Feb 27, 2011

The Passing of Krishna [Adapted from the Srimad Bhaagavatham and the Mahabharatha]

The sun hung low over the west, tinting the skies with a beautiful shade of pink as six men walked slowly, bent low, examining the many dark human-like-shapes strewn on the ground – the dead bodies of several lakh warriors lying in pools of blood. They stopped often, bending down further and getting up again, shaking their heads in dismay and disbelief. Here and there, they halted, saddened by the sight a familiar face – a cousin, a son, or a friend perhaps. Slowly, they searched the field for signs of life and sound. But Kurukshetra remained silent, save the screeches of the vultures which circled the skies far above. The place was dead. As dead as the warriors who lay on the field.

It was the end of the glorious Bharatha war, between the cousins of the Kuru dynasty – the Pandavas and the Kauravas. The eighteen day long war had finally come to a finish, but the victors were not pleased. They were rather devastated by the damage that a single war had done. Lead by their mentor, Krishna, the victorious Pandavas now scanned the fields, looking out for any survivors amongst the dead.

“Duryodhanaaaaaaaaaaa….” shrieked a voice from far-far away, “Dur… Duryodhanaaaa. My son, open your eyes. Speak… Speak to me, my first born… Speak to me… A hundred did we bear, all fine and proud. Was it for such a foolish end? Duryodhana…. speak out…SPEAK OUT…” Gandhari screamed. The blind-folded queen of Hastinapur was bent low over the body of her son, Duryodhana. He lay in a mess, his thigh having been smashed by the mace of the powerful Bhima. Gandhari had her hands around her eldest daughter-in-law, supporting her as she wildly bet her breasts in grief, while the blind king, Dhritharashtra, stood by her side, looking helpless. Tears evaded him, for he had already dried them out lamenting for his ninety-nine other sons

Gandhari Laments Duryodhana
The Pandavas, along with Krishna, hurried over to the place where Gandhari sat, her hair disheveled and her hands smeared with blood. Stopping in front of Dhritharashtra, the Pandavas bowed deeply, offering their respects to their paternal uncle. The king stood still, staring blankly at the setting sun, his eyes not capable of seeing them. Yudhisthira sighed deeply at his uncle’s loaded silence and turned towards Gandhari.  With heavy hearts and guilty faces, the cousins approached her. Sanjaya, the king’s escort, gently bent down to Gandhari, to inform the blind-folded woman of the arrival of the five and their protector. Gandhari stood up, all grief gone in a trice, replaced with fury - red, boiling fury. The Pandavas, except for Yudhishthira, quickly retreated in fear. Always respectful to his elders, Dharma went forth to Gandhari to touch her feet and seek her blessings. At that very moment, Gandhari, adjusted her eyes so that her gaze fell through the small gap at the bottom of the blindfold onto Yudhishthira’s toes.  In a second, Yudhishthira’s beautiful big toe on his left foot turned black and shriveled – the wrath of a Pathivratha on the killer of her hundred children. Arjuna instantly jumped behind Krishna, the great warrior cowering at the sight a blindfolded woman

Gandhari, however, totally ignored them and aided by Sanjaya, came up to Krishna. “Behold, Oh Madhava”, she lamented, “the daughters-in-law of mine. Deprived of their lords, they are uttering, with dishevelled hair, piteous cries of woe. Meeting with those dead bodies, they are calling back to their memories the great Bharata chiefs. They are running hither and thither in large bands towards their sons and brothers and sires and husbands. Behold, O mighty-armed one, the field is covered with mothers of heroes, all of whom, however, have been bereaved of children. There, those portions again are covered with spouses of heroes, who have, however, been bereaved of their spouses! Behold, the field of battle is adorned with those tigers among men, Bhishma and Karna and Abhimanyu and Drona and Drupada and Shalya, as if with blazing fires. Behold, it is adorned also with the golden coats of mail, and with the costly gems, of high-souled warriors, and with their angadas, and keyuras and garlands. Behold, it is strewn with darts and spiked clubs hurled by heroic hands, and swords and diverse kinds of keen shafts and bows. Beasts of prey, assembled together, are standing or sporting or lying down as they like! Behold, O puissant hero, the field of battle is even such. At this sight, O Janardana, I am burning with grief. In the destruction of the Panchalas and the Kurus, O slayer of Madhu, I think, the PanchaBhoothas have been destroyed.

“Aren’t you able to see my son Duhsasana lying in a pool of his own blood? There lies Karna, the son of the sun, nailed to his chariot. Behold the wise Bhishma, resting on his bed of arrows, waiting for the northerly movement of the sun. Yonder lies Drona, tricked into believing the death of his own son, and besides sleeps Abhimanyu, with a heart so brave that he alone managed to break the Chakravyuha. And see for yourself, the glorious warrior gods – Jayadratha, Shalya, Shakuni, Kambhoja and others lying on the field. Behold my son, my eldest, the crown prince of Hastinapura lying sprawled on the ground, the vultures ready to tear him at the very chance. The Pandavas, O Krishna, with you, are surely unslayable, since they and thou have escaped from Drona, from Bhishma, from Karna, from Kripa, from Duryodhana, from the son of Drona, from the mighty car-warrior Jayadratha and from the brave Kritavarma. Behold the reverses brought about by time! Those bulls among men that were capable of slaying the very celestials by force of their weapons have themselves been slain and my sons have been consumed by the fires of time.”

Having said these words Gandhari wailed loudly and fell to down, deprived of her senses. Filled with overwhelming sorrow from the deaths of her hundred sons, and blinded by her motherly love, she ascribed every single fault to Krishna. With her very thin frame shivering with wrath, her frail hands shaking, and tears streaking down from her blind-folded eyes, she cursed Krishna :

गान्धारी उवाच
पाण्डवा धार्तराष्ट्राश दरुग्धाः कृष्ण परस्परम
उपेक्षिता विनश्यन्तस तवया कस्माज जनार्दन ||
शक्तेन बहु भृत्येन विपुले तिष्ठता बले
उभयत्र समर्थेन शरुतवाक्येन चैव ह ||
इच्छतॊपेक्षितॊ नाशः कुरूणां मधुसूदन
यस्मात तवया महाबाहॊ फलं तस्माद अवाप्नुहि ||
 
पतिशुश्रूषया यन मे तपः किं चिद उपार्जितम
तेन तवां दुरवापात्मञ शप्स्ये चक्रगदाधर ||
यस्मात परस्परं घनन्तॊ जञातयः कुरुपाण्डवाः
उपेक्षितास ते गॊविन्द तस्माज जञातीन वधिष्यसि ||
तवम अप्य उपस्थिते वर्षे षट्त्रिंशे मधुसूदन
हतज्ञातिर हतामात्यॊ हतपुत्रॊ वनेचरः
कुत्सितेनाभ्युपायेन निधनं समवाप्स्यसि ||
तवाप्य एवं हतसुता निहतज्ञातिबान्धवाः
स्त्रियः परिपतिष्यन्ति यथैता भरत स्त्रियः || - स्त्री पर्व, महाभारत 
Gandhari Said :
“The Pandavas and the Dhartarashtras, O Krishna, have both been burnt. While they were thus being exterminated, O Janardana, why were you indifferent to them?
You are totally competent to prevent the slaughter, for you have a large number of followers and a vast force. You have eloquence, and you have the power.
Since deliberately, Oh slayer of Madhu, you were indifferent to this universal carnage, therefore, Oh mighty-armed one, you alone should reap the fruit of this act.
By the little merit I have acquired through waiting dutifully on my husband, by that merit so difficult to attain, I shall curse you, O wielder of the discus and the mace!
Since you were indifferent to the Kurus and the Pandavas while they slew each other, therefore, O Govinda, you shall be the slayer of thy own kinsmen!
In the thirty-sixth year from this, Oh slayer of Madhu, you shall, after causing the slaughter of your kinsmen and friends and sons, perish by disgusting means in the wilderness.
The ladies of your race, deprived of sons, kinsmen, and friends, shall weep and cry even as these ladies of the Bharata race!” – Stree Parva, Mahabharatha

At the end of this long curse, filled with both hatred and love, with devotion as well as disbelief, Gandhari was close to tears again. Her anger all gone, she fell down on her knees to the Lord’s feet. Krishna, lifted her up, his smile still stuck onto his face like a permanent magnet and said “Maathey, there is none in the world, save myself, who is capable of exterminating the Vrishnis. I know this well. I am endeavouring to bring it about. In uttering this curse, Oh mother of excellent vows, you have aided me in the accomplishment of that task. The Vrishnis are incapable of being slain by others, be they human beings or gods or danavas. The Yadavas, therefore shall fall by one another’s hand. This curse of yours will take effect, not only because of your true devotion towards me and your husband, but also due to the ever changing sands of time. In the meanwhile, let us attend to the tending of the dead and send them away on their journey to the heavens. For now, you need some rest Oh Mother!” Uttering these shocking and unexpected words in reply to Gandhari’s curse, Krishna walked past the startled and shocked Pandavas to their encampment, supporting a limp Gandhari on his hand.

Days flew by after the coronation of Yudhishtra as the king of Hasthinapur. Krishna went back to Dwaraka, to rule over the beautiful island kingdom. Blessed by the presence of the Goddess of Wealth as Rukmini, the people enjoyed every luxury that life could afford. Slowly the curse of Gandhari started taking form and Krishna himself happily plotted to bring about the end of the powerful Vrishnis.

The Yadavas were in eternal bliss at Dwaraka. So much was the bliss that they forgot the lessons of good conduct, high morals and the importance of discipline and humility. So once when some of the SapthaRishis came down to Dwaraka, they went beyond the restraints of respect for the maha purushas.

Vishwamitra, Asita, Kanva, Durvasa, Bhrigu, Angira, Kashyapa, Vamadeva, Atri and Vasishta, along with Narada had once come to perform various prayers at the palace of Vasudeva. Having completed the rituals, the sages then took leave of Krishna and proceeded to a place called Pindaraka. It was there that the seed of Gandhari’s curse burst into sprouts. 

“Let’s test the powers of these so called Thava sreshtas (best of the people in tapas)”, suggested Sambha, the son of Krishna and Jambhavathi, to his friends. Enthusiastically aided by his comrades, Sambha dressed himself as a woman, placed a mace underneath his dress, and led by two other men, approached the rishis, the very picture of an expecting mother. “Oh learned men”, one of the Yadavas voiced.”My beautiful wife here is now bearing a life within her. Can you, by the divine powers vested in you, predict the gender of the child to be born?”

The rishis were furious. They saw through the whole hoax immediately. Fuming with anger, Kanva grabbed his kamandala and in the heat of fury sprinkled some water on the three Yadavas.

एवं प्रलब्धा मुनयस्तानूचु: कुपिता नृप 
जनयिष्यति वो मंदा मुषलं कुलनाशनं ||- श्रीमद्भागवतं
Thus ridiculed by deceit, the sages became angry, O King, and told the boys,
"Fools! She will bear you an iron club that will destroy your entire dynasty." – Srimad Bhaagavatham

The Curse of the Rishis
The Yadavas, though shocked at the behavior of the sages, were too arrogant to even apologise for their lack of respect and humility. They left the scene, laughing off the curse as the speech of one who had lost all his sanity.

The tidings were however very different the next morning. Sambha suddenly developed intense labour pains and soon delivered a mace from within him. Severely frightened by the sudden turn of events (which is a miracle even by modern day terms) the Yadavas broke into a sweat. So the sages were indeed powerful, they realised. Knowing not what to do, they immediately rushed with the mace to Akroora and Ugrasena, and in the presence of Krishna himself, they narrated the weird tide of events to the King. Having heard the astounding story, Akroora ordered at once, “Grind the mace to a fine powder and cast it into the seas. I am really ashamed of your behavior. Go away!” The Yadavas nodded in shame and retreated in a hurry.

Deeply disturbed by the inauspicious news, Akroora cast his gaze at Krishna, his eyes full of questions. Krishna simply smiled back. “The wheels of time are turning uncle”, he said, “and Sambha has played his part perfectly to the tee.” Without another word, Krishna swept out of the room, leaving both of them bewildered. “What did he mean by that Akroora?” asked the bewildered old king, Ugrasena.

“I can tell you that, father.” said a small voice from the corner. Ugrasena turned around to the source of the voice. Rukmini stood by the doorway, her head bowed low before the elders. Bedecked with jewels, the goddess shined bright in the lamps. “Thirty six year ago, Krishna prayed to Shiva for a son like him. Does that ring any bell?” she asked. Akroora was totally stumped. Ugrasena, however, said very slowly, his eyes shining bright, “A son like Shiva? A son like the God of destruction? Krishna wanted Sambha to aid in destruction…” And even more slowly, his voice dying down several levels, he gasped, “Gandhari’s curse. The time for her curse to act has arrived. Krishna himself has made sure that her curse would be true. A reward for her unflinching devotion in him.” he ended, leaving Akroora agape and Rukmini nodding in agreement.

On the other hand, outside the palace, the Yadavas had obeyed Akroora’s command to the dot. They had ground the mace finely. Everything that now remained was some dark grey powder and a sharp triangular piece which appeared to be very hard indeed. They marched down to the sea and religiously threw away the powder and the lone piece of the mace into the frothy waves. Happy that they had taken care of the matter so easily, they returned back to their homes, in their general state of intoxication and bliss.

Time rolled by. The lone triangular piece of the mace was swallowed by a fish. The fish was caught by a hunter, Jara, who upon finding the piece in the fish’s entrails immediately used it to craft a fine poisonous arrow. The fine powder, on the other hand, washed back ashore and deposited itself by the beautiful coast of Prabhaasa. From the deposited sediments sprouted tall bamboo-like canes, covering the entire coast of the region. Everything was set for the final showdown.

Time flew at Dwaraka too. Evil omens showed up time and again, foreboding the destruction of the Vrishnis. The streets swarmed with rats and mice. Earthen pots showed cracks or broke from no apparent cause. At night, the rats and mice ate away the hair and nails of slumbering men. Sarikas chirped, sitting within the houses of the Vrishnis. The noise made by those birds ceased not for even a short while by day or by night. The Sarashas were heard to imitate the hooting of the owl, and goats imitated the cries of jackals. Many birds appeared, impelled by Death, that were pale of complexion but that had legs red of hue. Pigeons were seen to always disport in the houses of the Vrishnis. Asses were born of horses, and elephants of mules. Cats were born of bitches, and mice of the mongoose. The Vrishnis, committing sinful acts, were not seen to feel any shame. They showed disregard for Brahmanas, the Pitris and the deities. They insulted and humiliated their preceptors and seniors. Only Balaama and Janardana acted differently. Wives deceived their husbands, and husbands deceived their wives. Fires, when ignited, cast their flames towards the left. Sometimes they threw out flames whose splendour was blue and red. The Sun, whether when rising or setting over the city, seemed to be surrounded by headless trunks of human form. In cook rooms, upon food that was clean and well-boiled, were seen, when it was served out for eating, innumerable worms of diverse kinds. When Brahmanas, receiving gifts, blessed the day or the hour or when high-souled men were engaged in silent recitations, the heavy tread was heard of innumerable men running about, but no one could be seen to whom the sound of such tread could be ascribed. The constellations were repeatedly seen to be struck by the planets. None amongst the Yadavas could, however, obtain a sight of the constellation of his birth. The people panicked at the cascade of evil portents and ran to Krishna.

At the Sudharma Hall in the palace of Dwaraka, Krishna calmed down the panicking and churning masses with his charming voice. “Oh Prajas,” he addressed the crowd, “it is possible that the evil omens, which have occurred in Dwaraka over the past several days, are portending a great catastrophe in this region. It is hence my advice that we all retire from this city of ours. The women, children and old men should leave this city and go to Shankhoddhaara. We men shall go to Prabhaasa-kshetra, where the river Sarasvati flows toward the west and immerse ourselves in worship of the divine and other charitable activities.” Relieved by the assurance of their leader, the Yadus left Dwaraka, rowing across the ocean in vast boats, to reach land.

One day at Prabhaasa, the Yadava men went on a picnic to the beach. They were already in their usual high state and the Maireya liquor that they drank on the beautiful beach intoxicated them all the more. In this total state of intoxication, they started teasing one another, bringing up the gory pasts and the gruesome mistakes of their very friends and relatives. Satyaki and Krithavarma eventually acted as the starting points for the doom of the Yadus. Satyaki had fought on the Pandava side in the battle of Kurukshetra and Krithavarma, on the Kaurava side. They taunted one another, bringing back memories of the disastrous Bharatha war. Satyaki, suddenly wished to end it all, and drawing out his sword, he jumped on Krithaverma and cut his head off. The friends of Krithavarma, furious with Satyaki, immediately pounced on him and a great brawl ensued. Pradyumna, the son of Krishna, innocent though he was, found himself to be in the thick of the fight and was killed.

Self-Destruction of the Yadavas
With the death of his own son, Krishna knew that the time had come, and very discretely he plucked the canes that grew in abundance by the sea and placed them by the fighting Yadavas. The Yadavas, in their total state of ignorance, threw the canes at one another. The curse of Kanva Maharishi finally came into action and each cane became a mace, smashing into the Yadavas, killing them instantly. It was a matter of moments before the Yadavas lay dead, killed by their own clan members and before the eyes of their very King.

Having seen this total destruction unfold before his very eyes, Krishna then decided that it was time for him to wind up his pastimes on earth and return back to Vaikuntha. With Balarama, he went back to Dwaraka, where the women folk awaited his further instructions. He asked them to immediately leave to Shankhoddhaara, from where they would be guided by Arjuna himself. The women of Dwaraka left reluctantly, their hearts aching for the continuous presence of Krishna by their side.

Finally, at long last, with the city of Dwaraka having been evacuated, Krishna too stepped out of his once-beautiful city and proceeded to the forests with Balarama. The moment Krishna left Dwaraka, a huge wave splurged up from the oceans and swallowed the beautiful city into its deep depths, where it continues to lie till this very day.

Krishna and Balarama soon reached the shore-side forests of Prabhaasa. There, vexed with the battles of life, Balarama sat down to meditate upon Hari. As he closed his eyes, a thousand headed serpent slid out of his Muladhara Chakra. With red eyes and a gigantic, luminous body, the serpent was Adisesha himself. Slowly, the huge snake merged into the ocean, predeceasing its Lord so that it may welcome him back at Vaikuntha. Seeing that his dear brother had shed his mortal coils, Krishna became overwhelmed with grief and sat down besides Balarama, by some bushes under a banyan tree.

“The Lord was exhibiting His brilliantly effulgent four-armed form, the radiance of which, just like a smokeless fire, dissipated the darkness in all directions.
His complexion was the color of a dark blue cloud and His effulgence the color of molten gold, and His all-auspicious form bore the mark of Śrīvatsa.
A beautiful smile graced His lotus face, locks of dark blue hair adorned His head, His lotus eyes were very attractive, and His shark-shaped earrings glittered.
He wore a pair of silken garments, an ornamental belt, the sacred thread, bracelets and arm ornaments, along with a helmet, the Kaustubha jewel, necklaces, anklets and other royal emblems.
Encircling His body were flower garlands and His personal weapons in their embodied forms. As He sat He held His left foot, with its lotus-red sole, upon His right thigh.” 
– Srimad Bhaagavatham

By the amazing wills of fate, the very same hunter, Jara, saw the foot of Krishna sticking out from the bushes and assuming it to be a deer, shot it down with an arrow - the very arrow made from the lone surviving triangular piece from the mace that was delivered by Sambha. However, when Jara came to capture his prize, he panicked on seeing Krishna, with his four arms and the mystic light suffusing from him. At once, he fell at the Lord’s feet and burst into tears at his apparent mistake. Krishna however comforted him, "Jara, do understand that everything that happens is my will. Fear not, for this too has occurred only through my grace. Now with my permission, you will enter the world of the pious." Krishna thus granted Jara with instant liberation, sending him to Vaikuntha in his physical body.

Jara apologises to Sriman Naarayana and his weapons
in their embodied forms
At that very moment Daruka, Krishna’s charioteer, rushed onto the spot, to find the Lord in a meditative state, preparing to leave this mortal world. He had  followed the divine fragrance emanating from Krishna to arrive at his final resting spot. Tears sprung from Daruka’s eyes at once, as Krishna calmly advised him to continue his service to the Lord in the depths of his mind. Finally, after blessing Daruka with his lotus feet, Krishna rose upwards, his Panchaayudhas following him in their embodied forms. Along with Krishna, truth, religion, faithfulness, glory and beauty also departed from the earth to adorn him in his Nija Dhaama (Personal Abode). With Brahma and Shiva watching in reverence and the other demigods showering flowers from their hovering chariots, Krishna entered Vaikuntha with his transcendental body, his mission on earth accomplished.

The Ascension
Thus died Shri Krishna, the Poorna Avatar of MahaVishnu - succumbing to the arrow of a mere hunter, to honor the curse of a steadfast devotee who had always prayed to him with a very pure heart. Gandhari’s curse had acted and achieved its purpose; just like the Lord himself had promised her.

P.S.

1. It is believed that the hunter who was responsible for the death of Krishna was none other than the great Vaali in his previous birth. Shri Narayana, in his previous avatar as the beloved of the Raghuvamsa, had killed Vaali from a hidden spot atop a tree. Vaali had committed no act against Shri Raama and hence Raama had no reason, whatsoever, to kill him. The karma thus earned had eventually acted in the right direction for both the souls involved, even though it had taken an entire Yuga to do so. This story beautifully brings out the very important fact that, even for the Ruler of the Universe, the laws of Karma remain the same.

2. The exact day on which Krishna left this earth for his heavenly abode has been calculated with much accuracy based on the planetary positions mentioned in the Mahabharatha. Krishna is said to have left this earth on Magha Shukla Pratipada which translates to February 18th 3102 BC. By our calendars, this was also the first day of the Kali Yuga or the age of deterioration.

Jara and Krishna @ Bhalka Thirth
3. The place where Krishna was hit by Jara’s arrow is today a famous centre of pilgrimage called Bhalka Thirth (in Hindi, ‘Ban’ means Arrow and hence Ban ka Thirth eventually became Bhalka Thirth). It is located near the famous Somnath temple in Prabhaasa Kshetra, Gujarat. When visiting this kshetra, one can get to see the ancient banyan tree under which Krishna was hit by Jara's lethal arrow. The temple has a beautiful, life-like statue of Krishna, reclining under the tree, in exactly the same pose as he had sat 5000 years ago.

Adisesha @ Dhaunji-ki-Gufa
4. Dehotsarg is yet another place near Somnath from where, it is believed, that Krishna rose to Vaikuntha. The footprints of Krishna are worshipped at Dehotsarg in memory of Krishna’s ascension to heaven. Interestingly, there is also a cave called Dhaunji-ki-Gufa, where Balarama is believed to have breathed his last. Here, a bas-relief image of a very long-coiled snake (Adisesha) is worshiped as Balarama.

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