Dhritarashtra confesses his grief and guilt to Sanjaya

The Pandavas were gone, defeated at dice and exiled to the forest. Dhritarashtra, lord of the earth, sat in his palace. He sighed. His mind was far away, distracted by a worry that would not loosen its grip. His charioteer and confidant Sanjaya approached. “O lord of the earth,” he said. “You have obtained the entire earth with all its riches. The Pandavas have left the kingdom. Why are you grieving?” Dhritarashtra’s answer was simple and terrible. “The maharatha Pandavas are terrible in battle and have allies. Knowing that the enmity will occur, should one not sorrow?” Sanjaya pressed the point. “O king, this great enmity is the consequence of your great deed. There will be complete destruction of the entire world and all the relatives.” He reminded him of the specific moment: “Though restrained by Bhishma, Drona and Vidura, your shameless and evil-minded son Duryodhana sent the Pratikamin, the son of a suta, to bring the Pandavas’ beloved wife Droupadi, the follower of dharma.” Then Dhritarashtra began to speak. It was not a defense. It was a confession, a lament for a catastrophe he saw clearly but had been powerless to stop. “When the gods wish to defeat a man,” he said, “they first take his intelligence away, so that his vision becomes distorted.” He described the inversion that precedes doom: when destruction is nigh, an improper course of action appears as the proper course and sticks to the heart. What is evil appears in the form of what is good, and what is good appears evil. “Destiny does not arrive with a club and strike one on the head with it. The strength of time is that it makes the opposite seem to be right.” He turned to the event itself. “By dragging the ascetic Panchali into the middle of the sabha, those evil ones have caused this terrible calamity that makes the hair on the body stand up.” He described her: beautiful, not born from a womb but from the fire, illustrious, knowledgeable in all dharma. “Who but a deceitful gambler could overpower her and drag her into the middle of an assembly hall?” He saw her there, covered in blood, in a single garment, looking at her husbands — robbed of their riches, their thoughts, their wife, their prosperity, all pleasures, reduced to servitude. “Bound by the noose of dharma, they were unable to exhibit their valour.” And among all the assembled Kurus, Duryodhana and Karna spoke harsh and insulting words to the angry, defiant, and miserable Krishna. “O Sanjaya,” Dhritarashtra said, “the earth itself would be burnt down because of those wretched eyes. Would anything have been left of my sons?” He recounted the omens that followed, the universe recoiling. On seeing Krishna dragged in, all the women of the Bharata lineage assembled with Gandhari cried out in anguish. Evening agnihotras (sacrificial fires) were not offered, because the brahmanas were enraged. Terrible winds blew. Meteors fell. Rahu swallowed the sun out of season. Fearful fires blazed in the chariot houses. All the flagstaffs crumbled. In Duryodhana’s own agnihotra, jackals howled, and donkeys brayed back from all directions. The elders left in protest. “Bhishma then left with Drona and so did Kripa, Somadatta and the maharatha Bahlika.” It was then, prompted by Vidura, that Dhritarashtra had spoken to Krishna. “I told Krishna that I would grant her whatever boon she desired.” Panchali chose the Pandavas, and Dhritarashtra allowed them to leave with their chariots and bows. But it was not over. The immensely wise Vidura, who knew all dharma, had then spoken words of warning to the entire assembly. ‘O descendants of the Bharata lineage! This dragging of Krishna into the assembly hall will bring about your destruction. The daughter of the king of Panchala is the supreme Shri. It was decreed by destiny that Panchali would marry the Pandavas. The angry Parthas will never pardon her humiliation. Nor will the mighty archers, the Vrishnis, or the immensely energetic Panchalas. They are protected by Vasudeva, always fixed on the truth. Surrounded by the Panchalas, Bibhatsu will return. Among them, there will be the immensely strong and mighty archer Bhimasena. He will come whirling his club, like the staff of death. No kings will be able to withstand the sound of the intelligent Partha’s Gandiva, or the speed of Bhima’s club. Therefore, it seems to me that one should always have peace, and not war, with the Parthas. I have always thought that the Pandavas are stronger than the Kurus. With the force of his arms, Bhima killed in battle the immensely radiant and powerful King Jarasandha. O bull among the Bharata lineage! You must ensure peace with the Pandavas. Without any hesitation, act impartially vis-à-vis the two parties.’ Dhritarashtra fell silent for a moment, then delivered his final admission to Sanjaya. “O son of Gavalgana! Thus did Kshatta utter words that were steeped in dharma and artha (righteousness and statecraft). But out of the affection I bear for my son, I did not accept these words.”

Dhritarashtra confesses his grief and guilt to Sanjaya

The Aftermath of Exile and Prophecies of Doom