The Exile of the Pandavas

King Yudhishthira sat in the forest, troubled in heart. Then the holy sage spoke to him in a calm and gentle voice.

“King Yudhishthira, let me tell you something. Listen, O King. During this long exile in the forest, always remember this. The main cause of all sorrow in this world is man. It is man who lies at the root of every kind of suffering in the world. This earth is covered with two kinds of human sorrow, bodily and mental.”

Yudhishthira bowed his head and asked, “But holy sage, how can man be freed from this sorrow?”

The sage replied, “A very wise man like you should never be crushed by grief because of this, O King. But do you know what causes sorrow to ordinary people? Disease, hard labor, contact with something or someone unpleasant, and separation from whatever is dear. These four are suffering. The first two are physical. The last two are mental.”

“Great sage,” said Yudhishthira, “if I am to carry the burden of this long twelve-year exile, then I urgently need freedom from sorrow. Please help me, O holy rishi. Tell me the way to be free.”

The sage answered, “Listen, O King. A doctor cures the pain of the body, but the pain of the mind must be cured by oneself. If one does not dwell on the causes of mental sorrow, then one can be free from mental pain. Again, mental sorrow is also the cause of bodily weakness. This sorrow heats the body. O King, just as fire is put out with water, in the same way, use wisdom to end this sorrow.”

Yudhishthira asked again, “Great soul, if strong desire for enjoyment remains in the mind, is it really possible to end sorrow?”

The sage said, “Great King, you are royal men. By birth you had the right to enjoy a kingdom. Fate has brought you far away from all comfort and enjoyment. So it is natural that your mind still feels drawn to the kingdom and to happiness. But as long as that attraction remains, sorrow will not end. Great King, staying away from worldly things is not true detachment. The one who remains untouched by them even while living among them, he alone has true detachment. This state cannot be reached unless knowledge awakens.”

Yudhishthira sighed deeply. “Great soul, I have no attachment to wealth or worldly things. But the holy men and Brahmins who are with me need to be fed and cared for. They have followed me. It is our duty to support them. But I cannot do that because I have no wealth. Great soul, this suffering is causing me terrible pain.”

Then the sage said, “As long as the sage Dhaumya is with you, why should you suffer? He alone can remove this sorrow of yours. O King, go to him.”

Even after Yudhishthira spoke again and again, the Brahmins did not leave him. So he went to the sage Dhaumya for help in feeding and caring for them. In that deep forest, how would the Pandavas arrange food for so many mouths? And where would Draupadi find the things needed for cooking? Yet if Yudhishthira failed to serve Brahmins and holy men, he would fall from dharma.

At such a time of trouble, seeing no other way, Yudhishthira went before the sage Dhaumya as ordered by the great sage Shaunaka. With folded hands, he spoke of his pain.

Hearing his sorrowful prayer, the sage Dhaumya comforted him and said, “King Yudhishthira, do not worry. There is still one way to protect your dharma. But to make that way work, you must accept great hardship.”

“I can do anything, great soul,” said Yudhishthira. “Please tell me what I must do. What should I do so that these hungry Brahmins may eat?”

Dhaumya answered, “There is no path except penance, O King. Before this, kings like Prithu, Nahusha, and Bhima also saved their people from every danger by following the path of penance and yoga. Like them, you too are born in a noble family and have gained merit through good deeds. Your nature is pure. So begin penance like them, Yudhishthira. Without penance, you will not be able to protect your dharma.”

Yudhishthira said, “I will perform penance, O holy sage. But whose worship should I do, and how should I do it? Please tell me.”

The sage replied, “Among living beings, the Sun himself is the source of grain. Therefore worship the Sun. I will teach you the one hundred and eight names of the Sun god. Listen, O King. Practice those names. The gods, the ancestors, the asuras, and the rakshasas all praise him. You too should perform penance to him. If you worship the Sun with a pure heart and a steady mind, you will be freed even from unbearable sorrow.”

After sipping the sacred Ganga water, holding his breath, and standing in the Ganga with one-pointed mind, Yudhishthira began his penance, looking toward the Sun. With a pure and peaceful heart, the eldest Pandava began praising the Sun.

“O Sun god, lord of food, I worship you with deep respect and pray for food, so that I may feed and care for all my guests and well-wishers. Be kind, Lord. Give me food.”

Then the Sun god answered him.

“O Yudhishthira, all that you ask for shall be yours. For the twelve years of your exile in the forest, I shall give you food.”

Yudhishthira bowed and said, “Your mercy is endless, Lord.”

The radiant god said, “I give you a copper vessel, O King. As long as Draupadi has not eaten, the food cooked in this vessel, fruits, meat, greens, and other things, will never run out. There will be no trouble in feeding your guests. But after Draupadi has eaten, you will find no more food in this vessel. This vessel will remain with you for fourteen years. For after fourteen years from today, you will no longer need it. Then you will regain your kingdom.”

Yudhishthira said with folded hands, “O Lord, your grace is endless. I bow down to you.”

The Sun god blessed him. “You are on the path of dharma, Yudhishthira. So whatever is rightly yours by dharma will surely come to you. Never turn away from dharma, child, never turn away. Blessings be upon you.”

After receiving the blessing of the Sun god, Yudhishthira came up from the Ganga. Freed from the worry of feeding guests, he was now fully at peace. After bathing, he came out holding the copper vessel. He bowed to the sage Dhaumya and told him everything.

Then the eldest Pandava embraced his brothers. Draupadi came and bowed to Yudhishthira, and then the two of them began cooking together. Many kinds of food were prepared, though the amount seemed very small. But the wonderful thing was that the food in that vessel kept increasing.

With that food, Yudhishthira first fed the Brahmins. Then he fed his four brothers. After the four Pandavas had eaten, Draupadi seated Yudhishthira for his meal. At the very end, she sat down to eat herself. Such was the power of that vessel that after Draupadi ate, even if food still seemed to remain in it, the vessel became completely empty. By the grace of the Sun god, there was now no want of food in the household of the five Pandavas.

Then Yudhishthira said, “O great sage, I am now free from the heavy worry of serving guests according to dharma. Now we wish to begin our daily religious duties. Great sage, please arrange a sacrifice for us according to the rules of the Vedas.”

Dhaumya replied, “King Yudhishthira, after performing sacrifice and rites for peace and blessing, we shall all go toward the Kamyaka forest.”

With the sage Dhaumya leading them, the Pandavas moved toward the Kamyaka forest. All the sages and Brahmins followed them.

Meanwhile in Hastinapura, King Dhritarashtra sat sadly, like an unhappy man. There was no peace in his heart.

In that kingdom only two men spoke the truth to him. Even if he did not like that truth, they never turned away from it. One was the chief minister Vidura. The other was his loyal companion Sanjaya. Sanjaya, who was very dear to Dhritarashtra, his well-wisher and charioteer, was also a disciple of my Vyasa. So Dhritarashtra respected his reason, judgment, and understanding.

After the Pandavas left Hastinapura, Dhritarashtra called Sanjaya.

“My respects, O King. You called for me?”

Dhritarashtra said, “Who is it, Sanjaya? Come, come near me. Sit.”

Sanjaya looked at him with concern. “King, are you well? You seem very troubled and unwell.”

The blind king answered, “Since the Pandavas went to the forest, I have lost all taste for food, sleep, and work, Sanjaya. It truly feels as if old age has now surrounded me. Worry for Hastinapura and for my sons has made me almost mad. Sanjaya, tell me, no danger will come to the Kauravas, will it?”

Sanjaya replied, “King, you have received what you wanted. You have become lord of the whole earth, rich with wealth. Not even a trace of the Pandavas remains. This is the time when you should be happy, O King. Then why do you mourn like this today?”

Dhritarashtra said in a shaken voice, “I cannot drive the fear of disaster from my heart, Sanjaya. This golden kingdom of mine, my hundred sons, my Duryodhana, will they remain safe? Will our kinsmen not become enemies of one another? Whenever I think of this, my heart fills with sorrow. Show me some remedy, Sanjaya.”

Sanjaya answered, “King, the matter for which you are grieving was created by you yourself. Think a little. Are you not yourself responsible for this situation? Before all this happened, you could have stopped it, but you did not. Right before your eyes Duryodhana deeply insulted the Pandavas. In that full royal court he even tried to dishonor Draupadi, the wife of the Pandavas. All that happened before you, O King. Why were you silent then?”

Dhritarashtra said weakly, “Sanjaya, you know everything. To please Duryodhana, there was no other way.”

Sanjaya spoke firmly. “Forgive me, King, but love for your son has made you lose your way. You have lost the power to judge what is right and what is wrong. King, when fate brings a man to the edge of ruin, it strikes down his sense of right and wrong. He cannot even understand his own good. Even injustice begins to seem like justice. When destruction comes near, the mind grows dark, O King. Duryodhana’s mind is dark now.”

Dhritarashtra trembled. “Do you mean, do you mean Duryodhana’s time of happiness is almost over? Destruction? What are you saying, Sanjaya? Then Duryodhana...”

Sanjaya said, “King, Time does not raise a rod and crush a man’s head by hand. But when the moment of destruction comes near, it clouds his mind. Man then mistakes the very thing he should not do as his duty. Draupadi, born of the sacred fire, the noblest among women, full of glory, was dragged by force into the court. Such a vile insult must surely bring disaster, O King.”

“Sanjaya!”

Sanjaya continued, “Those two sorrowful eyes of Draupadi could burn the whole world itself. Then what will happen to my sons? Sanjaya, will they all be destroyed before my eyes? That day, seeing Draupadi in such a state, the women of the Kuru house and Queen Gandhari showed fierce anger. The Brahmins, in wrath, did not perform the sacred fire offerings that day. The palace banners fell down on their own. Great Bhishma, Kripa, Drona, Somadatta, and others rose silently and left the royal court. But even then you did not make peace with the Pandavas, O King.”

Dhritarashtra cried out, “No, no, Sanjaya, I did. At Vidura’s urging, I returned everything to Draupadi, Sanjaya. But—but all was wasted. Now if war truly comes, then if the great heroes Arjuna and Bhima attack together in the midst of the Panchala army and the Yadava forces, everything will be destroyed, Sanjaya. Everything will be destroyed. Believe me, I did not want this, did not want it. Tell me, what should I do? What should I do?”

Sanjaya said, “There is still time, O King. Call the Pandavas back. Return their kingdom into their own hands. Then you may be saved from that great war. Otherwise there is no other path. Send a proposal of peace to Yudhishthira through a messenger, O King.”

The words of Sanjaya sank deep into Dhritarashtra’s heart. If the Pandavas returned, his sons would be safe. Then there should be no delay. He began to think of how the Pandavas might be brought back. But Dhritarashtra knew very well that Crown Prince Duryodhana and his friend Karna would never accept such a proposal from their father. Still, he waited for a chance. And one day that chance came.

Duryodhana had placed the care of Hastinapura in the hands of Dronacharya. In matters of duty and wrong action in the kingdom, he now took Guru Drona’s advice as final.

One day the teacher called him and said, “Crown Prince Duryodhana, it is true that you have become lord of the whole earth. But this honor of yours will not last forever. The life of this happiness is not very long. So your duty did not end with driving the Pandavas out of Indraprastha. While this short-lived empire still remains, complete your other good works, O Prince. Charity, meditation, sacred fire rites, sacrifices, rites of peace and blessing, all these duties must now be performed by you.”

Duryodhana bowed and said, “As you command. Please instruct me, Gurudev, how these auspicious works should be carried out.”

Drona replied, “In the presence of all your good friends, relatives, and family members, the royal teacher and the royal priest together will perform these rites. After considering the tithi, the stars, and the proper auspicious time, Kripacharya will choose the suitable day for you, O Prince.”

Then Dhritarashtra spoke quickly, seizing the chance he had waited for. “If these holy rites are to be done before all relatives, then let the Pandavas be brought back from exile at once. Vidura, go to Yudhishthira with my order. If he hears my words, Yudhishthira will not refuse. You go, Vidura, or let one of my sons go there.”

At once Duryodhana answered with anger, “King, what order are you giving? The Pandavas are not our relatives, O King. They are our enemies. I have taken away their kingdom, wealth, property, and honor, and made them beggars. Are you still grieving for the Pandavas, O King? Are those beggars dearer to you than your own sons? Know this, O King, I am not afraid of Bhima and Arjuna. Even if the Panchalas, the Andhakas, the Vrishnis, or any other clan comes to fight for them, I, Duryodhana, will count them as straw. No messenger from Hastinapura will go to the Pandavas...”

Before Duryodhana’s roar and proud boasting, Dhritarashtra sat silent.

But it was hard to know the true mind of the people of Hastinapura. The departure of the Pandavas had already made them heavy-hearted. At Karna’s advice, Prince Duryodhana had indeed begun trying to please the people with gifts and rewards. But Dhritarashtra had deep doubts about how much that would really help. To free himself from that mental trouble, one day he called Vidura.

“You sent for me, O King? Please command me.”

Dhritarashtra said, “I am facing a deep crisis. You have a pure and clear mind like Shukracharya. You know the finest truths of dharma. You are not partial to either the Kauravas or the Pandavas. That is why I have called you, Vidura.”

Vidura answered, “Tell me everything clearly without doubt, O King.”

Dhritarashtra asked, “Vidura, are the people of Hastinapura truly angry with this Kuru family?”

Vidura replied, “King, the townspeople could not accept this treatment of the Pandavas in their hearts. They held a just king like Yudhishthira in the highest honor, O King. They blame you for the evil fate of such a truthful king.”

Dhritarashtra then asked, “The Pandavas will not attack Hastinapura with their Panchala relatives and Yadava friends, will they, Vidura?”

Vidura said, “King, among dharma, wealth, desire, and liberation, the wise say dharma is the highest. Yudhishthira lives by that dharma. He will never break his vow of twelve years of forest exile. But you are not following dharma, O King. You do not look equally upon Duryodhana and Yudhishthira. You have created division between them, O King. And on top of that there is Shakuni’s plotting. No, O King, no, I can see no way for your sons to escape the fruit of their sins. They must suffer the result of treating such a truthful king as Yudhishthira in this way.”

Dhritarashtra cried, “No, no, Vidura, do not say useless things. Only you, only you can tell me a way to save me from this heart-pain. Tell me that way, Vidura.”

Vidura answered, “Even if I speak, will you listen, O King? Will you act as I say? Your love for your son will stop you, O King. Besides, you are overcome by Duryodhana. You cannot do anything that would displease him, O King.”

Dhritarashtra said, “Vidura, it is the duty of the chief minister to show the right path to the king. Do not fail in that duty.”

Vidura bowed and spoke plainly. “Very well, then I shall speak, O King, listen. Return the Pandavas’ kingdom. Let your sons keep Hastinapura as it is. Call the Pandavas back and place Indraprastha in their hands. Otherwise even this Hastinapura will not remain in Duryodhana’s hands. Bhima and Arjuna together will destroy the Kuru army. In all the three worlds there is no weapon greater than the Gandiva, O King. Arjuna, who bears the Gandiva, can shoot arrows equally well with both hands. There is no warrior who can defeat him, O King. No warrior at all. And you yourself know of Bhima’s strength of arm, O King. So I say, O King, do not make needless enemies of the Pandavas.”

Dhritarashtra said bitterly, “Well, Vidura, you said this very same thing to me at the time of that dice game. And now you are saying the same thing again.”

“Yes, O King,” Vidura replied. “Because these words are the truth. I never speak falsehood, O King. So even today I cannot say anything else.”

Then Dhritarashtra’s anger rose. “You are the chief minister of Hastinapura, Vidura. Do you never see anything good in my sons? Do you think they have no virtue at all? Why do you never speak of anything good in Duryodhana, or Dushasana, or any other Kaurava, or even the great hero Karna who fights on their side? What kind of judgment is this, Vidura? Why do you always go about praising the five Pandavas? Duryodhana is right. You truly are partial.”

Vidura answered with sorrow, “King, I want your good. That is why, at the time of Duryodhana’s birth, I told you to cast him away. If you had listened to me that day, your mind would not be torn by this doubt today. You would not have had to see so much ruin before your eyes. But you did not listen to me, O King.”

Dhritarashtra said, “Vidura, I have heard this from you many times. Yes, I admit it, the Pandavas are like sons to me. But there is a great difference between being like a son and being one’s own son. Duryodhana was born from my own body. He is my own child. Should I sacrifice my own body for others? What kind of justice is that of yours? I was proud of you, Vidura. I thought you truly wished me well. But that is not so. Today I see that you want only the good of the Pandavas.”

Vidura spoke quietly, “King, forgive me. That is completely your wrong idea. I do not take anyone’s side. I speak only according to dharma and justice. But, O King, I know this well, justice is not for everyone, and not all people can accept the truth.”

But Dhritarashtra was no longer listening. In anger he said, “No, Vidura, you do not say even one thing for my good. Every word you speak is filled with hidden purpose. You are really Yudhishthira’s spy. No matter how much I love you, you will always look to the good of those Pandavas. Vidura, do you know what an unfaithful wife is like? However kindly you speak to her, she still goes to another man. You are just the same. I no longer trust you. I have no need of you. Whether you stay here or go elsewhere is entirely your wish. From now on, do not come before me again.”

After insulting Vidura, Dhritarashtra rose and left the court.

Vidura looked helplessly at the departing king. Then he gave a long sigh and said in his heart, “No, no, nothing good can happen to this family anymore. This family is truly destroyed, truly destroyed. I will not stay here any longer. I will go where the Pandavas are, where countless Brahmins and sages are. I will go there, there alone. Not here anymore, not here.”

At that time the Pandavas were staying in the Kamyaka forest on the bank of the Sarasvati river. This Kamyaka forest was truly beautiful. On the mountain plain stood many trees with sweet fruits, and countless lovely plants and vines. Many kinds of flowers bloomed on the trees. Their fragrance was wonderful. The sages were very fond of this forest.

When the five Pandavas came there with the Brahmins and sages, they were truly delighted. They decided to stay there. Before the learned sages, Yudhishthira began discussions on the Vedas and the scriptures.

Just then the sound of horse hooves was heard in the forest.

One of the brothers said, “Where is the sound of horse hooves coming from in this forest? It sounds as if someone is coming in a chariot. Is some royal person coming here? Who is it? Command me, O King, shall I go and see who is coming?”

Yudhishthira looked ahead and said, “No, there is no need for that, younger brother. Look there, it is the great Vidura coming. But why is he here? And why does he look so poor and troubled? Is he bringing some message from Hastinapura? Does that mean some new danger has come upon us?”

The younger brother could not understand clearly.

Yudhishthira, still troubled by fear, said, “Is this another trap of Shakuni? Will I have to go and play dice again? But what do I even have left now? Do they wish somehow to win away our weapons, Bhima? If anyone calls me to a dice game, I cannot refuse. But if the Gandiva bow is put in danger, then our hope of regaining the kingdom will also be put in danger, younger brother.”

Bhima answered with strength, “King, do not worry. The Gandiva will never be in danger. And even if some danger should come to the Gandiva, then by your blessing the strength of these two arms of Bhima will become equal to a hundred arms, O King.”

In the middle of the talk between Yudhishthira and Bhima, Vidura arrived there. All five brothers stood up and gave him due honor. They arranged rest and food for him. After Vidura had rested and become calm, Yudhishthira asked, “Dear uncle, what brings you to this Kamyaka forest? Is there some message for us from Hastinapura? Have you come carrying that message?”

Vidura replied, “No, Yudhishthira, there is no message for you. King Dhritarashtra has cast me aside. So I have come here to you in this Kamyaka forest.”

Bhima exclaimed, “Uncle, what are you saying? The King has cast you aside? You?”

Vidura nodded. “Yes, Bhima, yes, I speak the truth. As minister of King Dhritarashtra, I spoke only what would help him. But just as a young girl finds no liking for an old husband, in the same way Dhritarashtra has no liking for my words. None at all.”

Yudhishthira said, “I can understand your pain, uncle. But how can a minister leave his king? Being a righteous man, have you made the right decision?”

Vidura answered, “I did not come away by my own choice, child. When the King himself no longer wants me, there is no need for me to remain there. So, so I have come to you, child. I have come to you.”

Yudhishthira bowed deeply. “The five Pandavas are under your shelter, uncle. Before your ideals and your teachings we always bow down. You are our guide, great soul. If you stay here, we shall be blessed.”

Vidura looked at him with affection and said, “Listen, Yudhishthira, my duty is tied to Hastinapura. Today the King drove me away, so I came here. But—but if tomorrow I am called again, I must return. Yet, child, you still have to live this life in the forest for thirteen years. So I wish to remind you of a few very important things.”

“Please command me, uncle,” Yudhishthira said.

Vidura then gave his wise counsel. “Yudhishthira, it is true that you are suffering very great hardship because of the Kauravas. But one should wait for the right time. Until that proper time comes, one must forgive others and make one’s own ground strong. The man who can do this has the power to become lord of the earth.”

Yudhishthira replied, “We place this command of yours upon our heads, great soul. But I have one worry in my mind. Today we have been driven from the kingdom. We have lost our wealth and live like beggars. Many Brahmins and sages love us and remain with us. But in this friendless life, will even these true helpers leave us and go away? They especially know the nature of the forest, the weather, and all these conditions.”

Vidura said, “Dharmaraja, whatever wealth is now yours, do not think of it as yours alone. Share it with all your helpers. That is the duty of a king. Then, then they too will learn to share your sorrow. Do not speak useless words, and do not praise yourself before others. Only a king of such nature can prosper. And his followers do not leave him either.”

Yudhishthira bowed again. “Righteous one, every word of the advice you have given is true. I will follow these teachings exactly.”

Vidura blessed him. “May you win glory, O King. May great good come to you.”

After sending Vidura away, Dhritarashtra understood that he would go to Yudhishthira in the Kamyaka forest, and he began to suffer with regret. Vidura had endless knowledge of peace, war, kingship, and dharma. The thought that he would freely give that knowledge to Yudhishthira, and that the Pandavas would greatly benefit from it, began to trouble him deeply.

Besides, without Vidura always by his side, Dhritarashtra burned in terrible mental pain and regret. He could not focus on anything. He had almost given up food and sleep. Day and night he thought only of Vidura, and then one day a terrible event took place.

The men of the court cried out in alarm.

Was the old king still alive?

Hours of fear and anxious waiting came upon Hastinapura.