The Unheard Perspective

The night had swallowed the sun once more. Another day of horrid bloodshed had ended. When Suryadev- the sun god- disappeared under the horizon, I was more than relieved to put down my bow and order my charioteer back to the camp. I stood by the wooden fence that marked the end of the Kaurav camp. The land continued to march forward defiantly into the no man’s land and eventually into the camp of my beloved grandnephews without anything that could bar its progress. It was limitless. High above me, the vast dark sky spread its colossal self, unbarricaded. Bright stars adorned the borderless sky. It seemed unfair something should be so bright when the future of the Kuru empire appeared to be as bleak as possible.

There are times when I feel envious of the land and sky. They have absolutely no limitations imposed upon them. But I do. Can’t blame anybody, though. All my vows are self-imposed. All of them bind me to the throne of Hastinapur. Devavrat was my former name. Son of the mighty king Shantanu and the Goddess Ganga, a disciple of the great Parshuram. I was strong, just, noble, and was destined to be king. But then circumstances forced me to take my most terrible vows. Those of life-long celibacy, never sitting on the throne of Hastinapur and being loyal to those who sit on my father’s throne for life. That was what made everybody change my name to Bheeshma- one of the terrible vows.  

They say that even the gods in heaven applauded my feat. I don’t know about the gods, but my father was jubilant because my vows allowed him to marry the woman of his choice. In his joy, he granted me the boon of icchamrutyu- the boon which allows me to choose the time of my death. If father had the gift of foresight, he probably wouldn’t have granted me the boon, because in my rather long life it has turned out to be more of a curse. There have been several times when I thought I could peacefully pass on, as the kingdom was in noble, just hands; but the universe must surely be conspiring against the successful execution of my plans.

  In my long life, I have seen and heard tales of heinous deeds fuelled by the lust and greed of man but have never witnessed anything as atrocious as what happened thirteen years ago. When I think thirteen years back, I can vividly see everything that happened- everything that happened in that gambling hall, everything that happened that lit the flicker of the great fire of the war. The curses Draupadi hurled at me still ring fresh in my ears. Her voice loud but hoarse from shouting yelled at me questioning my nobility. If I claimed to be the noblest and virtuous warrior of my time, why couldn’t I save her from her plight? But alas, I was forced to stand there quietly but ashamed as my vow bound me to the son of the man who sat on my father’s throne. She cursed me that one day I too will receive an end as painful as Duryodhan and his cronies and I think that time is near.

  I remember Krishna telling me that keeping your vow even when it threatens society, is a greater sin than breaking your vow if it means doing so will benefit society. But how can I, the great, benevolent Bheeshma go against my vows? Doing that is equivalent to betraying my name, and there is no greater sin than doing that.

  I looked at my calloused hands, roughened from the years of wielding the bow. Suddenly, the events of today’s battle came back to me. The war had raged continuously for nine days now, slowly eating away the glory of the Kuru empire, that I had put my blood, sweat and tears into building over the years. Both sides faced heavy losses but every day the Pandavs always won with a small majority. Duryodhan began getting furious with every passing day. Today he refused to step into battle until I promised with a heavy heart that I would kill Arjun or make Krishna break his promise of not lifting weapons during the war.

  The combat between Arjun and I began as soon as the conches were sounded. With mounting remorse, I sent arrow after arrow cutting my dear grand nephew’s armor and wounding him badly. Poor lad, I could see the confusion and hesitation on his face. How could he fight against his grand-uncle who had dandled him on the knee and taught him everything he needed to know? He fought valiantly countering arrows after arrows. Right when I couldn’t bear to see him bleeding so profusely, I notched a powerful arrow that was bound to kill him quickly. But then Krishna, who couldn’t see his friend’s plight anymore, sprang into action. He raised his divine weapon, the Sudarshan chakra, and came running towards me, ready to finish me off himself.

  I felt everything crumble around me. My knees buckled under me. The smell of imminent death wafted up to my nose. I broke into a cold sweat. I never feared death before but what overwhelmed me was the fact that the Lord of the Universe was rushing toward me to finish me off. “Oh, Keshav. Bless my soul by killing my unworthy outer dressing with your noble hands so that I can be one with you.” I said softly.

  But Arjun the ever-dutiful warrior stopped him. Reminding Krishna of his vow, he promised that he would finish me off himself. Satisfied, Krishna returned to his place and drove Arjun back to the camp for medical help. 

  “Pitamaha,” A voice I recognized as Yudhishthir’s pulled me back to the present. There stood all five of them, bareheaded and barefoot, bowing down with respect; as always paragons of nobility and virtuousness. Krishna stood behind all of them. I bowed to him. He calmly raised a palm in a blessing.

I turned to Arjun, bandaged and pale but with valor and determination adorning his face. I gently caressed his wounds with my calloused hands. He balled his fingers into fists and looked away, avoiding eye contact. Was it just my imagination or did I see tears pooling in his eyes? Suddenly I knew why they had come to meet me, why they all looked so hesitant.

I drew in a sharp breath and spoke “I know why you are here, my sons." They all looked at me with remorse in their eyes, none of them trusting themselves to speak. I met the eyes of Krishna and he gave me one of his enigmatic smiles- ever so hard to read. “I stand in the way of your victory. With me still alive and fighting, it is impossible for you to reach your goal. You must find a way to get rid of me, but you don’t know how. I’ll tell you how. You must know Shikhandi. He is destined to kill me. I will not fight against him due to an old vow Arjun, you must stand behind him and shoot your arrows. You must fulfill your promise to Krishna.” 

Shikhandi- the reincarnation of the princess Amba was destined to kill me. I remember how I had to abduct her and her sisters from their swayamvar for my half-brothers. I felt bad to do so but again, I was loyal to the man who sat on my father’s throne. Amba was already in love with a king, who refused to marry her because she had been ‘touched’ by somebody else. That was a little absurd though, all I did was touch her hand for merely five seconds. But anyhow, a distraught Amba came up to me and asked me to marry her. I refused, stating my vow of celibacy. Infuriated, she vowed that she would be back one day and be the cause of my death. Then jumping into a fully lit pyre, she ended her life. She was back now, and I sensed the time to redeem her pledge was near.

Bowing down to me one by one, the Pandavs left for their camp reluctantly. Only Arjun remained, with Krishna by his side. Arjun looked at me, a torrent of emotions in his glassy eyes. I looked at him with affection and pride. “The way you fought today was exceptional. Proud of you, my son.” I said appreciatively.

Driven by a sudden impulse, Arjun stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight hug, like he used to do when he was a little boy scared of a thunderstorm. My, what has he become since then. I thought as I returned the hug. “Don’t leave." He used to say when he was a little boy. Now all he said was “I’m sorry.” so softly that it was almost inaudible. I closed my eyes tightly, trying but failing miserably to mentally prepare myself for tomorrow. Arjun pulled apart and with one last sorrowful look, walked away.

Krishna sauntered up to me, peace and power radiating from his aura. My knees felt wobbly and I felt myself lowering down to the ground but Krishna caught me mid-way and raised me to my original height, shaking his head silently forbidding me to bow down to him. He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and said “You are a great warrior, Pitamaha; a noble and just statesman. Your sacrifice in establishing righteousness will be remembered as long as this earth lives. There has never been and never will a man of your caliber walk the Earth. I am thoroughly impressed and for that I will grant you a boon. You will be able to see your father’s kingdom passed down to noble and just hands before attaining salvation.”

I fell to my knees, tears of joy flowing down the sides of my cheeks like rivers. The gracious, compassionate Lord had just fulfilled my last wish. Now I had no desires. I could now attain salvation. “Oh Lord of gods!” I exclaimed through my boundless joy. “Thank you! I bow to you again and again from all sides. I can now be in peace and be one with you.” What I felt was next to inexplicable. It was as if a dam withholding emotions had just broken apart and the river crashed onto me with full force. Through my tears I could see a blurry Krishna standing tall in front of me, in his yellow robes and golden crown topped with peacock feathers. Looking at him, all the unruly emotions converged to be one eternal feeling of bliss.

Krishna tenderly lifted me up and wiped my tears, love radiating from him in immense measure. He smiled his enigmatic smile and this time I could return it. I was now no longer Bheeshma or Devavrat but one with the Supreme Lord.