The Call to Play Cards

The great royal sacrifice had ended in glory. Kings had bowed their heads. Gifts had filled the halls. Yudhishthira, son of Dharma, had been honored as emperor.

Then Maharshi Vyasa spoke to him with affection and gravity.

“Child Yudhishthira, your royal sacrifice has been successful. You have now become the emperor of all kings. Now you have nothing to fear. Rule in peace and happiness, son. I wish to return with my disciples.”

Yudhishthira bowed deeply and said, “Maharshi, do I have no more doubts now? Please be kind and tell me this before you go. Maharshi, who else but you can free me from doubt?”

Vyasa looked at him steadily.

“No, King, you are still not free from doubt. Because of Duryodhana’s crime, because of its result, and because of the strength of Bhima and Arjuna, all the Kshatriya kings will be destroyed. This terrible disaster will happen around you, King. You will see a dreadful dream, Yudhishthira. Holding a trident in his hand, seated on the back of a bull, Mahadeva will look angrily at his enemies. This dream will come true, child. But you, you must not be afraid. No one can break the law of destiny, Yudhishthira, not even I. I have only told you what is to come. Ask me nothing more. I shall leave now.”

Yudhishthira lowered his head.

“My respects, Maharshi.”

“May good come to you, King,” Vyasa said.

When the sage had gone, Yudhishthira stood in deep sorrow.

Will the Kshatriyas be destroyed because of me? he thought. No, the words of Vyasa cannot be false. Then this is what is written on my forehead. I will not be able to defeat fate by human effort.

He turned to Arjuna.

“Arjuna, you heard what the Maharshi said. If I am to be the cause of the destruction of the Kshatriyas, then I do not wish to keep such a life. I will embrace death. Until death comes, I will live a life of penance.”

Arjuna answered with folded hands, “Forgive me, King. Delusion and fear destroy a man’s wisdom. Such words do not suit the mouth of a righteous man like you. Please judge the seriousness of the situation and follow the path that seems good and right to you, King.”

Yudhishthira was silent for some time. Then he said, “Very well. If I remain alive for the next thirteen years, then no one will be dear or hateful to me, no one enemy or friend. I will look upon all beings equally. Then no difference will arise. Then perhaps I may escape that ruin and that war.”

Arjuna bowed.

“So it shall be, Maharaj. We all will follow this way of life of yours.”

Yet destiny had already begun to move.

Is there really any match between what people think and what truly happens? No, what is meant to happen will surely happen. It can never be stopped. I had told Yudhishthira that too, but in excitement and confusion he tried to push away his fate. Can that ever happen?

Yudhishthira’s fate was waiting for him in his own hall at Indraprastha.

The invited kings had returned to their own kingdoms. The festival was over. But Duryodhana still remained in Indraprastha with his uncle Shakuni.

In the rush of crowds and celebration, he had not properly seen the wonderful hall built by the demon Maya. There was no hall like it in Hastinapura. Indeed, nowhere in all Aryavarta was there such a marvel. So Duryodhana stayed behind to look carefully at that hall and at the wealth and happiness of the Pandavas.

But the strange palace troubled him at every step.

Light flashed across crystal floors and colored stones. His eyes were dazzled. Sometimes he mistook a crystal pond for water and lifted up his garments to avoid getting them wet. At other times he mistook clear water lined with crystal for solid ground, stepped forward, and fell straight into the pond. His royal clothes were soaked.

Seeing Duryodhana dripping from head to foot, Bhima and Arjuna burst into laughter.

Bhima called out, “Hey, what are you doing, Duryodhana? Why have you left the land and become a creature of the water?”

Arjuna said, “Brother Duryodhana seems to be turning into a mermaid.”

Then one of them added with teasing mischief, “You may help him a little, middle brother.”

Another voice came warmly and politely. It was Yudhishthira.

“What is this, younger brother, what has happened to you? How did you fall into the water? Come, come, come, come, hold my hand and rise up, Duryodhana.”

Then Yudhishthira called, “Attendant, attendant, where are you?”

The servant came running. “Here I am, Maharaj.”

“Give your order.”

“Bring the finest clothes at once for Prince Duryodhana.”

“Yes, Maharaj.”

Then Yudhishthira said gently, “Brother Duryodhana, here is my store of the finest royal clothes, all of these are yours. Younger brother, wear whatever dress you like.”

But what did that kindness matter to Duryodhana? He had been humiliated before everyone. His heart filled with disgust and rage. He could not even look properly at Bhima and Arjuna.

And his embarrassment was not over.

In that crystal palace, more sorrow still waited for him. Once, not understanding that there was a crystal door before him, he struck his forehead while trying to go out. Again, thinking that an open passage was only sunlight shining on crystal, he could not find the way outside.

Bewildered, he muttered to himself, “Ah, what is this! Is that crystal wall again? Then where is the way out? It was right here. Should I go that way? No, no, wait, wait, that too must surely be a crystal pillar. Then which way should I go?”

At that moment Nakula came near and asked respectfully, “Prince Duryodhana, are you looking for something?”

Duryodhana turned sharply. “Elder brother? Who is that? Nakula?”

Nakula answered softly, “I am looking, yes. Well, may I help you, elder brother?”

Duryodhana said bitterly, “Have you also come to mock me like your brothers, Nakula?”

“No, no, Prince, why would I mock you?” Nakula replied. “You are our guest. A guest is the very form of Narayana. You are looking for the way out, are you not, Prince? Come, come, I will show you the way.”

But even Nakula’s gentle voice could not cool the fire in Duryodhana’s heart. Bhima’s and Arjuna’s laughter had struck him like arrows. In Yudhishthira’s hall he had faced one humiliation after another. He was already burning with jealousy at the greatness of the Pandavas. These insults made his anger even greater. Helpless and furious, he felt torn apart within.

At last Duryodhana took leave of Yudhishthira and set out for Hastinapura with Shakuni.

After they left Indraprastha, Duryodhana did not speak a single word. Again and again deep sighs escaped him. His face looked dark and heavy like a thick rain cloud.

Shakuni watched his nephew carefully. At last he asked in a gentle voice, “Duryodhana, what has happened to you? Why are you so silent, son? And why are you sighing so often? What are you thinking about so much, Duryodhana? Can you hear me? I am asking you something.”

Duryodhana answered slowly, “Forgive me, Uncle. I did not hear what you said.”

“I can see that, son,” said Shakuni. “What I do not understand is what is troubling your mind so much.”

“My heart feels very heavy, Uncle. Nothing feels good anymore.”

“Why? Did someone say something to you? Did someone insult you?”

“No, Uncle, nothing like that. I cannot steady myself after seeing the greatness of the Pandavas. By the strength of Bhima and Arjuna, the whole world is now under Yudhishthira’s control. The sacrifice that even Lord Indra performed, Yudhishthira has performed it too. All the kings of the earth accepted Yudhishthira as the greatest and paid him tribute. Uncle, did you not see it? Did you see, Uncle? Did you see Krishna’s injustice? In a full assembly he killed Shishupala like that. All the kings of the world were seated there. No one protested because they feared the Pandavas.”

Shakuni nodded. “I saw that too, child. Bhishma, the son of Ganga, was there, and even he made no protest.”

Duryodhana’s voice grew more bitter. “The wealth of royalty is overflowing in Yudhishthira’s treasury. I can no longer bear the happiness of the Pandavas, Uncle. I am burning in jealousy. I do not wish to keep this life anymore. Death would be better for me.”

“Duryodhana, what are you saying?”

“I am speaking the truth, Uncle. Either I will jump into fire, or drink poison, or drown myself in water. Other than death, no path is left open before me, Uncle. I am not a child or a woman. What strong man can bear his own helplessness? You tell me. Brother Duhshasana was right. The power of fate is greater than the power of effort. That day I could not believe it, but today I believe it with all my heart. I did not make small efforts for the destruction of the Pandavas, but look at their fortune. In spite of all my efforts, they are floating like lotus flowers. Even after returning from Hastinapura, I cannot forget that wonderful hall of Yudhishthira and the mockery of the Pandavas, Uncle. I will not return to the kingdom. Death is better for me. Please go and tell my father the news of my death.”

Shakuni answered carefully, “Duryodhana, slowly, child, slowly. Do you not know that anger is the cause of ruin? Why do you bear so much hatred toward Yudhishthira, son? Their fortune is very favorable. They have always had the help of that fortune. By that same fortune they gained Draupadi. They also received the help of King Drupada and Krishna. No one has any control over fortune, son.”

Duryodhana said, “Yes, Uncle, fortune. Otherwise how could a kingdom that had no relation to them become theirs...”

“No, son, do not be mistaken,” said Shakuni. “Your father himself gave them a part of their ancestral kingdom by his own hand. That means they surely had a claim to this kingdom, did they not? The part they received, they turned into an empire by their own effort. That is the real truth, Duryodhana. I do not understand why this troubles you so much, son. If Yudhishthira has Bhima and Arjuna with him, then you too have Dronacharya, Kripacharya, King Karna of Anga, Duhshasana, Ashwatthama—are they not with you? Why do you not build such an empire yourself?”

Duryodhana’s eyes flashed. “Are you speaking for me, Uncle, or for Yudhishthira? Listen, Uncle, if you permit me, then with these great warriors I will conquer the Pandavas. Then the whole earth will come under my rule. And that hall of Yudhishthira, that too will belong only to me. Mine! I am Duryodhana. I will be the lord of this earth. I will make those Pandavas beggars and take everything from them.”

Shakuni looked at him for a moment and then said, “Son Duryodhana, I see you have become very restless. But perhaps you have forgotten one unavoidable truth completely.”

“What have I forgotten? Please speak clearly, Uncle.”

“Ah, I am telling you, I am telling you, let me think a little. Listen, son, if Vasudeva Krishna, King Drupada, and Dhrishtadyumna stand beside the five Pandavas, then no power on earth can defeat them, understand? Not even Lord Indra has that power. You cannot deny this, son.”

Duryodhana lowered his head. “Yes, Uncle, you have spoken truly. Then what is the way?”

Shakuni smiled.

“I have a way, Duryodhana. By the strength of this plan, you can defeat Yudhishthira without war. Listen to me, and it will be good for you, son.”

“Very well, please tell me, Uncle. What must I do?”

“Listen, son, Yudhishthira greatly loves the game of dice, but he is very weak in it. Yet if he is invited in the name of a dice game, he must come. And you know, son, in this game of dice no one in all the three worlds can defeat me. So do one thing, son. Invite Yudhishthira to play dice. Then see, one by one, I will bring you the kingdom of the Pandavas, their royal wealth, everything. Just bring me permission from King Dhritarashtra, Duryodhana.”

Duryodhana said at once, “No, no, Uncle, I cannot do that. You tell Father everything.”

“All right, fine,” said Shakuni. “Then I myself shall do this work for you too.”

As soon as they reached Hastinapura, Shakuni went with Duryodhana to King Dhritarashtra.

The day’s court was over. The king was resting in his chamber when they entered.

Shakuni bowed and said, “Victory to the Maharaj. I have come here with Duryodhana because I wish to place an important matter before you, Maharaj.”

Dhritarashtra asked, “What is it, King of Gandhara? You have come straight to me after returning from Indraprastha? Is all well?”

Shakuni answered, “If all were well, would I come to you without even brushing the dust from my feet, Maharaj?”

The blind king grew anxious.

“What has happened, King of Gandhara? Nothing bad has happened to my Duryodhana, has it?”

“No, Maharaj. But how long before it does? It is out of that fear that I have come to tell you the matter.”

“Then speak at once. I can no longer be patient.”

“O best of the Bharatas, your Duryodhana is growing thin from sorrow and worry, Maharaj. Examine him yourself just once.”

Dhritarashtra turned toward his son.

“Son Duryodhana, what is your uncle saying? I can find no reason for you to grow thin like this. Every day you eat the finest food with meat. All the delicious foods of the earth are yours without effort. There is no disease in your healthy, strong body either. So you should be cheerful, son. I have given you charge of this vast kingdom of mine, beautiful women, and great wealth. Your brothers, relatives, and friends do not go against you either. Then why are you becoming so sad? If it is something I may hear, then tell me the reasons at once, son.”

Duryodhana replied, “Maharaj, what you say is true. I use fine food, drink, and clothing, that is true; but there is not the least happiness in my heart. I am only living like a coward.”

“A coward? What are you saying, Duryodhana?”

“Yes, Maharaj, I speak truly. No one can be happy while carrying favor and fear in his heart, Father. Nor can I.”

“Who has shown you favor, son? And whom does mighty Duryodhana fear? Tell me, son. I wish to answer all your doubts at once.”

Duryodhana said, “The royal wealth of Yudhishthira has deeply disturbed me, Father. Such terrible prosperity of the Pandavas burns in my heart like a thorn. I can no longer bear to see with my own eyes such glory in my enemies.”

Dhritarashtra tried to calm him. “The kingdom of the Pandavas does not have as much wealth as yours has, son. Be at peace. And well then, tell me what more you need, Duryodhana. I shall bring it all to you.”

But Duryodhana answered, “No, Father, you cannot even imagine that wealth. In Yudhishthira’s palace, 88 thousand Vedic Brahmins, and for each one 30 maidservants, are fed and served every day. Every day ten thousand guests eat fine food from golden vessels. The wealth the Pandavas have, even Indra, Kubera, and Varuna do not have, Father. I saw with my own eyes the riches that kings, Brahmins, and Vaishyas brought there as tribute, Father. During the royal sacrifice, after one lakh Brahmins finished eating each day, a great conch would sound. How many times it sounded through the day, no one could count on fingers. Then when Vasudeva performed Yudhishthira’s anointing with many jewel-studded golden pots and fine conches, my heart was torn apart, Father. Seeing that endless wealth of my enemy, I am becoming more and more miserable.”

At once Shakuni said, “Maharaj, Maharaj, you have now heard everything from Duryodhana’s own mouth. Now please tell him the way to remedy this.”

Dhritarashtra said slowly, “King, let me think a little. Son, I have understood all that you said, but I cannot say anything at once about its remedy. Let me think first.”

Duryodhana spoke quickly. “I know the remedy, Father. Uncle Shakuni is extremely skilled at dice. By his throws of the dice, he wishes to take away everything from the Pandavas. Give him your permission, Father.”

Dhritarashtra frowned. “I cannot make any decision in this matter without consulting my minister Vidura, Duryodhana. I wish to hear Vidura’s advice on whether a proposal for dice is right or wrong. You will have to wait, son.”

Then Duryodhana answered in anger, “Maharaj, Minister Vidura will never approve this proposal. He will stop you, and you too will listen to him and refuse to order the dice game. Very well, if that makes you happy, then so be it. Enjoy the whole earth with your Vidura. I will have no place there. I will not keep this life any longer. This very moment I shall give up my life, King.”

Dhritarashtra cried out, “Duryodhana! No, what are you saying, son? Do not be so cruel to your old father, child. Nothing can be dearer to me than your peace.”

Weak with love for his son, Dhritarashtra lost the battle within his own heart. He knew the dice game was wrong. That was why he had wanted Vidura’s advice. But Duryodhana’s wish was like law to him. The king was defeated by his son.

At once he gave orders to the royal servants.

“Send word at once to all the craftsmen of the land. Let them quickly build a beautiful hall adorned with jewels. It shall have a thousand pillars and 100 doors.”

The servants bowed. “Yes, Maharaj. We are summoning the craftsmen at once.”

Dhritarashtra ordered a splendid hall to be built for the game of dice. Yet he was not a man who acted without informing Vidura. So even in his weakness, and despite Duryodhana’s objection, he sent word to Vidura.

When Vidura heard the message, anger and sorrow rose together in his heart.

“Alas, alas, Maharaj, what have you done!” he said to himself. “Through the main door of the hall he is building, the dark age itself will enter. From this hall the seeds of the destruction of the Kshatriyas will spread. No, no, I must go to the Maharaj at once. This evil must be stopped, otherwise, otherwise there will be complete ruin.”

He quickly came to the royal court of Hastinapura. Standing before King Dhritarashtra, Vidura clasped the king’s feet and said in pain,

“Maharaj, Maharaj, forgive me. I cannot praise this step of yours in any way. I cannot advise you to hold this dice game, Maharaj. Great destruction will come from it, King. Great destruction. A conflict will arise between your sons and the Pandavas. Do not let that happen, Maharaj. Do not let that happen, do not let it happen, Maharaj.”

Dhritarashtra answered, “Vidura, if the gods are with us, then no such disaster will happen. Do not be afraid. Rivalry is wrong, but a courteous game is not immoral. Both sides will keep good manners, Vidura. And even if something does go wrong, Elder Bhishma, world-teacher Drona, the family preceptor, you, I—we so many wise men will be present in that hall. Will we not be able to manage the situation, Vidura?”

Vidura began, “We shall, but Maharaj...”

But Dhritarashtra interrupted him.

“No, Vidura, do not go against my order. I believe in fate. Fate itself has led me on this path. Go at once in a swift chariot to Indraprastha. By my order bring Yudhishthira here for the game of dice, Vidura.”

The news of the dice game reached Queen Gandhari through a maidservant. When she heard that Yudhishthira had been invited to play, she became deeply troubled.

During the king’s time of rest, Gandhari entered his private chamber.

“Maharaj!”

Dhritarashtra said, “Queen! At such an unusual hour? Come, come. Is there any special reason?”

“The reason is very serious, Maharaj. So I could not help coming to you.”

“Yes, yes, speak, Queen, speak. You sound very worried.”

Gandhari replied, “It is good that at least my worry has not escaped your notice. But have you thought carefully about what is about to happen in Hastinapura, Maharaj?”

“In Hastinapura? Are you speaking of the dice game, Maharani? So you too have heard the news? No, Gandhari, do not worry. It is only a courteous game. There is no need to be so troubled about it.”

Gandhari answered sharply, “Are you trying to reassure me, or are you trying to hide your own worry, Maharaj? What ruin are you calling upon yourself by listening to Duryodhana and Brother Shakuni, Maharaj? You yourself hold full power in this kingdom. Are you being guided by others? Do you truly agree with what you are about to do? Have you forgotten how destructive the game of dice is, and especially how my son and brother are always trying to plot against the Pandavas together?”

Dhritarashtra said, “I assure you, Gandhari, nothing like that will happen. You are fearing without cause. Besides, Elder Bhishma, Guru Drona, the family preceptor, and I myself will be in that hall. Then why are you so afraid, Maharani?”

Gandhari asked at once, “Has Vidura agreed to it, Maharaj?”

Dhritarashtra hesitated. “Vidura? Well, you know, Gandhari, Vidura always speaks of justice, duty, and righteousness. So this game of dice he...”

Gandhari understood. “You wish to do a thing that Vidura has not approved, Maharaj?”

“I am the king,” Dhritarashtra said stiffly. “What I command will happen. Vidura is my minister. He can only advise me, nothing more. He has no power to decide.”

Gandhari said quietly, “You have spoken rightly, Maharaj. Very well then, you yourself must be ready to bear all the burden of what is to come. Give your command, Maharaj, I shall return to the inner chambers.”

After she left, Dhritarashtra sat in uneasy thought.

The burden! What burden was the Maharani speaking of? I am thinking of this dice game as the command of fate itself. Does man have any control over fate? Then Vidura... does Vidura not accept this as fate?

He had already sent Vidura to Indraprastha with orders to bring Yudhishthira. Yet he understood very well that Vidura had gone unwillingly. He had also heard Gandhari’s objection. From that time on, his earlier excitement faded. A painful question troubled him.

Was he truly doing wrong?

After Vidura had left, Dhritarashtra called Duryodhana to him in private one day.

“Son, listen to me carefully. Look, there is no need for this game of dice. Vidura has not agreed to it, and where Vidura does not agree, I do not act. Whatever Vidura says, he says for the good of Hastinapura. It will be for your welfare to listen to him, son. Vidura knows every teaching spoken by Brihaspati, the guru of the gods. Just as Uddhava is the greatest wise man among the Vrishnis, so Vidura is among the Kurus. So I tell you, son, there is no need for the dice game. This game will create useless division among kinsmen.”

Duryodhana replied at once, “Father, to you your royal minister is far more important than your own son. Then what use is there in my living any longer?”

Dhritarashtra said helplessly, “No, son, no, I did not say that even once. You are the jewel of my head. But son, you have my kingdom. If now you wish to perform a sacrifice like Yudhishthira’s, I shall arrange it. Give to the Brahmins as much as they wish. Or if you wish to enjoy anything, there is no obstacle in that either. Go to some pleasant place and enjoy yourself with women, Duryodhana. All the wealth of this Hastinapura is under your control. Then why do you envy Yudhishthira, son?”

Duryodhana answered, “Maharaj, I already told you before, I have no taste for an ordinary kingdom. Since I saw with my own eyes the bright royal fortune of Indraprastha, I have become restless without it, Maharaj. The kings who are the greatest in wealth on earth, who are equal to Indra in riches and strength, even they paid tribute to Yudhishthira, Maharaj. In the royal hall of Indraprastha they sat with bowed heads. In this wide earth only two lineages did not pay tribute to Yudhishthira—the Panchalas because of marriage ties, and the Andhakas and Vrishnis because of friendship. Even then Vasudeva Krishna gave several thousand fine elephants to honor Arjuna. In the royal hall of Indraprastha, I myself was in charge of receiving the gifts, Father. I have seen Yudhishthira’s wealth with my own eyes.”

Dhritarashtra said, “Son Duryodhana, if you wish to gain such wealth, then I can arrange it at once.”

“But Father,” Duryodhana replied, “will you be able to soothe the pain of the insult I suffered in that crystal hall of Indraprastha? Seeing my embarrassment caused by ignorance, the five Pandavas, Draupadi, even the servants and maids mocked me enough. I have not forgotten that insult, Father. If my humiliation does not pain you, then listen to Vidura’s words. You have no need of me anymore, Maharaj.”

Dhritarashtra cried out in distress, “Duryodhana! Son Duryodhana! Why do you say the same thing again and again? You are my eldest child. You are my everything. You are the only light in my dark world. You do not know how helpless I am without you, Duryodhana. Then why do you wound me so again and again, son? Your wish shall be fulfilled. Be at peace, son.”

Thus the king gave way once more.

With Dhritarashtra’s message, Vidura came swiftly to Indraprastha in a fast chariot.

Yudhishthira’s palace shone like the court of Kubera himself. But Vidura was in no mood to admire its beauty. He went at once to Yudhishthira.

Yudhishthira welcomed him with honor. “Yudhishthira, accept my greetings, Uncle Vidura. Please be seated. You have come so suddenly without sending any news! And why does your face look so troubled? Is all well?”

Vidura answered, “Yes, child, all is well.”

Yudhishthira asked, “Is the old king of Hastinapura and his relatives well? Are his hundred sons and the people still obedient to him?”

“Yes, son, King Dhritarashtra is well. His sons and the people of the kingdom all obey his commands.”

“Then what is the cause of your sorrow, Uncle?”

Vidura sighed and said, “Then listen, Yudhishthira. I have come to you as the messenger of King Dhritarashtra of Hastinapura, carrying a special message from him. He has sent word that a special hall has been built in Hastinapura for you. That hall is as delightful as your own. Come to Hastinapura, see that hall, and take joy in it. There sit with your brothers and play dice like friends. We shall enjoy seeing it. For your pleasure, skilled dice players have been brought there. Come to Hastinapura with your family and take part in the dice game. Bearing this command of King Dhritarashtra, I have come to you, Yudhishthira. Now do what you yourself think is right.”

Yudhishthira’s face grew serious.

“But a dice game is not just, Uncle. It may cause bitterness among relatives and create division among ourselves. What do you say about this? We all wait for your guidance.”

Vidura answered honestly, “I know that dice is the root of disaster, Yudhishthira. I warned the Maharaj many times about it. I even tried to make this plan fail. But the Maharaj himself sent me to you, Yudhishthira. Now do what you yourself think is right.”

Then Yudhishthira asked, “Uncle, I have one question for you. Other than the hundred Kauravas, what skilled dice players are present there? Please tell me that.”

Vidura replied, “Shakuni, son of the king of Gandhara, skilled in dice, Vivimshati, King Chitrasena, Satyavrata, Puromitra, and Jaya—all of them are present there.”

Yudhishthira was silent for a moment. Then he said, “I understand. I see that the greatest dice players, full of terrible patience and deceit, have gathered there. How strange is the will of the Creator! He too has placed this world under fate. Uncle, I cannot disobey the command of King Dhritarashtra. Since he has called me, I must go. But I tell you one true thing—I have no wish at all to play dice. Yet there is the command of the king. What shall I do? If someone calls me, I do not turn him away—that has been my lifelong vow. But unless the king himself asks me to play with Shakuni, I will not play.”

Vidura stayed that night in Indraprastha.

The next day Yudhishthira ordered preparations for the journey to Hastinapura. At the proper time, with Draupadi and the other members of the family, the five Pandavas rode out in chariots with Vidura.

As they traveled toward Hastinapura, Yudhishthira spoke quietly to Vidura.

“Uncle, just as a thing of great brightness can steal a man’s sight, in the same way fate can steal away a man’s wisdom. A man then becomes like one under another’s control, bound by his own destiny.”

Vidura answered, “Son Yudhishthira, you are wise and patient. What new thing can I say to you? I am only the messenger of King Dhritarashtra. Other than carrying his message, I am unable to enter into any further discussion.”

Understanding Vidura’s policy, Yudhishthira said no more.

Yet in his heart he may already have felt the sign of great Time drawing near. He did not wish to play dice. Still, he had been compelled to come to Hastinapura. Whether he was preparing himself inwardly for the destiny ahead, only time would reveal.