Mahabaratha, viz., Sindhara’s Death.
“And oft at night when ended was their toil, The villagers with souls enraptured heard him In fiery accents speak of Krishna’s deeds And Rama’s warlike skill, and wondered that He knew so well the deities they adored.”
THE two great national epics of India, the Ram- ayana and the Mahabarata, have in every age charmed their readers and powerfully exerted their ennobling influence on the character and modes of thought of the people of this country. This is partly owing to the fact that they have intrinsic merit of their own, as being the grandest literary achievements of India’s master minds, and in a great measure owing to the strong conviction that they are Thévakathas (stories of God). Hence they have a powerful hold on the minds of a people who are known to be extremely religious, who are taught to believe by their sacred writings that to hear or read the divine stories is to secure the path to heaven, and whose whole effort in thought and action has been directed towards the attainment of perpetual beatitude after death. No other work in India at the present day possesses the attraction which these epics have for the majority of the people. The pious Hindu will walk great distances, will sit up for hours and will be ready to forego all sorts of conveniences, if he only gets an opportunity to hear these divine stories, though it may be for the hun- dredth time. Various ways are devised to entertain the people with the stirring incidents of the Ramayana and the Mahabarata. They are produced on the stage in the form of plays, they are recited by professional bards in lyric verse, and they are expounded to the public in plain prose. No wonder therefore that profes- sional preachers are found everywhere in the country, even in obscure villages, who sermonize on the popular incidents to be found in the Ramayana and the Mahabarata, and that willing ears are ever found ready to listen to them and help them to gain an easy and comfortable living.
In Kélambakam, the preacher who delights its inhabitants is Nalla Pillai, the schoolmaster. He has read very carefully all the fourteen thousand stanzas of his great-grandfather’s Mahabarata in Tamil, and at night in the summer season, when the villagers have nothing to do, he explains them to the people. His fame as a preacher is pretty well established, and people from the neighbouring villages attend his preaching. I myself had once the pleasure and privilege of hearing this preacher of Kélambakam, and I will here give what fell from his lips, word for word. People came pouring in from Kélambakam and from neigh- bouring villages to the house of the village headman. On the pial of his house was seated the preacher. Before him was placed the picture of Krishna playing the flute and leaning on a cow. The picture was profusely decorated with flowers. There were also two small vessels. In one there were camphor and some burning incense, in the other were flowers and fruits. The people swarmed about like bees. Some were seated in the open street, and others on the pials of the neighbouring houses, the whole audience being eager to catch the words that fell from the preacher’s lips. At eight o’clock, the preaching commenced. The moon was shining over the motley crowd who had assembled to hear the doings of their favourite deity. There was dead silence. The camphor was first lighted and incense burnt. The preacher knelt down before the picture, and then seating himself commenced to speak. The story related by him that night was Sindhava’s Death. He said:—
" Great and noble men! Yesterday I recounted to you the wondrous deeds of Abhimanna, the worthy son of Arjuna, by his wife Subhadra, Krishna’s sister. I told you how this young lion of the Pandus, this worthy son of his worthy father, fought against great odds in the field of battle, killing with his destructive arrows his enemies by thousands and tens of thousands. I told you how, like a brand thrown on a huge heap of dried grass, he committed havoc on the enemy’s camp. Like the morning sun rising in all his glory, he went forth to battle to fight, and as the bright rays of that luminary, as he ascends the meridian sky, grow fiercer and fiercer, so grew the courage of this young warrior. The fiercer the battle, the greater was the courage shown by him in the field of battle. He pierced the invulnerable army of the enemy. He broke the lotus forma- tion, killed thousands of thousands of huge elephants and mettled horses ; he disabled the strongly built chariots of the enemy and gave to crows and eagles those who dared to oppose him. Blood flowed like water, and the havoc committed among the enemy’s forces was tremendous. Mangled corpses of gaily decked warriors and richly caparisoned elephants and horses, lay thickly strewn on that field of battle. The enemy was terror-stricken, and for a time knew not what to do. When Abhimanna went into the midst of the army arranged like the lotus, he was hemmed in on all sides by the hostile forces. He fought against great odds and his chariot was disabled. On foot he fought, sending destruction and death to the right of him, to the left of him, in front of him, and behind him—so that even the boldest warrior in the hostile camp was afraid to approach this young lion. The work of destruc- tion was awful. But the surging mass still pressed against him, and he was unable to extricate himself from his perilous position. This skilled warrior pierced deep into the army, and went into the midst of the lotus formation; but was unable to return to his ranks. I will tell you how it was that he failed to return victorious to his father. During the last months of Subhadra’s pregnancy, when Abhim- anna was in his mother’s womb, our saviour Krishna, who is related to her as brother, was one night describing to her, to while away her time, the arts of war, and was vividly explaining how the different formations of the army such as Pathmavyugam (lotus formation), Sakatavyugam (chariot formation), Magarav- yugam (fish formation) are constructed. While he was explaining to her the Pathmavyugam, she fell asleep. The child in the womb was care- fully attending to what was being said by Krishna, who came to know that the mother was asleep, and that the child was hearing him on behalf of the mother, just when he finished his explanation of the lotus construction. There he stopped, and unfortunately did not explain how the same construction should be broken. Thus it was that poor Abhimanna, who went into the very midst of the lotus, did not know how to get out again. He was in great straits, and as a last resource took out his conch shell and blew it with all his might so that its warning voice might apprise his father of his dangerous position. At this juncture Krishna purposely blew his conch shell in another part of the field, and thereby drowned the sound that issued from Abhimanna’s shell. Thus poor Abhimanna, hemmed in on all sides, fell on the field of battle, slain by Sindhava, the brave ruler of the Sindhus. Like the morning sun he went forth in all his glory to the field of battle; like the meridian sun he fought fiercely, sending his scorching arrows and killing all that dared to oppose him; and like the setting sun sinking into the western ocean, his corpse fell down in the ocean of blood that flowed from the bodies of the elephants, horses, and fighting warriors, killed by his arrows. What a sad fall there was, when the noblest and the bravest of the Pandava army fell fighting alone in the field of battle!
“News of Abhimanna’s sad death was carried to the Pandava army that very night; but human tongue cannot express the inexpressible grief with which his father, the high-souled Arjuna, was afflicted! He wept, beat his breast, and bit his lips. He brought to his memory the beauteous form of his late beloved son, his prowess and his skill in war, and he sobbed and wept. His brother-in-law Krishna tried to con- sole him, but he refused to be consoled, saying that the loss he had sustained was irreparable. Krishna said: ‘Thou noble Dhananjaya! Why should a Kshatriya and a warrior such as thou art weep like a child, weep for him, who, like one worthy of his martial race, died in the field of battle facing the enemy? He is now in Viraswarga, that abode in heaven where warriors dying in battle enjoy for ever God’s presence. You should be proud of such a son; why then grieve for him?’ These words had no effect upon the sorrow-stricken father, who still questioned his men as to how his son fought in battle, what armies he routed and who in the end killed him; and when he was told that Sindhava, the ruler of the Sindhus and Duriyod- hana’s brother-in-law, was the cause of his dear son’s death, his sorrow was suddenly turned to anger, and in the presence of Krishna, of his own brothers, and of his assembled men, he vowed vengeance on the man who slew his son.
‘If by to-morrow evening,’ he exclaimed,‘before the setting of the sun, I do not, with this my gandiba, kill the slayer of my son, that wretch who slew a young child, and brought on me all this misery, that sinner for whom the worst part of hell is reserved—if before the set- ting of the sun to-morrow I do not kill him, I will throw myself on the burning pyre and be consumed to ashes. Be witness to this my vow, O mother earth, ye spirits of the firmament, and all ye gods! my faithful gandiba that hast through all my life so faithfully assisted me, be thou also a witness! If I do not keep this vow, the worst part of hell shall be reserved for me. That place in Yama’s abode which is set apart for him that killed a thousand Brahmins, a thousand cows, a thousand poor innocent chil- dren, and a thousand weak and helpless women, shall be mine also. If I fail to act up to my vow, I shall be deemed a worse sinner than he that killed his own father and mother, than he that misappropriated the money set apart for the upkeep of a charity, than he that demolished a temple.’ Thus spake this noble king of the lunar race, this martial Kshatriya.
“Thus resolved, this brave warrior who routed in battle even Indra at once set himself to his task, and courted the assistance of Krishna to secure for him the Pasupathasthra, that war instrument of Mahadeva which alone could kill Sindhava. Then said our saviour Krishna ; and who is he but the Avatar of Vishnu— ’ Who am I ?’ he said. ’ I am none other than Brahma, the creator. I am none other than Vishnu, the preserver, and I am Siva, the destroyer. I am all three in one. I am one in three. Did I not teach you this great truth before you went to battle against the Kurus— that in whatever place, at whatever time, in whatever manner, and in whatever form, my believers wish to worship me, I will, in that place, at that time, in that manner, and in that very form, appear before them and grant their prayer. I am the one great power in the universe, the great cause which is itself without a cause. And what are Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, but the attributes of one great principle pervading the whole of the vast universe. All things in the world, men, beasts, birds, reptiles, all inanimate things, and even this vast universe, pass through three stages. They have their birth, their growth, and their decay; and of these three stages I am the cause. Hence I am called Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Siva, the destroyer. Though I am called by these three names on account of the functions that I perform, still I am the one great principle in this universe that underlies all these, the uncaused, indestructible, ever- living principle. Worship me, therefore, in this very place, as Mahadeva, and you will have your prayer granted at once.’ Accordingly Arjuna fell down and worshipped Krishna, and the Pasupathasthra of Siva was vouchsafed to him. Next morning, Arjuna rose, put on his best armour, and amidst the praises of bards who proclaimed his titles, the great deeds he achieved and his prowess and skill in war, amidst the beating of drums and the blessings of good and righteous men, went forth to the field of battle, resolved before the setting of the sun to slay Sindhava and give his carcase to the jackals and other beasts of the earth, and to the birds of the air, or die on the burning pyre true to the vow he so angrily uttered the previous night.
“What at this time was the state of matters in the enemy’s camp? News of Arjuna’s vow against Sindhava was carried to king Duriyodhana and his men, and sent a thrill of horror throughout the whole camp. The king and the commander-in-chief, the brave Drona, at once devised plans to save poor Sindhava from Arjuna’s arrows. They said : ‘ This Sindhava is a brave man and we cannot afford to lose him. He is of immense service to us, and if till to-morrow night we manage to keep him out of Arjuna’s reach, Sindhava will be saved, and Arjuna, true to his vow, will die himself on the burning pyre. Without Arjuna, the Pandava army is worth nothing, and could be very easily routed.’ So saying, they made arrangements for keeping Sindhava out of the brave Arjuna’s reach. Early in the morning, long before that warrior commenced to fight against them, they arranged their army in the forefront like a chariot ; behind the chariot another portion of their large army was ar- ranged in the form of a fish ; and behind this fish formation a portion was arranged in the form of a lotus ; and in the midst of this lotus formation, Sindhava, the object of brave Ar- juna’s search, was safely hidden. These for- mations were several miles in length. Drona, the commander-in-chief, placed himself in the forefront at the head of the army. Eighteen akronis of troops were engaged that day against Arjuna. You may perhaps ask how much an akroni is. This I will now tell you. One war chariot, one elephant, three horses, and five fighting men make one panthi. Three panthis make one senimuka. Three senimukas form one gulma. Three gulmas go to make one gana. Three ganas form one vahini. Three vahinis make one prithana. Three prithanas go to form one chamu. Three chamus make one anikini, and ten anikinis make one akroni. So that we have for each akroni 21,870 war chariots, 21,870 elephants, 65,610 horses, and 109,350 soldiers. And when I say that eighteen akronis of troops were engaged that day, you can realize for yourselves the magni- tude of the army that opposed Arjuna.
“Nothing daunted, Arjuna went forth to battle and fought bravely. His wonderful exploits struck terror into the enemy’s forces. But alas, it was midday when he with difficulty pierced into the midst of the chariot forma- tion. He had still to break through the fish formation and the lotus formation behind it. He tried hard, but it was impossible for him to reach the place where Sindhava was hidden. It was beyond human power to accomplish this difficult task. The far-seeing Krishna noticed the gravity of the situation. The day was fast drawing to a close and the setting sun was gradually approaching the western horizon ; and Arjuna was only able to get into the midst of the chariot formation. In these circumstances, Sindhava’s death was an utter impossibility.
Accordingly, when there were yet five naligais 1 ere the day should close, Krishna directed his chakra to hide the sun. The chakra did so, and darkness spread over the land. But how was it that the chakra, which is brighter than the sun, brought on darkness? This is the reason. Once upon a time, when the good king Ambarisha ruled the land, he wished to acquire religious merit by fasting on every ekadasi day, and taking his food with as many Brahmins as he could secure on the morning of the next day. In this matter, he acted strictly in accordance with the rules laid down in our Shastras. Indra grew envious of the good work which the king was doing, and requested the well-known Rishi Thuruvasaka to throw obstacles in the way of the king while engaged in the accomplishment of his vow. One morning, the Rishi went to the king in the disguise of a Brahmin and asked to be fed with the other Brahmins. The king consented, and requested Thuruvasaka to go to the river, and return as soon as possible after performing his morning ablutions. The Brahmin did not return, and king Ambarisha was in a dilemma. He did not know what to do. If he did not take his food early in the morning as enjoined in the holy writings, all the religious merit he had hitherto acquired by the strict performance of his vow would be lost ; and if on the other hand he partook of his meals without the Brahmin who went to bathe, promising to return in time, he would be committing a great sin, for it is a great sin to eat food when a Brahmin is starving. While in this serious difficulty, he was advised to take a leaf of the sacred Tulsi plant and a little water. As soon as these were taken, the Brahmin returned, and seeing what the king had done, pronounced a curse upon him. Vishnu’s chakra, which was guarding the king from all kinds of evils, was enraged at the wily and dishonest conduct of the Rishi, and began to pursue him with the intention of killing him. The poor Rishi ran to Indra, then to Siva, and then to Vishnu him- self for protection. He fell at the feet of Vishnu and implored his pardon. Vishnu thereupon directed the chakra not to molest him any further. The Rishi, after being thus harassed and pursued, was so much vexed with the chakra that he cursed it, by saying that its brightness should vanish and that it should become as dark as the darkest thing in the universe. But when the chakra requested Vishnu to save it from this curse, it was ordained that its brightness should vanish only once.
“It was therefore on the occasion to which we now refer that it became dark ; and the moment it was directed by Krishna to hide the sun, everything became dark and night seemed to be fast approaching. The birds of the air began to make for their nests, and man and beast were returning to their resting place after the day’s labour. And poor Arjuna, what could he do? He had no other alternative but to have the pyre prepared. The sinner Duriyod- hana, seeing that the day had come to a close, and being convinced that Arjuna would act in accordance with his vow, hastened to the place where the pyre was prepared, with Sindhava, Drona, and the other generals of his army, to witness the much wished for sight. The pyre was lighted, and Arjuna prepared himself for the awful doom by going round it thrice. Just as he was about to leap into the burning flames, Krishna interrupted him and said : ’ O Arjuna ! it is not meet that you should, amidst the tears of your brothers and friends and your faithful men and amidst the joyful shouts of the enemy, madly put on end to your life, all for mere sentiment. How many in the world’s history have under similar circumstances changed their purpose ! Do not therefore madly put an end to your useful career.’ Arjuna replied : ’ I will not swerve one jot or tittle from what I have solemnly sworn to perform. I have not suc- ceeded in killing Sindhava, and I will therefore die myself.’ ’ But here is Sindhava before you and within easy reach of you,’ said Krishna. ’ Why not now kill him and thus save yourself from this terrible death ? ’ ’ No,’ said the noble Arjuna, ’ the sun has gone down into the western ocean and night has come on, and I will not soil my hand or tarnish the glory of this my faithful gandiba by killing him now.’ But what,’ said Krishna, ‘if the sun still shines in the western skies and the day has not yet come to a close ?’ ‘I will then kill Sindhava,’ said Arjuna. Our saviour Krishna now withdrew the chakra and lo ! the setting sun was shining in all his glory at the distance of four fathoms from the western horizon. The bow was strung, and in a twinkle the Pasupathasthra of Siva flew like lightning and severed Sindhava’s head from his body, amidst the shouts and exultations of all good and virtuous men. Glory be to Krishna, this saviour of mankind, who is ever ready to assist the good and to punish the wicked, this Dis- penser of Justice who protected the good and noble Arjuna from his awful doom. Let us all therefore unite in praising our Creator.”
So saying, the preacher knelt down before the picture. Camphor was lighted, and the whole audience rising en masse and exultingly shouting the words Krishna, Govinda, Gopala, &c., knelt down before the picture.
In this speech, strange medley as it is of oriental exaggeration and extraordinary incident, we find a wonderful parallel to the incident related in the Bible, wherein it is said that “the sun stood still and the moon stayed, until the people had avenged themselves upon their enemies.” Whether the scientific critics of the West have given the true explanation of this passage, I shall not attempt to discuss, but with regard to the wonderful incidents related in Nalla Pillai’s speech I need hardly state that the boasted “age of reason” has not yet arrived in Indian villages, the people of which implicitly believe in whatever is written in their sacred writings.¹
¹ With reference to the last paragraph of this chapter, the following letter appeared in the next issue of the Madras Christian College Magazine :— “SIR,—While I read with pleasure Part XI. of ‘Life in an Indian Village,’ it struck me regarding ’the wonderful parallel to the incident related in the Bible,’ that Mr. T. Ramakrishna has no need to go to ’the scientific critics of the West’ for ’the true explanation,’ if he had only re- membered what Dr. Miller taught him in 1871, when he like myself sat at the Doctor’s feet to study the Scriptures. The explanation then given was that the passage in the Bible is purely figurative and poetical, and, if I mistake not, it is a quotation from some Hebrew poet. A similar explanation from Nalla Pillai’s grandson would have not only not misled his hearers to imagine miracles where there were none, but probably enhanced the beauty of the passage. But, as my friend says, the ‘age of reason’ has not yet arrived in Indian villages; nor, I may add, in many better places besides.
" If, however,it is contended that the event in the Mahab- harata is a true miracle, that it is so believed by Nalla Pillai’s grandson, by Hindus generally, and by T. Ramakrishna to the bargain, then I fail to see any ’ wonderful parallel to the incident related in the Bible,’ which to a critical student is no miracle at all. A CLASSMATE. " Narsapur, 20-3-89. "
Notes
A naligai is equivalent to twenty-four minutes. ↩︎