a virtuous man. The loss of virtue, I ween, is the
greater of the two evils. Again, if I wake him, he will be angry. But if
twilight passeth away without his prayers being said, he shall certainly
sustain loss of virtue.'

'And having resolved at last, the sweet-speeched Jaratkaru, the sister of
Vasuki, spake softly unto that Rishi resplendent with ascetic penances,
and lying prostrate like a flame of fire, 'O thou of great good fortune,
awake, the sun is setting. O thou of rigid vows, O illustrious one, do
your evening prayer after purifying yourself with water and uttering the
name of Vishnu. The time for the evening sacrifice hath come. Twilight, O
lord, is even now gently covering the western side.'

"The illustrious Jaratkaru of great ascetic merit, thus addressed, spake
unto his wife these words, his upper lip quivering in anger, 'O amiable
one of the Naga race, thou hast insulted me. I shall no longer abide with
thee, but shall go where I came from. O thou of beautiful thighs, I
believe in my heart that the sun hath no power to set in the usual time,
if I am asleep. An insulted person should never live where he hath met
with the insult, far less should I, a virtuous person, or those that are
like me.' Jaratkaru, the sister of Vasuki, thus addressed by her lord,
began to quake with terror, and she spake unto him, saying, 'O Brahmana,
I have not waked thee from desire of insult; but I have done it so that
thy virtue may not sustain any loss.'

"The Rishi Jaratkaru, great in ascetic merit, possessed with anger and
desirous of forsaking his spouse, thus addressed, spake unto his wife,
saying, O thou fair one, never have I spoken a falsehood. Therefore, go I
shall. This was also settled between ourselves. O amiable one, I have
passed the time happily with thee. And, O fair one, tell thy brother,
when I am gone, that I have left thee. And upon my going away, it
behoveth thee not to grieve for me.'

"Thus addressed Jaratkaru, the fair sister of Vasuki, of faultless
features, filled with anxiety and sorrow, having mustered sufficient
courage and patience, though her heart was still quaking, then spake unto
Rishi Jaratkaru. Her words were obstructed with tears and her face was
pale with fear. And the palms of her hands were joined together, and her
eyes were bathed in tears. And she said, 'It behoveth thee not to leave
me without a fault. Thou treadest over the path of virtue. I too have
been in the same path, with heart fixed on the good of my relatives. O
best of Brahmanas, the object for which I was bestowed on thee hath not
been accomplished yet. Unfortunate that I am, what shall Vasuki say unto
me? O excellent one, the offspring desired of by my relatives afflicted
by a mother's curse, do not yet appear! The welfare of my relatives
dependeth on the acquisition of offspring from thee. And in order that my
connection with thee may not be fruitless, O illustrious Brahmana, moved
by the desire of doing good to my race do I entreat thee. O excellent
one, high-souled thou art; so why shall thou leave me who am faultless?
This is what is not just clear to me.'

"Thus addressed, the Muni of great ascetic merit spake unto his wife
Jaratkaru these words that were proper and suitable to the occasion. And
he said, 'O fortunate one, the being thou hast conceived, even like unto
Agni himself is a Rishi of soul highly virtuous, and a master of the
Vedas and their branches.'

"Having said so, the great Rishi, Jaratkaru of virtuous soul, went away,
his heart firmly fixed on practising again the severest penances.'"



SECTION XLVIII

(Astika Parva continued)

"Sauti said, 'O thou of ascetic wealth, soon after her lord had left her,
Jaratkaru went to her brother. And she told him everything that had
happened. And the prince of snakes, hearing the calamitous news, spake
unto his miserable sister, himself more miserable still.'

"And he said, 'Thou knowest, 'O amiable one, the purpose of thy bestowal,
the reason thereof. If, from that union, for the welfare of the snakes, a
son be born, then he, possessed of energy, will save us all from the
snake-sacrifice. The Grandsire had said so, of old, in the midst of the
gods. O fortunate one, hast thou conceived from thy union with that best
of Rishis? My heart's desire is that my bestowal of thee on that wise one
may not be fruitless. Truly, it is not proper for me to ask thee about
this. But from the gravity of the interests I ask thee this. Knowing also
the obstinacy of thy lord, ever engaged in severe penances, I shall not
follow him, for he may curse me. Tell me in detail all that thy lord, O
amiable one, hath done, and extract that terribly afflicting dart that
lies implanted for a long time past in my heart.'

"Jaratkaru, thus addressed, consoling Vasuki, the king of the snakes, at
length replied, saying, 'Asked by me about offspring, the high-souled and
mighty ascetic said, 'There is,'--and then he went away. I do not
remember him to have ever before speak even in jest aught that is false.
Why should he, O king, speak a falsehood on such a serious occasion? He
said, 'Thou shouldst not grieve, O daughter of the snake race, about the
intended result of our union. A son shall be born to thee, resplendent as
the blazing sun.' O brother, having said this to me, my husband of
ascetic wealth went away--Therefore, let the deep sorrow cherished in thy
heart disappear.'

"Sauti continued, 'Thus addressed, Vasuki, the king of the snakes,
accepted those words of his sister, and in great joy said, 'Be it so!'
And the chief of the snakes then adored his sister with his best regards,
gift of wealth, and fitting eulogies. Then, O best of Brahmanas, the
embryo endued with great splendour, began to develop, like the moon in
the heavens in the bright fortnight.

And in due time, the sister of the snakes, O Brahmana, gave birth to a
son of the splendour of a celestial child, who became the reliever of the
fears of his ancestors and maternal relatives. The child grew up there in
the house of the king of the snakes. He studied the Vedas and their
branches with the ascetic Chyavana, the son of Bhrigu. And though but a
boy, his vows were rigid. And he was gifted with great intelligence, and
with the several attributes of virtue, knowledge, freedom from the
world's indulgences, and saintliness. And the name by which he was known
to the world was Astika. And he was known by the name of Astika (whoever
is) because his father had gone to the woods, saying. 'There is', when he
was in the womb. Though but a boy, he had great gravity and intelligence.
And he was reared with great care in the palace of the snakes. And he was
like the illustrious lord of the celestials, Mahadeva of the golden form,
the wielder of the trident. And he grew up day by day, the delight of all
the snakes.'"



SECTION XLIX

(Astika Parva continued)

"Saunaka said, 'Tell me again, in detail,--all that king Janamejaya had
asked his ministers about his father's ascension to heaven.'

'Sauti said, 'O Brahmana, hear all that the king asked his ministers, and
all that they said about the death of Parikshit.'

"Janamejaya asked, 'Know ye all that befell my father. How did that
famous king, in time, meet with his death? Hearing from you the incidents
of my father's life in detail, I shall ordain something, if it be for the
benefit of the world. Otherwise, I shall do nothing.'

'The minister replied, 'Hear, O monarch, what thou hast asked, viz., an
account of thy illustrious father's life, and how also that king of kings
left this world. Thy father was virtuous and high-souled, and always
protected his people. O, hear, how that high-souled one conducted himself
on earth. Like unto an impersonation of virtue and justice, the monarch,
cognisant of virtue, virtuously protected the four orders, each engaged
in the discharge of their specified duties. Of incomparable prowess, and
blessed with fortune, he protected the goddess Earth. There was none who
hated him and he himself hated none. Like unto Prajapati (Brahma) he was
equally disposed towards all creatures. O monarch, Brahmanas and
Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras, all engaged contentedly in the
practice of their respective duties, were impartially protected by that
king. Widows and orphans, the maimed and the poor, he maintained. Of
handsome features, he was unto all creatures like a second Soma.
Cherishing his subjects and keeping them contented, blessed with good
fortune, truth-telling, of immense prowess, he was the disciple of
Saradwat in the science of arms. And, O Janamejaya, thy father was dear
unto Govinda. Of great fame, he was loved by all men. And he was born in
the womb of Uttara when the Kuru race was almost extinct. And, therefore,
the mighty son of Abhimanyu came to be called Parikshit (born in an
extinct line). Well-versed in the interpretation of treatises on the
duties of kings, he was gifted with every virtue. With passions under
complete control, intelligent, possessing a retentive memory, the
practiser of all virtues, the conqueror of his six passions of powerful
mind, surpassing all, and fully acquainted with the science of morality
and political science, the father had ruled over these subjects for sixty
years. And he then died, mourned by all his subjects. And, after him, O
first of men, thou hast acquired this hereditary kingdom of the Kurus for
the last thousand years. Thou wast installed while a child, and art thus
protecting every creature.'

"Janamejaya said, 'There hath not been born in our race a king who hath
not sought the good of his subjects or been loved by them. Behold
especially the conduct of my grandsires ever engaged in great
achievements. How did my father, blessed with many virtues, meet with his
death? Describe everything to me as it happened. I am desirous of hearing
it from you!'

"Sauti continued, 'Thus directed by the monarch, those councillors, ever
solicitous of the good of the king, told him everything exactly as it had
occurred.'

'And the councillors said, 'O king, that father of thine, that protector
of the whole earth, that foremost of all persons obedient to the
scriptures, became addicted to the sports of the field, even as Pandu of
mighty arms, that foremost of all bearers of the bow in battle. He made
over to us all the affairs of state from the most trivial to the most
important. One day, going into the forest, he pierced a deer with an
arrow. And having pierced it he followed it quickly on foot into the deep
woods, armed with sword and quiver. He could not, however, come upon the
lost deer. Sixty years of age and decrepit, he was soon fatigued and
became hungry. He then saw in the deep woods a high-souled Rishi. The
Rishi was then observing the vow of silence. The king asked him about the
deer, but, though asked, he made no reply. At last the king, already
tired with exertion and hunger, suddenly became angry with that Rishi
sitting motionless like a piece of wood in observance of his vow of
silence. Indeed, the king knew not that he was a Muni observing the vow
of silence. Swayed by anger, thy father insulted him. O excellent one of
the Bharata race, the king, thy father taking up from the ground with the
end of his bow a dead snake placed it on the shoulders of that Muni of
pure soul. But the Muni spake not a word good or bad and was without
anger. He continued in the same posture, bearing the dead snake.'"



SECTION L

(Astika Parva continued)

'Sauti continued, 'The ministers said, 'That king of kings then, spent
with hunger and exertion, and having placed the snake upon the shoulders
of that Muni, came back to his capital. The Muni had a son, born of a
cow, of the name of Sringin. He was widely known, possessed of great
prowess and energy, and very wrathful. Going (every day) to his preceptor
he was in the habit of worshipping him. Commanded by him, Sringin was
returning home, when he heard from a friend of his about the insult of
his father by thy parent. And, O tiger among kings, he heard that his
father, without having committed any fault, was bearing, motionless like
a statue, upon his shoulders a dead snake placed thereon. O king, the
Rishi insulted by thy father was severe in ascetic penances, the foremost
of Munis, the controller of passions, pure, and ever engaged in wonderful
acts. His soul was enlightened with ascetic penances, and his organs and
their functions were under complete control. His practices and his speech
were both very nice. He was contented and without avarice. He was without
meanness of any kind and without envy. He was old and used to observe the
vow of silence. And he was the refuge whom all creatures might seek in
distress.

"Such was the Rishi insulted by thy father. The son, however, of that
Rishi, in wrath, cursed thy father. Though young in years, the powerful
one was old in ascetic splendour. Speedily touching water, he spake,
burning as it were with spiritual energy and rage, these words in
allusion to thy father, 'Behold the power of my asceticism! Directed by
my words, the snake Takshaka of powerful energy and virulent poison,
shall, within seven nights hence, burn, with his poison the wretch that
hath placed the dead snake upon my un-offending father.' And having said
this, he went to where his father was. And seeing his father he told him
of his curse. The tiger among Rishis thereupon sent to thy father a
disciple of his, named Gaurmukha, of amiable manners and possessed of
every virtue. And having rested a while (after arrival at court) he told
the king everything, saying in the words of his master, 'Thou hast been
cursed, O king, by my son. Takshaka shall burn thee with his poison!
Therefore, O king, be careful.' O Janamejaya, hearing those terrible
words, thy father took every precaution against the powerful snake
Takshaka.

"And when the seventh day had arrived, a Brahmana Rishi, named Kasyapa,
desired to come to the monarch. But the snake Takshaka saw Kasyapa. And
the prince of snakes spake unto Kasyapa without loss of time, saying,
'Where dost thou go so quickly, and what is the business on which thou
goest?' Kasyapa replied, saying, 'O Brahmana, I am going whither king
Parikshit, that best of the Kurus, is. He shall today be burnt by the
poison of the snake Takshaka. I go there quickly in order to cure him, in
fact, in order that, protected by me, the snake may not bite him to
death.' Takshaka answered, saying, 'Why dost thou seek to revive the king
to be bitten by me? I am that Takshaka. O Brahmana, behold the wonderful
power of my poison. Thou art incapable of reviving that monarch when bit
by me.' So saying, Takshaka, then and there, bit a lord of the forest (a
banian tree). And the banian, as soon as it was bit by the snake, was
converted into ashes. But Kasyapa, O king, revived it. Takshaka thereupon
tempted him, saying, 'Tell me thy desire.' And Kasyapa, too, thus
addressed, spake again unto Takshaka, saying, 'I go there from desire of
wealth.' And Takshaka, thus addressed, then spake unto the high-souled
Kasyapa in these soft words, 'O sinless one, take from me more wealth
than what thou expectest from that monarch, and go back!' And Kasyapa,
that foremost of men, thus addressed by the snake, and receiving from him
as much wealth as he desired, wended his way back.

"And Kasyapa going back, Takshaka, approaching in disguise, blasted, with
the fire of his poison, thy virtuous father, the first of kings, then
staying in his mansion with all precautions. And after that, thou wast, O
tiger among men, been installed (on the throne). And, O best of monarchs,
we have thus told thee all that we have seen and heard, cruel though the
account is. And hearing all about the discomfiture of thy royal father,
and of the insult to the Rishi Utanka, decide thou that which should
follow!

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We do not know the women's names, but their voices are quite distinct. All are pregnant. But while the first woman awaits the birth of her baby with a moon-like serenity, the other two are not so lucky. One, whose previous pregnancies have failed to go to term, is experiencing a heartbreaking late miscarriage; the other is a young student whose accidental pregnancy will end in her child being put up for adoption.

Sylvia Plath's only play was never intended for the stage, being broadcast instead on BBC radio in August 1962. Less than six months later, Plath killed herself, but not before the burst of astonishing creative energy that produced her extraordinary, terrifying Ariel poems.

Anyone who knows Plath's poetry will see the connection between Three Women and Plath's subsequent poems, particularly in the way she talks about the agony of childbirth, the rush of love for this tiny alien being, and both the wonder and wounded rawness of motherhood. It is a beautiful piece, full of startling imagery that draws you in through the sheer intensity of its femaleness, and because it so precisely articulates the emotions that are often thought but seldom voiced by women - certainly not in the early 1960s - about men, motherhood and our relationship to our bodies.

It's been 20 years since there has been an attempt at a professional stage version and - in a theatre world that happily accepts the poetic offerings of Sarah Kane and Debbie Tucker Green, or the staged possibilities of The Waves, one of Plath's own inspirations for the piece, I see no reason why it shouldn't be brought to life. Sadly, it doesn't breathe here, in a production by Robert Shaw that is clearly a labour of love, but which never finds a way to give the internal a physical reality. Plath's poetry, like most babies, is more robust than it appears - and won't break if treated with a little less reverence and considerably more grit.

Instead, what we are offered is tinkling piano music, mournful mood lighting, an innocuous pale setting, as well as three perfectly good but indisputably ladylike performances that capture none of the wounded redness of Plath's poetry, and do her the disservice of making her sound bleached and somewhat prissy. It's a pity. What might have been a wonder ends up a mere curiosity.

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