Yudhishthira Defends His Promise to the Kurus

Bhima had spoken. The words were sharp, and they cut. He had reminded Yudhishthira of everything — the dice game, the loss of the kingdom, the twelve years in the forest, the thirteenth year in hiding, the slavery of Draupadi. He had called his elder brother weak, foolish, the cause of all their suffering. Yudhishthira listened. Then he answered. "O descendant of the Bharata lineage! There is no doubt that all this is true. Your sharp words pierce me like barbs and weaken me. But I cannot blame you." He did not deny what Bhima said. He accepted it. But he needed Bhima to understand what had actually happened in that sabha — because Bhima had not seen what Yudhishthira had seen. "I took up the dice with a desire to take away the sovereignty and kingdom of Dhritarashtra's son," Yudhishthira said. He had not walked into the game blindly. He had walked in intending to win. What he had not known was that Shakuni — Subala's son, the dweller of the mountains — was knowledgeable in great maya (illusion). Shakuni hurled the dice in the middle of the sabha, and the dice always followed his wishes, favouring him in odds and evens. Yudhishthira had no maya of his own to counter it. He saw the deceit only when it was too late. "I was capable of restraining my mind then," he said. "But anger robs a man of his patience. The self cannot be controlled when it is overcome by manliness, pride and valour." He did not take umbrage at Bhima's words. He thought this was destined to be. Then he reminded Bhima of what had happened when they were summoned back to the sabha for the second game. Suyodhana had laid out the terms in front of all the Bharatas: twelve years in the forest, then one year in concealment without being detected. If the spies of the Bharatas found them during that year, they would have to spend another similar period. But if they succeeded — if they confounded his spies — Suyodhana had promised, in that same assembly of Kurus, that they would have the five rivers back. "And I gave my promise," Yudhishthira said. "That abominable game of dice then began there. All of us were defeated and exiled." He asked Bhima a question: "Having entered into an agreement before righteous ones, who would wish to break it for the sake of a kingdom? As an arya, I think that transgression of dharma is worse than death, even for the sake of ruling the earth." And then he turned Bhima's own anger back on him — not to wound, but to make a point. "You could have performed a brave deed then. You grasped your club at the time of the gamble. Had Phalguna not restrained you, you would have burnt my arms. O Bhima! That would not have been a misdeed then. Since you are aware of your manliness, why did you not speak up then and perform the deed at its appointed time? You have found the time now, when it is too late." But Yudhishthira had suffered too. "I suffered from misery even more, when I saw Yajnaseni oppressed and though we saw it, we restrained ourselves. O Bhima! That was like drinking a poisonous juice." There was nothing to be done now. The agreement had been made in the midst of the Kuru warriors. They had to wait for the time — until their happiness dawned again, like those who sow seeds wait for the fruit. "If someone has been vanquished through deceit earlier and knows that the enmity will bear flowers and fruit," Yudhishthira said, "such a brave one truly lives in the world of the living and obtains many qualities through his manliness." He ended with a statement that was not a boast, but a declaration of what he was made of: "Know that the promise I made will be true. I think dharma is superior to immortality and life. The kingdom, sons, fame, wealth — all of these are worth only a small fragment of truth."