Choices

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.


You're not going to believe this. I actually have a written post for you today. I know! Take a moment to gasp in disbelief. Pinch yourself to check this isn't a dream. Now pinch yourself again to check that this isn't an Inception-like dream within a dream.

But yes. I have something for you to read.

It's as if I'm a real writer. Now I have to pinch myself to make sure this isn't a dream. And pinch myself again to check that this isn't an Inception-like dream within a dream. Where's my totem?

I've had the idea for this post in my head for weeks. I've been struggling with it because it's significance has been striking me every day with all these political horrors around us. I wondered if I should post it at all because it's just so close to home.

But I decided that I had to because to tell you so many of the Mahabharat's messages and yet leave this out wouldn't be fair.

So here goes:


When it became clear that there would be war, both the Pandavas and Kauravas took count of their allies. They asked their friends, their acquaintances, and especially their family members - where they loyalites lay. Everyone in the land was asked to declare, whether for the Pandava camp or the Kaurava camp.

Duryodhan wasted no time in going to Dwarka. He reached the palace and due to the close family relations between them - Krishna's son was married to Duryodhan's daughter - he was admitted into Krishna's private chambers.

Krishna was sleeping, lying peacefully on his bed during the hot afternoon hours.

Gritting his teeth with impatience, Duryodhan sat in a chair near Krishna's head.

He waited. And waited.

It was as he was waiting that someone else entered the chamber. It was Arjuna, one of the Pandavas.

Duryodhan glared at him, knowing that Arjuna was here to do what he himself was trying to.

Arjuna didn't sit down. Instead, he moved to stand at the foot of Krishna's bed with his palms folded. He didn't bother looking Duryodhan's way after the initial meeting of their gazes.

Krishna stirred.

Duryodhan shifted in his seat, hoping the noise would wake Krishna.

Arjuna made no noise, nor did he move from his position at Krishna's feet.

Suddenly, Krishna sat up. He looked to the foot of his bed. "Arjuna?" He broke into a smile. "When did you get here?"

"I got here first," Duryodhan growled.

Krishna turned his head and took in Duryodhan's form. "Ah. So you're here too."

"Yes."

"But I saw Arjuna first."

"So?" Duryodhan crossed his arms. "I got here first. I was waiting for a long time before Arjuna arrived."

Arjuna cleared his throat. "He was here before me, Krishna."

Krishna arched a brow at Arjuna but addressed Duryodhan. "Then to what do I owe this honour?"

Duryodhan remembered the role he was supposed to be playing. He fabricated a conciliatory look, a non-threatening half smile on his face. "As you know there is to be a war between the Pandavas and the Kauravas." He took care to gentle his voice. "I came here to Dwarka to ask for your aid, Krishna." He raised his hands in a gesture of openness. "We are, after all, family."

"That we are," Krishna nodded. "Just as the Pandavas are my family." He swung his legs off the bed and stood. "I presume that this is also why you are here, Arjuna?"

"Yes, Krishna."

Krishna looked from Arjuna to Duryodhan and back to Arjuna again. Then he turned from both of them and walked to his window. Pulling the drapes aside, he allowed light to flood the room. "You have come to me for aid. I am honour bound to help you both."

"How is that possible?" Duryodhan demanded to know. "You can't fight on both sides."

"I didn't say that I would fight on either," Krishna said, his powerful body silhouetted by the light streaming through the window.

This so startled Duryodhan that he looked at Arjuna, who looked back, equally baffled.

"I will give you a choice," Krishna said and they both snapped their gazes back to him. "To one side I will give my army. My vast, undefeated army. And to the other side I will give myself, alone, unarmed, for I will not lift weapons in this war. Consider carefully which of these choices you make.

Duryodhan stood and moved towards Krishna. "Obviously I should be given first choice because I was here first."

"No," Krishna said, still looking out the window. "Obviously Arjuna should be given first choice because he is your younger brother."

Duryodhan opened his mouth to reject this but Krishna turned from the window to face him. His expression became shadowed with his back to the light and Duryodhan squinted to make him out.

"In that gambling hall," Krishna said, his deep voice emanating from his silhouetted form, "did Yudhistira not allow you the first throw of the dice because you were his younger brother?"

Duryodhan had no reply.

"The younger sibling's wishes are always granted first," Krishna said. "And now, as the elder, it should be your joy to give your younger brother what he wants."

Stepping away from the window, Krishna suddenly came into focus. "So, Arjuna. What is your decision? Will it be my army or my unarmed self?"

Arjuna's eyes were clear and calm. "I choose you, Krishna."

Duryodhan stood there with his mouth agape, unable to believe his good luck. What a fool Arjuna was!

Krishna clasped his hands behind his back. "Even though I am alone and unarmed? I won't fight in this war, you know. I will have no army behind me."

Arjuna shook his head. "I don't need my Lord's army. I need my Lord."

Krishna smiled. He went forward and took hold of Arjuna's folded palms.

"I will do the fighting, Krishna," Arjuna said. "All I need is for you to be by my side."

Duryodhan was still reeling but he knew he had to pull himself together. Quickly, he smoothed his expression into one of sadness, turning his lips down and lowering his gaze. He sighed heavily. "Well, if that is what Arjuna wants then I suppose I'll have to take the army. After all, I can't break my younger brother's heart."

"No," Krishna said, letting go of Arjuna's hands. "Of course you wouldn't want to do that."

"I'll take my leave then, Krishna," Duryodhan said. "Send me a list of your commanders and I'll see that they recieve instructions."

"It shall be done," Krishna said.

On his way out, Duryodhan allowed a grin to spread across his face.


For some reason there is this understanding in western thought that bad people are Godless. That they don't pray or even think to. But they do pray. Of course they do. Do you think the Nazis didn't pray? That they didn't ask God for help?

And what do you think God does in these situations, when bad people ask him for aid?

It is written in practically every holy scripture this world has that when we ask for the Lord's help he gives it. There is no stipulation that the person asking must be morally unimpeachable. Because if that were true then we'd all be in a lot of trouble.

No. The scriptures say that if we ask for help then the Lord is honour bound to provide aid. He must.

The Mahabharat also states that this is true. Both the Pandavas and the Kauravas went to Krishna. Both wanted help.

The difference is that one side wanted the Lord while the other side wanted only the Lord's power. One side asked with love. The other side asked with greed.

This is the difference between good people and bad. And this why no matter how much power the Lord bestows on bad people, they always lose. The Nazis were winning WWII for most of the years it was being fought. Then all of a sudden, they lost. Why? They'd been preparing for victory for the past decade. They had more weapons, more strategy, more scientists, more planes, more tanks, more bombs. They had resources from all the lands they'd annexed before the war. They had an indoctrinated army, totally brainwashed into believing their cause was right. They had spies in every country around the world, ferreting out the weaknesses of all their enemies. They were determined to win and they had the means to do it.

So why did they lose?

They lost because they were like Duryodhan. They wanted God's army but they didn't want God. They fought with hate, not love. They sought to dominate the world, not protect it.

This is why good people must never lose hope. There will be times when it seems like evil has all the power, all the advantages. But the one advantage necessary for victory - love - is not in their armoury. This fundamental weakness will be their downfall. Like when the British were defeated in India's Independence struggle. Or when the Russians lost the cold war. Or when America's war in Vietnam ended in failure.

Arjuna said: "I don't need my Lord's army. I need my Lord."

This is the way to victory.

Go here for the next Mahabharat post entitled Yuyutsu - Of Conscience.

Go here for last weeks Mahabharat post.