Heir to Hastinapur

After hearing Princess Amba's words, Bhishma at once called the Brahmin scholars of the kingdom and began a discussion with them. He never forced anyone against her will. So, following the advice of the scholars and acting under the order of Queen Mother Satyavati, Bhishma respectfully sent Amba, the eldest daughter of the king of Kashi, to King Shalya. Ambika and Ambalika he gave in marriage to Vichitra Virya.

Yet later, even though Bhishma repented for his mistake, for the good of Hastinapur he did not hesitate to break the bond of an unknown princess. He had carried away the princesses by force from the swayamvara hall, and that too not for himself, but for a king whom they had never even seen. In that time of free choice in marriage, the girls were meant to choose their own husbands. Without even knowing whether the girls would like that king or not, Bhishma had done this rash act.

Meanwhile, King Shalya refused to accept Princess Amba. Bhishma had touched her and placed her upon his chariot. To soothe his own insult and the pain of his defeat, King Shalya accused Amba of being pleased after being touched by another man.

Deeply wounded in her heart, Amba returned to Hastinapur and came once more before Bhishma. Bhishma was shocked to see her suddenly standing there.

"Is it you, Princess Amba?" he asked. "You have returned?"

"My life is ruined, great Bhishma," Amba said. "Because you touched me, King Shalya would not accept me. And except for King Shalya, I cannot even imagine anyone else as my husband. Now what shall I do? Please tell me."

"What is this?" Bhishma said. "I did not treat you badly in any way, Princess. Your honor was not harmed in Hastinapur."

Amba looked at him with burning pain in her eyes. "If I beg for myself once, will that increase your glory in any way? And with what face should I ask like a beggar? I too am a princess."

"All right, all right," Bhishma said. "For now, you should return to the kingdom of Kashi. I will arrange that. After that, I will help you find a suitable husband."

Amba answered at once, "Once a princess leaves her father's house for marriage, how can she return to her father's home again? You are such a great man of dharma, and yet you say this?"

Bhishma paused, then said, "Very well, then Hastinapur welcomes you. You may stay here with honor for as long as you wish. No one will mock you."

Amba's voice became sharper. "In this Hastinapur? It is for this kingdom that my whole life has been ruined. In what place, with what identity, shall I stay here, tell me, great Bhishma? If I am to stay in Hastinapur, then I must have some relation with this land, some bond. Tell me with whom I should make that bond, great Bhishma. Only, only you can save me from this danger. I ask shelter from you. Please marry me."

Bhishma stepped back as if struck. "No, Princess Amba, that is impossible. I am a lifelong celibate. How can I marry? I can never break my vow."

"But I have no other way."

"I too am helpless, Princess," Bhishma said heavily. "Except for this one request, I can do anything else to help you."

Amba straightened herself. Her sorrow turned into anger. "Very well. Keep your pride with you. But one day it will be crushed. I am Princess Amba, and today I leave you with these words. Be ready for that day, great Bhishma."

In knowledge, reason, religion, strength, and royal wisdom, there was no one on earth greater than Bhishma. Yet before that great man, a young princess had shown such boldness.

Time is very cruel. No one knows where it may carry a person's fate.

A wise man like Bhishma surely knows this, and I know it too. But both of us are bound by destiny. Bhishma must perform his duty, and I too cannot step away from my role as witness.

I am the sage Vyasa.

I can do nothing except watch this whole story like a painted picture. And yet, no—not entirely. In this game of time's dice, I too will have to come and place my move. That time is not very far away.

The royal palace of Hastinapur would once again stand before a deep crisis, and then I would be needed. And at that time, if the one who must call me did call, then whether I was in heaven or in the underworld, I would have to come running.

But that call would take a little time to come.

Before that, let me tell of the crisis of Hastinapur.

King Vichitra Virya had received two very beautiful queens, and he was carried away by the joy of youth. So seven long years passed somehow.

Then one day the king's health broke down. He was struck by a difficult disease. Friends and well-wishers could not cure him. At last, one day he died without children. Though he had two queens, the king had no child.

From the day Devavrata gave up his right to the kingdom, trouble had begun to gather over the fate of Hastinapur. Now once again a grave problem appeared.

Who would be the heir to the throne?

The throne was there, but there was no king. Both children of Shantanu and Satyavati had not survived. What would happen now?

Queen Mother Satyavati was truly lost and helpless. One day she called Bhishma to discuss the matter.

"My respects, Queen Mother," Bhishma said. "You had sent for me?"

"Yes, Devavrata," Satyavati replied. "I cannot understand how a kingdom can go on without a king. There are two queens, yet there is no heir to the throne. In this condition Hastinapur is in great danger. So I have called you to discuss this."

"Please command me, Queen Mother."

"Now you must protect the line of King Shantanu. Either bring children into the wombs of the two royal widows, or you yourself become king, live as a householder, and produce an heir. Otherwise, otherwise the line will end. And this is my order."

Bhishma bowed his head, but his voice remained firm. "Please forgive me, Queen Mother. I cannot obey either of these two orders. I, Devavrata, can give up everything in this world, but I cannot break my promise. Yes, however, however I can tell you one way to come out of this crisis."

"Really?" Satyavati asked quickly. "Is there truly some way?"

"Yes, Queen Mother, there is a way."

"Then tell me. Is there a way in the scriptures to save the line of King Shantanu?"

Bhishma answered, "For the Kshatriya people, this act is not a fault. The Vedas say that if a Kshatriya man dies without children, then a good Brahmin may give a child to his wife. That child will be counted as the child of the dead man. This is called a son. When Parashurama killed all the Kshatriyas of the earth, then Vedic Brahmins gave children to their wives. King Bali too brought the sage Dirghatama and had children through his wife Sudeshna. So do not worry, Queen Mother. Appoint some learned, religious, ascetic Brahmin at once. He will not be able to refuse the order of the royal family. He will bring children to the wombs of your daughters-in-law."

"The Brahmins will never disobey the Vedic rule," Satyavati said. "If the Vedas have given this command, then there is no more worry. Now perhaps this problem can be solved very quickly. Do you know such a good Brahmin?"

Bhishma replied, "Queen Mother, the one I know is greater even than a Brahmin, and greater even among sages. He is truly a knower of Brahman. There is no ascetic in this world like him."

"Who is he?"

"In this world, he alone divided the one undivided Veda into four parts and gave birth to the four Vedas. Because he divided the Veda, he is called Vedavyasa. Because his complexion is dark, some also call him Krishna. He was born on an island, so from birth he was named Dvaipayana. Krishna Dvaipayana Vyasa, or Vedavyasa, is how he is known. And among common people he is called Vyasadeva."

Satyavati looked at Bhishma.

Bhishma asked, "You know the great yogi, the great sage Vyasadeva, Queen Mother? Will he listen to you?"

"Yes," Satyavati said quietly. "He will surely listen. If I call him, he will come to Hastinapur at once."

Bhishma hesitated. "Forgive me, Queen Mother, but a doubt has arisen in my mind."

"What kind of doubt?"

"What is the certainty that the great sage Vedavyasa will save Hastinapur from this crisis? And besides, how can he even be called?"

"He promised that if I call him in my heart, he will come. And he too is connected with Hastinapur."

"How can that be possible, Queen Mother?"

Satyavati looked straight at him and said, "Because I am his mother. The great sage Vedavyasa is in truth my own son."

Bhishma stared in amazement. "What are you saying, Queen Mother?"

"Yes, Devavrata. Just like Chitrangada and Vichitra Virya, the great sage too was born from my womb. I am his mother."

"I understand nothing, Queen Mother."

"It is not something you were meant to understand, Devavrata," Satyavati said. "No one knows this. I kept this hidden for so long. If such a difficult situation had not come today, perhaps I would never have told anyone. But now I must tell you everything clearly."

"This story is from long ago," Satyavati began. "I was then only a young girl. By my father's order, I used to ferry people across the river. One day I was sitting in the boat, waiting for passengers. Just then the sage Parashara came and got into my boat. As he ordered, I began to row the boat.

"When we had reached the middle of the river, he spoke of a strange desire. The sage said to me, 'Do not be afraid, blessed one. No one in the three worlds will know of this event. You will conceive here, and the child will be born here. Taking that child, I will go away to do penance. Unless you yourself tell it, no one will ever know of that child. And even after giving birth, by my blessing you will remain a maiden.'

"Then the sage Parashara caused a wonderful event. By his power, such a mist arose all around our boat that it completely covered us. And there, through him, I conceived. And that child was born at once. The child's name was Dvaipayana. After being born there, from an infant he became a youth at once. Bowing to me, he said, 'Mother, please give me permission. I will now go to do penance. But if you ever need me, then just remember me, and I will come to you at once.'

"Sage Parashara left, taking the son with him. Before going, a wonderful lotus fragrance appeared in my body. That scent from my body could be smelled from far away. From then on I was called Yojanagandha. And that son of mine became the great sage Vyasadeva.

"Till now I never called him for any need. But in such a deep crisis, I see no other way except to call him. Tell me, if you and I together request him, will he not save us from this danger?"

Bhishma bowed respectfully. "Surely, Queen Mother. Call him at once. Who could be more worthy than the great sage Vyasa? I have no doubt that his descendants will be the finest rulers of Hastinapur."

I am Vedavyasa. I possess all knowledge of the three worlds. There is nothing unknown to me. No worthy person is unknown to me. I have always been detached. No one can bind me.

But in this one matter I am bound.

She is my mother. Her order is greater to me even than penance.

I know what time has written for me. I cannot control time. Duty and destiny—both are very hard. So for the first time, at my mother's call, I had to come to Hastinapur.

When I arrived, I bowed low before her.

"Please accept the full prostration of Krishna Dvaipayana Vyasa, Mother. You have called me?"

"Live long, my son. Be forever happy," Satyavati said. "Since your birth, I could not call you even once. Forgive your sorrowful mother, my son."

"What are you saying, Mother?" I replied. "Even to hear such words is a sin. I beg for your affection. Bless me and command me, Mother. What can I do for you?"

"Hastinapur is now in terrible danger," she said. "The royal throne stands empty. This kingdom has no king. Bhishma has vowed not to sit on the throne, and my two sons Chitrangada and Vichitra Virya are both now gone from this world. The two wives of Vichitra Virya are childless. There is no heir to the throne. Save Hastinapur from this terrible state, my son. Bring children to the wombs of Queen Ambika and Ambalika. This is what I ask of you."

"Your wish is my command, Mother," I said. "Only for the sake of dharma I accept this command upon my head. But I need a little time. I am now in terrible penance. Seeing my fierce form, the queens will be frightened. Give me some time to prepare myself, Mother. And besides, before coming to me, the two queens of Hastinapur must observe a vow of self-control and purity. Let them keep that vow for at least one year and become pure first. Otherwise they will not be able to bear my power."

At that moment Bhishma stepped forward and bowed.

"Please accept the full prostration of Devavrata, son of Shantanu, great sage Vyasadeva. Forgive my boldness, but if there is no heir to the throne for a long time, disorder will rise in the kingdom."

I looked at him and said, "In the kingdom where you yourself are present, O Ganga's son Bhishma, how can disorder arise?"

Bhishma answered, "O great sage, only when a king sits on the throne can I protect royal duty and serve him. But how can I serve an empty throne? I am bound to protect the kingdom of Hastinapur and its king, but now Hastinapur has no king. In such a state, disorder will come to the kingdom, great sage."

Then Satyavati spoke again. "My son Dvaipayana, you know, child, that in a lawless kingdom rain never falls. Even the gods turn away from such a kingdom. And if rain does not fall, everything will be destroyed. One year is too long. We cannot wait so many days. Arrange it so that the queens may conceive at once. When the queens have sons, Bhishma himself will raise them."

"Very well," I said. "Since this is your order, Mother, I will do that. But will your queens be able to bear my ugly form and harsh smell?"

"They will, they will," she said. "I myself will warn them."

What a strange joke of fate. The fear I had spoken of to Queen Mother Satyavati came true.

The Queen Mother explained much to them before sending them. But when Queen Ambika saw the fierce form of a great ascetic yogi, she was filled with fear. She was the daughter of a king, the wife of a king. She had never seen such a terrible-looking man. He had a huge body, two eyes burning like the sun, matted hair piled upon his head like a mountain, and a beard falling far down his chest. On top of that, his skin was dark black. In the dim light of a weak lamp, seeing such a fearful face, she shut her eyes in terror.

Meanwhile Queen Mother Satyavati sat waiting with great hope. Hearing footsteps, she raised her face eagerly and asked, "Will a noble prince be born in Ambika's womb?"

I replied, "Mother, the prince coming from this daughter-in-law of yours will be so strong that no one will be able to match him in physical power. He will have the strength of a hundred elephants, he will be wise, he will be intelligent, and he will be the father of a hundred sons. But he has one fault."

"What? What fault will he have?"

"Your daughter-in-law shut her eyes in fear when she saw me. So because of the mother's fault, this son will be blind."

Satyavati was distressed. "But, but how can a blind son become the king of the Kuru line? No, no, that cannot happen. You, you must give another child, my son. This time I am sending Ambalika. In beauty and qualities she has no equal. Let her son be fit in every way to become king."

"I am only obeying your order," I answered. "The rest is not in my hands, Mother."

Then Ambalika was sent.

Afterward Satyavati asked again, "Will a worthy prince be born in this queen's womb?"

I said, "Queen Ambalika's son will be famous. His good name will spread in all directions. He will be the father of five sons. But this queen of yours turned pale with fear when she saw me. So this son will receive his mother's color. He too will be pale like that."

"What are you saying?" Satyavati cried.

At the proper time, the two queens gave birth to sons. Joy and celebration flooded all over Hastinapur. The silent royal city seemed to wake again. Queen Mother Satyavati could hardly contain her happiness.

She invited the royal priest.

"Now the princes must be named."

"My respects, Queen Mother," the priest said. "You had called me?"

"My respects, royal priest. You must name the two princes of Hastinapur. Here, these two boys—please judge their fate and give them names."

The priest looked at the children carefully.

"Surely the elder prince will grow to be very powerful in every way. It is his fate that the prince is without sight, but in greatness he will be less than no one, Queen Mother. So let his name be Dhritarashtra. And this younger prince will become king, gain much honor in life, and possess many qualities. But the color of his body will remain like a thorn in his fate. Because of his pale color, let the prince's name be Pandu."

The royal priest was right. Pandu would indeed become king, but even in his body there remained a mark.

Would the royal line of Hastinapur never again receive a perfect king like King Shantanu?

Satyavati could not accept it.

No, she thought, one more attempt must be made. If the elder queen Ambika was sent once more to Dvaipayana, perhaps this time a perfect child might truly be born.

So she called me again.

"My respects, Mother," I said. "Two heirs have now come for your kingdom. Then why have you called me again?"

"Yes, my son, heirs have indeed come," Satyavati said. "But one is pale in color, and the other was born blind. He can never become king. And the one who will become king is not perfect either. And because of his strange body color, he may become an object of ridicule. In the line where there was such a great king as Shantanu, I simply cannot accept that no perfect prince will be born, my son. And besides, only two heirs are not enough. King Shantanu and I too had only two sons, but today not even one of them remains. So, so a third prince is very necessary. That is why one more time, one more time I will send Ambika to you. Give one more handsome and perfect prince for Hastinapur, my son."

"Very well," I said. "As you command, Mother. I will obey this order too."

But even if Queen Mother Satyavati wished it, fate would not always obey her.

Ambika still remembered that terrible and frightening-looking man. Perhaps whenever she shut her eyes, she saw him like a nightmare. And now the Queen Mother herself had ordered her to go to him once again. Ambika had no power to disobey that order, so she cleverly found a way. In her place she sent a maid, as beautiful as a heavenly nymph, into that chamber.

The maid bowed and said, "Ambika's respects, great sage. Please allow me to serve you."

I looked at her and asked, "Who are you, lady?"

"I am Queen Ambika's maid. She has sent me to serve you."

"Very well, very well," I said. "Are you not afraid on seeing me today?"

The maid folded her hands. "No, great sage. My life as a maid has become blessed today. How fortunate one must be to receive your sight. And I am only a simple maid. I am blessed just to have the chance to serve you."

Her humility pleased me.

"You will no longer remain a maid, blessed one," I said. "By my blessing, the child in your womb will be deeply righteous and wise. He will become one of the wisest men in the world."

"Your, your grace, great sage," she said softly.

That son born from the maid's womb was Vidura.

Truly, a man as wise and intelligent as him is very rare in the whole world. Lord Dharma himself came to earth in the form of Vidura. But there was fate again. How could the son of a maid sit upon the throne of Hastinapur? So the worthiest heir remained far from the throne all his life. Just as Ganga's son Bhishma too never sat upon the throne.

If fate had not tied the hands of Bhishma and Vidura, then the story of Bharat might have been very different.

But could a great man like Bhishma fail to understand the signs of coming time? Surely not. And yet no one ever came to know the conflict in Bhishma's mind.

One day he came and stood upon the bank of the Ganga. There was no one else anywhere. The sun was setting after its day's journey. The birds too were returning to their nests. Only Bhishma stood alone, looking at the water.

At that time Ganga herself rose from the depth of the river.

Bhishma bowed low. "Please accept the full prostration of Devavrata, Mother."

"Live long, child. Be devoted to dharma," said Ganga. "After so long you have come to your mother, but what is this shadow on your calm face, Devavrata?"

Bhishma answered, "I do not know exactly, Mother. Perhaps the future, yes, some unknown worry now and then makes me restless. Will no danger come to Hastinapur?"

Ganga's voice became deep and steady. "Is this Devavrata speaking, or Bhishma speaking? Such words do not suit Bhishma, child. Who has the power to shake his firm peace? There is no truth greater than time. Time will answer all your questions. Till then, just keep doing your duty. The burden of duty that you yourself took on your shoulders, you must carry it."

"I do not fear duty, Mother," Bhishma said. "Only its result sometimes makes me deeply worried."

"What is not in your hands, why think about it?" Ganga said. "At every moment of life, first decide what your duty is. Then keep carrying out that duty. Only do it as fully as you can, with all your heart. There should be no failing in it. Now your duty is to raise the three princes of Hastinapur. Raise them according to your own judgment, wisdom, and worth. They are the future of Hastinapur. You are only their protector. To protect them is your duty."

Bhishma bowed again. "As you command, Mother. Now I will do that work. I will raise Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidura in every way. May they grow up and bring good to Hastinapur. You, you bless me, Mother."

"Remain firm in your duty. Be victorious, child."

Taking leave of his mother, Bhishma walked back toward the royal palace.

Now his chief duty was to shape the princes. The future of Hastinapur depended upon him. He took upon his own shoulders the full responsibility for the education of Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidura.

Under Bhishma's teaching, Dhritarashtra grew extremely strong. On the other side, no one had the power to defeat Pandu in archery. And Vidura—he was like Dharma himself. His knowledge of the scriptures was unmatched. Very few in the world were as wise as he was. Along with that, his mind was very sharp.

Another great quality of Vidura was that he always spoke the truth. Whatever he understood to be true and beneficial, that advice he gave. He was brave and fearless.

In Vidura, Bhishma seemed to see his own shadow.

He felt that among the three princes, Vidura was the most fit to sit on the throne. But Vidura was the son of a Shudra maid, so the throne of Hastinapur was not for him. And after all that, Dhritarashtra was blind from birth. He too was not fit for the throne.

So Pandu became the heir to the throne of Hastinapur.

By the order of Queen Mother Satyavati, Bhishma crowned him king at the proper time. With the approval of all the elders of the royal court and of his elder brother Dhritarashtra, Pandu sat upon the throne.

After so long, that day Hastinapur held a great festival on receiving a king from the line of King Shantanu. Bhishma invited Brahmin scholars and Vedic sages from many lands. For the welfare of the new king, they began a great sacrifice. The fire of the sacrifice lit up Hastinapur.

But when the younger brother sits upon the throne, leaving out the elder brother, does it not cause pain in the elder brother's heart?

Surely it does.

Human nature is very complex. Some must live with a smile upon their face and fire in their chest.

I know what was going on in Dhritarashtra's mind. I believe Bhishma knew it too. So he was waiting for the right chance. As soon as the festival ended, he called Vidura to his chamber.

He badly needed Vidura's advice now.

Other than Vidura, no one could show him the way.