Dhritarashtra reluctantly consents to the dice game despite Vidura's foresight

Duryodhana and Shakuni came to Dhritarashtra with their plan. The king’s first instinct was caution. “I always listen to the counsel of my brother, the great-souled Vidura,” he said. “I will decide on the course of action after meeting with him.” Duryodhana cut that line of thought off. “O Kourava! There is no doubt that Vidura will make you refrain from the resolution. He is engaged in the welfare of the Pandavas and not mine.” He argued that a man should not let another’s counsel dictate his task, for two minds seldom agree. He pushed with a son’s urgency. “Neither disease nor Yama wait for prosperity to come. Therefore, let us act for the good while there is time.” Dhritarashtra resisted. “O son! I never like a fight with those who are stronger. Enmity creates distortion, and that itself is a weapon, though it is not made of iron.” He saw the disaster taking shape. “You think that disaster will bring welfare, this terrible collection of quarrels. Once it starts, in one way or another, it will release bows, swords and arrows.” Duryodhana had an answer for that, too. “The ancient ones created the rules of dice. It leads to neither evil, nor blows.” He made it sound harmless, a civilized alternative to war. “Today, you should approve of Shakuni’s words. Let your instructions be issued for the swift construction of a sabha.” He framed it as a path to heaven, a way to stand equal to the Pandavas. “Approve of this act with the Pandavas and we will then stand equal to them.” Dhritarashtra looked at his son and spoke with the weariness of a man who sees the cliff’s edge but feels the ground giving way beneath him. “O Indra among men! I do not like the words that you utter. But do what brings you pleasure. Later, you will remember your words and suffer, because such words cannot bring prosperity to those who abide by dharma.” Then he revealed the prophecy that had been hanging over him. “A long time in the past, Vidura, who follows wisdom and learning, had foretold all this. The great calamity that will destroy the seed of the kshatriyas has now arrived and we are powerless.” Having said it, he surrendered. Vaishampayana said the wise Dhritarashtra decided that destiny alone was supreme. Fate robbed the king of his senses. He gave the orders. He commanded a sabha (assembly hall) of impossible opulence: one thousand pillars adorned with gold and lapis lazuli, a hundred gates with arches made of crystal, a hall one krosha long and one krosha wide. Thousands of artisans built it swiftly, stocking it with every kind of object. They informed the king it was ready, adorned with multicoloured gems and beautiful golden seats. Then Dhritarashtra turned to Vidura, the brother whose counsel he had just overridden. “Go to Prince Yudhishthira and swiftly bring him here at my command. Say that he and his brothers should come here and see this beautiful sabha that I have built… We will then have a game of dice among well-wishers.” Vidura did not approve. “O king! I do not approve of this errand. Do not do this. I fear the destruction of our lineage. O Indra among men! When the sons are disunited, a quarrel is certain and I am concerned about this game of dice.” Dhritarashtra’s reply was a sigh wrapped in resignation. “O Kshatta! Unless destiny turns adverse, I am not worried about a quarrel. The universe is under the control of the creator. The entire world does not run independently.” He repeated the command. “O Vidura! Therefore, today, go to the king at my command and quickly bring Kunti’s invincible son, Yudhishthira, here.” Knowing his son’s mind and believing fate could not be avoided, the lord of men sent the invitation. The stage was set.