The Stranger - Excellence

This is part of my ongoing series on the Mahabharat, an epic poem of ancient India. For links to all previous Mahabharat posts go here. Or you can simply click on the Mahabharat page link above.


This is the fouth part of The Stranger series. Click for the first, second, and third parts.


Since Drona took over the official role of guru to the princes, the boys began to sleep in the school boarding house as they were meant to, going home only on holidays and special occasions.

Each day Drona let the boys have an hour of free time and usually they would grab a ball and run outside. Arjuna joined in - he loved to play games - but then one day he saw that as the princes were playing, Guru Drona was sitting with his son, Ashwathama, on the far side of the teacher's hut. They were both bent over a diagram that Drona was drawing on the ground.

Arjuna left the shouting and laughing princes and drifted over the field towards his teacher.

"What are you doing, Gurudev?"

Drona looked up as Arjuna drew closer. "I'm teaching Ashwathama a formula."

"May I learn it too?"

Drona looked at him in puzzlement. "Don't you want to play with the others, Arjuna?"

"Not when you're teaching."

Drona tilted his head as he studied Arjuna. "Then you may sit and learn this too." He shifted to make room for the prince and Arjuna sat down. "This," Drona told both boys, pointing to the complicated circular diagram he'd drawn in the dirt with a stick, "is called the chakravyu formation. It's a very difficult strategy of war and is in fact a military secret..."

That night Arjuna couldn't sleep. He kept thinking of all the things Drona had taught him that day and in the days before. Arjuna wanted to know everything Drona did. He wanted to be a great warrior because then Arjuna could protect his family and his nation. It was his duty to Hastinapur and to his brother Yudhistira who he knew was destined to be king.

As Arjuna lay in the dark thinking of these things he heard Bhima roll out of bed. Bhima crept out of the room and Arjuna listened, thinking his brother was going out to relieve himself. But after a few minutes Bhima did not return. Frowning, Arjuna got up and followed.

It was pitch dark in the boarding house and throughout the school grounds. Arjuna's eyesight had always been good at night but it was so dark he put his hands out in front of him and felt for the wall to guide him.

The hush of sleeping air was all around as he tried to figure out where Bhima had gone. Arjuna stopped and listened, straining for any sound.

There! A small, quiet scraping sound was coming from the direction of the kitchen.

Trust Bhima to be eating at this hour, Arjuna thought, suddenly grinning to himself.

Now that he knew where Bhima was Arjuna's steps were more confident as he walked through the dark. He came towards the kitchen but was surprised that there was no lamp lit. He couldn't hear anything either.

"Bhima?" Arjuna whispered.

There was a pause.

"Arjuna?" came a whisper back, the sound muffled as if his mouth was full.

Arjuna stepped inside. "Where are you?"

"Over here."

Straining to see in the dark, Arjuna made out the shadow that was Bhima sitting on the floor in the far corner. He haltingly went towards him. "What are you doing here so late?"

"I'm hungry."

Arjuna sat down beside Bhima on the cold stone floor. "But why are you eating in the dark?"

"Can't light a lamp. That would wake Gurudev."

That was true. Their mother Kunti had told them them that a perfect disciple never did anything that caused discomfort or unrest to the guru. Instead, a disciple should arise before the guru did and lay down only after the guru had gone to sleep and spend the whole day eager to fulfill the guru's instructions. That was how she had served her spiritual master and how she expected her sons to serve Guru Drona and Guru Kripa.

"Do you want some? It's the rice from earlier," Bhima said, magnanimously offering some of his precious food.

"No, thank you," Arjuna said.

They sat in the darkness as Bhima demolished the food before him.

"How are you doing that?" Arjuna finally whispered.

"Doing what?" Bhima said after gulping some water.

"Eating in the dark. How does your hand reach your mouth if you can't see anything?"

Bhima quietly chuckled. "It's called 'practice', little brother. Practice."

Arjuna was struck. "Practice..."

His belly full, Bhima stood up. "I'm tired now. Let's go to sleep."

"You go on," Arjuna said. "I'll be there soon." He felt Bhima shrug and turn to go.

Alone, Arjuna contemplated the idea of learning to do something in the dark. Practice, he thought. Practice is the key.

Quietly, he went back outside and over the playing ground to the arms shed. By feel, he found his bow and quiver and took them outside to the practice field, where there were round targets stuffed tightly with hay.

Since he couldn't see anything he calculated the distance by counting footsteps. He set an arrow on his bow and took aim. He missed the first couple of shots, straining in the dark to see the target. Then he decided to close his eyes and see with his mind.

His next shot hit hay. He went up to it and felt around to see how accurate he'd been. It was pretty close to the center.

He counted his footsteps back again and continued. The small hours of the night came and trickled away.

An hour before dawn, Drona came into the courtyard and spotted Arjuna shooting at the target in the faintest of pre-dawn light. "What are you doing?"

Arjuna jumped. He turned, looking stricken. "I'm sorry to wake you, Gurudev. Please forgive me." He shouldered his weapon and bowed with his palms folded.

Drona walked up to him, his muscled body huge and shadowed in the pre-dawn air. "You didn't wake me, son. But what are you doing? Why are you out here?"

Arjuna lifted his quiver that was nearly empty. Then he squared his shoulders and confessed. "I'm practicing my archery."

Drona shook his head. "But why in the dark of night? You can do your shooting during the day."

"Brother Bhima told me that if I practiced enough, I could have perfect aim even in the dark."

Drona stood in silence as he absorbed Arjuna's words. He looked from Arjuna to the target that was slowly becoming more visible as the light crept over the horizon. Arrows were embedded in it's thick body.

"You have a quality within you," Drona suddenly said, "that my other disciples have not. You have excellence." A slight smile marked his mouth as he looked back down at Arjuna. "Do not doubt it, son. You will be a great archer. In fact, I promise you here and now that I will make you the greatest archer in the world."

Arjuna's lips parted in surprised. "You will?"

"Oh yes. I've been planning on it. Now I'm determined. You will be the greatest archer this world has ever seen."

Arjuna bowed his head again, humbled by his teacher's faith in him. "Thank you, Gurudev."


Arjuna wasn't like the other students in his school because he didn't just accept what he was given. He wanted more. He was thirsty for knowledge. He capitalised on every opportunity to learn. He even created his own lessons. He moved from good to excellent because he pushed himself to heights the others did not.

Raw talent is always a good start but excellence comes from dedication. And hard work. And endless practice.

If you want to be good at something, you should be determined to be good at it in all conditions. In the light and in the dark. In good weather and in bad. With the right equiptment or with nothing but what you can put together in a makeshift fashion.

Whether you're a writer, an athlete, a mathematician, a soldier, a businessman, a housekeeper, a farm worker, a sailor, a politician, a carpenter - practice and dedication are the keys to excellence in your field.

I'm always amused when I hear of cooks who are celebrated in high circles but still have to taste their food as they cook it. A truly good cook never needs to taste his food because he KNOWS how it tastes already. In his mind he has already calculated the distances, and measured the factors. He is Arjuna, shooting in the dark and hitting his target every time. My mother is a cook like that. She never tastes her food before serving it and yet it's always perfect. This is because she has excellence.

Are you excellent at what you do? Do you need to taste your own cooking? Do you write something and post it on your blog utterly sure of it's power to reach others? Do you complete a day's work and know that everything you did in that day was correct?

Do you always hit your mark?

If not then you know the answer. Be dedicated. Be determined. And practice.


Click here for the last Mahabharat post entitled The Stranger - Crocodile in the Water.

Click here for the next Mahabharat post entitled The Stranger - Unknown Disciple.