The End of the Kurukshetra War

The agonizing despair-laden wails of newly widowed women and orphaned children covered the battlefield at Kurukshetra like a thick, suffocating, nauseating blanket. Yudhishthira, the eldest Pandava, was so deeply anguished with the sorrow he witnessed all around him that he wanted to throw up. But, how can a king show himself to be weak?

So, he steeled himself looking down at the corpse of his dead cousin, Duryodhana, the eldest Kaurava, his thighs torn asunder by Bheema, the second Pandava. 

Yudhishthira thought to himself, “I should be celebrating. I have won the great Mahabharata War. I am the undisputed emperor. All the injustices my family had suffered were corrected. The Pandavas have emerged victorious. And yet, why does my heart feel heavy? Why can’t I be happy?”

And then, the event he dreaded the most came by. His Aunt Gandhari, the mother of the Kauravas, the faithful wife who chose to blindfold herself to live life like her blind husband, Dhridharashtra, came to mourn the death of Duryodhana, her eldest and most beloved son. 

The sound of her wails seemed to fall like hot wax into Yudhisthira’s ears. He rushed to catch her fall as she stumbled on the body of her son. He made her sit next to Duryodhana, and everyone, including Krishna, the mentor and guru of the Pandavas, looked down at the ground, not daring to meet Gandhari’s eyes. 

Her eyes blazed with anger-filled anguish which appeared to pass through the white blindfold, ready to set fire to anyone who dared to meet her eyes.

When Gandhari’s first bout of grief reached controllable levels, she called out to Krishna who came rushing to her side and helped her stand up. She cringed at his touch, pushing him away. 

“Don’t touch me, Krishna!” Everyone was shocked at her behaviour because until now she had revered and worshipped him. 

“You could’ve stopped this, Krishna. Look at my situation. Eighteen days ago, I was the mother of a hundred brave warrior sons. Today, all but one lie dead on this horrific battlefield. You are the manifestation of the all-knowing divine being. It was in your power to avert this tragedy. You didn’t do it!  You are responsible for the death of my family, Krishna. Because it was in your power to stop this war! And you chose not to do it.”

“No, my dear aunt. It was not in my power to stop this deluge. It was all part of the karmic cycle of each and every active and passive participant in the war!” Krishna tried hard to explain but to no avail. 

Gandhari’s grief slowly but surely turned to livid rage, and she cursed Krishna drawing on every ounce of her grief-powered maternal strength. 

“Just as I helplessly watch my sons lying dead on this battlefield, you will watch helplessly as all the Yadava members will lie dead, 36 years hence!”

Everyone except Krishna was utterly stunned at Gandhari’s curse. The Pandavas tried to coax her to take back her bitter words. But Krishna stopped them. He bowed respectfully to Gandhari. “I feel honoured that you chose the end of me and my clan! I am also not free from karmic effects, and your curse substantiates my actions. I pray to all the gods and goddesses that you find peace in your grief.”

Gandhari left the battlefield, supported by her maids. She knew that her heart would stop aching only at her death. 

The Beginning of the End of Krishna Avatar

Samba, son of Krishna and Jambavati, stood dressed as a pregnant woman in front of a group of revered sages who were passing through Dwarka. He was trying his best not to giggle from beneath his disguise even as his group of friends tried to hide their frivolous laughter beneath seemingly serious faces. He didn’t want one of his best pranks to fall apart yet. He heard one of his friends address the rishis.

“Oh, wise sages! This is my pregnant wife. Can you use your powers and tell me if she will deliver a baby girl or boy?” The arrogant, foolish lads had underestimated the knowledge and mental powers of the rishis who realized they were being pranked and were not amused at all. 

They cursed Samba, “This person will give birth to an iron mace which will be the cause of the destruction of the Yadava clan.”

In a fit of panic, Samba threw off his disguise to find his stomach heavy and full of something unpleasant. Out of the blue even as he shrieked in torturous pain, a large iron mace fell out of his abdomen. Now, the boys lost all their frivolous mirth and laughter. The rishis looked on in sadness as they realized the import of their curse. They went on their way knowing every karmic cycle will have to end according to its own destiny. 

Samba rushed to King Ugrasena who was also his great-grandfather and explained all that happened. Deeply saddened and ashamed of their behaviour, yet driven by his loyalty to Krishna’s son and the Yadava clan, King Ugrasena advised Samba. “Break the iron mace and make it into a fine powder. Then scatter the powder in the sea at Prabhasa.”

Samba did as he was ordered. One piece of that mace could not be powdered despite all their efforts. So, they decided to leave it as it is. They scattered the powder into the sea and returned home. The powdered iron washed ashore where they grew into a thick bed of eraka grass. That unbroken piece was swallowed by a huge fish.

Krishna was furious at his son. “How dare you do such a thing, Samba? Did you not learn manners and civility? How could you grow up into such an offensive lad?”

His father’s hurtful words stirred a curdling resentment in Samba. He retorted angrily, “You don’t really have the right to judge me, father. You hardly gave your time and energy to your children and family. You cared more for the Kuru clan than us. I don’t think I owe you an explanation. That I chose to go to King Ugrasena instead of you when I was in trouble is enough to tell you my feelings for you.” Samba stormed out of his father’s chambers. 

Krishna was left stunned and in tears. He went to sleep with a heavy heart, yearning for a loving and consoling word from anyone. 

Mother Yashoda came to him. Krishna rushed to her and took refuge in her warm, loving embrace. “Oh, mother! I needed you today. How did you know?”

“A child may forget his mother. A mother will never forget her child.”

“I don’t think I’ve been a good parent, Mother Yashoda!”

“Hush, my child! You did your best and each of us is born for a different purpose. Anyway, it will be time soon!”

Krishna awoke in a sweat and realized he had been dreaming. And yet, he knew that the last line Mother Yashodha said to him was true. He just had to wait for the time to come. Until then, he would have to continue doing his duty for the people of Dwarka and the Yadava clan.

The End of Krishna Avatar

Suddenly, Jara felt a stab of pain in his chest. He found himself falling to the ground clutching the arrow that came out of nowhere. The arrow had found its mark. Blood gushed out in a steady stream from his wounded heart, and in an instant, his entire chest and abdomen were bloodied.

He saw a dark-coloured handsome man in the garb of a forest-dweller walk towards him. He thought he recognized the man whose face oozed calmness and peace. He wanted to fold his hands in respect, and yet he was uncertain. A lot of people rushed around him. He could hear different people calling out to him in different ways.

“Brother!” said a voice.

“Father!” said another.

“My darling husband!” said a third. Everyone around him was crying in deep, helpless grief. His breathing became exceedingly difficult and his heart stopped.

Every night, at this point, Jara would wake up gasping for breath. When he awoke, he felt an inexplicable surge of anger against the dark-skinned handsome man in his dream. Why? Why? Why was this dream tormenting him every night? What was he to make of it? 

It was the same nightmare that haunted him for nearly a year now since that day when he went fishing with his fishermen friends and caught one of the biggest catches of the day. That fish was the first and the only one Jara caught. He was a hunter, not a fisherman!

He recalled the events of that day. All his friends cheered him although some of them joked and called it, “beginner’s luck.” But to Jara, that fish seemed to come on its own to him. He could see its bright eyes looking up at him through the water and enticing him to throw down the bait. It seemed it wanted to be caught by him! 

He had brought the fish home and his wife and kids were thrilled with it. While cleaning it, his wife found a sharp piece of iron in the fish’s stomach. She gave the piece of iron to her husband saying, “This might be a good piece for an arrowhead.”

Mara was fascinated by it. The minute he touched it, he felt the stirrings of anger and resentment, the same feelings he experienced when he awoke after the nightmare. Dismissing the feelings, he made an excellent arrowhead with the piece of iron. 

Strangely, he couldn’t use it on his regular hunting trips. Each time he took the arrowhead to hunt, he would miss his target and return empty-handed, and his family would go hungry that day. It was only when he left it safe at home did Jara return with a catch for his family. So, he stopped taking it on his hunting trips. 

He wanted to throw away the piece, especially when he realized that the relentless nightmares tortured his soul. But he couldn’t bring himself to throw it too. It remained unused in his box, perhaps for a special victim.

Krishna’s Dwarka Submerges

Dark omens warned of catastrophe. Krishna’s powerful weapon, the Sudarshan Chakra disappeared along with his divine conch, the Panchajanya. Balarama’s splendid weapon, the plough, disappeared too. 

Sin and mindless sensual and materialistic pleasure ruled Dwarka. Both Krishna and his brother, Balarama, tried hard to reason with their clan members who had turned wildly arrogant, proud, and hedonistic. The brothers warned them of severe consequences if they don’t give up their unruliness and vanity and restore the lost humility and morality in the Yadava society. But nothing worked. 

Finally, Krishna ordered everyone to go on a pilgrimage to Prabhasa and take a holy dip in the sacred waters of the sea, in the hope of setting things right. When the Yadavas reached Prabhasa, instead of following Krishna’s orders, they indulged in senseless alcohol-induced revelry and endless merrymaking.

Soon, the intoxicated Yadavas couldn’t distinguish between revelry and rivalry. The Andhakas and Vrishnis, the two most powerful Yadava sects, started fighting with each other. They had no weapons considering they were on a pilgrimage. 

So, they started pulling out the eraka grass that grew on the seashore. As soon as the grass was pulled out, each blade turned into a sharp weapon. And thus, every Yadava had a deadly weapon in his hand. What followed was an unstoppable bloody war that annihilated the entire Yadava clan. 

Krishna watched helplessly as his family members fell dead one after another. Aunt Gandhari’s curse was being played out. The time had come. He watched his elder brother, Balarama, walk away from the carnage, his head bent in shame. And as he did so, a serpent escaped from his body which vanished into thin air. Adishesh, Vishnu’s constant companion in Vaikunta, his heavenly abode, was returning home to prepare it for Vishnu’s return. Krishnavatar was coming to an end.

Krishna walked to the edge of the forest and sat on the floor leaning against a large tree, He put his right leg over his left and waited for the inevitable!

Jara was flustered and angry. He hadn’t had a catch in a week and his family was starving. He needed a good hunt for his hungry family.  Suddenly he saw what he believed was the eye of a deer peeping out from behind a tree close to the shore. Happily, he took out an arrow and only then realized it was the one with the special arrowhead. He didn’t remember putting it in his quiver that day. But now, all he had his eyes for was the deer’s eyes. 

Taking the stance of an experienced archer, he pulled the bow, made sure the arrowhead pointed precisely at the target, and let go! The arrow sped through the forest and hit the bull’s eye in an instant. He whooped in joy. However, the human cry of pain that followed struck Jara with a feeling of horror.

What had he done? Wasn’t that the eye of a deer? He rushed to the place and was stunned to see the dark-coloured man of his dreams hit by his special arrow. But now he was dressed like a prince and not in the garb of a forest dweller. 

He fell at the man’s feet and cried, “What have I done? Who are you? Your toe looked just like a deer’s eyes. Can you forgive me?” Krishna touched Jara’s shoulders, and replied smilingly, “Yes! If you can forgive me for shooting at you from behind a tree, Vali.”

In an instant, Jara recalled his previous birth in which he was Vali, the King of the Vanaras. He looked on with tears in his eyes and said, “Oh! Rama! I didn’t want revenge! Why did you make me do this now?”

“Because that conjoined karmic cycle of ours required to see the end of the day too. Only then, can you find the peace to live your present life fully and well! Don’t grieve or feel guilty for your act! You have already paid the price for it! It is now my turn to pay!”

Blessing Jara thus, Krishna closed his eyes. The ubiquitous peacock feather adorning his crown rose heavenwards. Jara looked on until it disappeared out of his vision!

This blog post is part of the blog challenge ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla
in collaboration with Dr. Preeti Chauhan.