[[Mohan K.V 2016-10-02, 08:00:38 Source]]
सदास्वादः
89
ಹಲವು ಮಾತೇನಖಿಳ ಜನಕೆ-
-ನ್ನುಳಿವು ಸೊಗಸದು. ಕೌರವೇಶ್ವರ
ನೊಲುಮೆ ತಪ್ಪಿಸಿ ಭುವನದೊಳಗೆನಗಾಪ್ತ ಜನವಿಲ್ಲ .
halavu mātu ēnu akhiḷa janake
enna uḷivu sogasadu. kauravēśvarana
olume tappisi bhuvanada oḷage enage āpta jana illa .
Meaning
“What more is there to say? My living doesn’t please anyone. Except for Duryodhana’s friendship, there is nothing in his world that I can call mine.”
Context
We continue from the last chapter on the Kannada epic Kumāravyāsa-bhārata (formally the Karṇāṭa-bhārata-kathāmañjarī). Krishna has just told Karṇa the secret of his birth. Karṇa is reeling from the shock: his mortal enemies have been revealed to be his brothers, and his visceral, almost existential drive to kill them for Duryodhana’s sake has suddenly been thwarted. His first thoughts on hearing the revelation were for Duryodhana’s welfare, not his own. He continues, lost in his own thoughts as Krishna looks on:
“ಕಾದಿ ಕೊಲುವೊಡೆ ಪಾಂಡು-ಸುತರು
ಸಹೋದರರು. ಕೊಲಲಿಲ್ಲ, ಕೊಲ್ಲದೆ
ಕಾದೆನಾದೊಡೆ ಕೌರವಂಗವನಿಯಲಿ ಹೊಗಲಿಲ್ಲ.
ಭೇದದಲಿ ಹೊಕ್ಕಿರಿದನೋ ಮಧು-
-ಸೂದನಕಟಕಟೆನುತ” ಘನ
ಚಿಂತೋದಧಿಯಲದ್ದವೊಲು ಮೌನದೊಳಿದ್ದನಾ ಕರ್ಣ 12
“kādi koluva oḍe pāṇḍu-sutaru
sahōdararu. kolalilla, kollade
kādenāda oḍe kauravange avaniyali hogalu illa.
bhēdadali hokki iridanō madhu-
-sūdana akaṭa akaṭa" enuta ghana
cinta-udadhiyali adda volu maunadoḷu iddanu ā karṇa
“If I were to think of fighting and killing them, they are my very brothers.
If I fight and don’t kill them, Duryodhana has no place to shine.
What an impossible decision Krishna has placed me in! Alas!” –
Thus, as if drowning in an ocean of worry, Karṇa remained silent.
Krishna breaks the silence, and innocently asks:
“ಏನು ಹೇಳೈ ಕರ್ಣ ಚಿತ್ತ-
-ಗ್ಲಾನಿ ಯಾವುದು ಮನಕೆ ಕುಂತೀ-
-ಸೂನುಗಳ ಬೆಸಕೈಸಿ ಕೊಂಬುದು ಸೇರದೇ ನಿನಗೆ ?
ಹಾನಿಯಿಲ್ಲೆನ್ನಾಣೆ ನುಡಿ ನುಡಿ
ಮೌನವೇತಕೆ ಮರುಳುತನ ಬೇ-
ಡಾನು ನಿನ್ನಪದೆಸೆಯ ಬಯಸುವನಲ್ಲ” ಕೇಳೆಂದ 13
“ēnu hēḷai karṇa citta-
-glāni yāvudu manake kuntī-
-sūnugaḷa besakaisi kombudu sēradē ninage ?
hāni illa enna āṇe nuḍi nuḍi
maunavu ētake maruḷutana bēḍa
ānu ninna apadeseya bayasuvanu alla kēḷu" enda
“What do you say, Karṇa? Why do you seem worried?
Don’t you want to ally with the Pāṇḍavas?
Don’t be afraid, speak your mind.
Why this silence? There is no need to be confused.
I will never wish you harm, ask me anything you want”
Krishna acts as if he has no idea what is bothering Karṇa, and asks if there’s some personal harm he sees in the deal. This comes a rude jolt to Karṇa, who had only his friendship with Duryodhana in mind. He is especially roused by the word ‘maruḷu’, ‘confused’ or ‘foolish’. He retorts:
“ಮರುಳು ಮಾಧವ ಮಹಿಯ ರಾಜ್ಯದ
ಸಿರಿಗೆ ಸೋಲುವನಲ್ಲ. ಕೌಂತೇ-
ಯರು ಸುಯೋಧನರೆನಗೆ ಬೆಸಕೈವಲ್ಲಿ ಮನವಿಲ್ಲ.
ಹೊರೆದ ದಾತಾರಂಗೆ ಹಗೆವರ
ಶಿರವನರಿದೊಪ್ಪಿಸುವೆನೆಂಬೀ
ಭರದೊಳಿರ್ದೆನು ಕೌರವೇಂದ್ರನ ಕೊಂದೆ ನೀನು” ಎಂದ 14
“maruḷu mādhava mahiya rājyada
sirige sōluvanu alla. kauntēyaru
suyōdhanaru enage besakaivalli manavu illa.
horeda dātārange hagevara
śiravanu aridu oppisuvenu eṃba ī
bharadoḷu irdenu kauravēndrana konde” nīnu enda
“Confused?! Mādhava, I will not be swayed by the riches of the entire world.
I have no wish to broker an alliance between the Pāṇḍavas and Duryodhana.
I was of one mind to tear down the heads of the enemies of the man who held me up:
And now, you have killed him.”
Karṇa’s conviction shakes the entire scene. None of Krishna’s enticements – of servants of two clans, of vassals circling around him, or fame beyond imagination – none of them seem to even have broken the skin of Karṇa’s loyalty. Note the respect accorded to Duryodhana: ‘horeda dātāra’ lit. ‘the giver who held me up’. He continues:
ಒಡನೆ ಹುಟ್ಟಿದೆವೆಂಬ ಕಥನವ
ನೆಡೆಗುಡದೆ ಬಣ್ಣಿಸಿದೆ ಪಾಂಡವ
ರಗಡು ಬಾಣಕೆ ಬಲಿಯನಿಕ್ಕುವ ಹದನ ಮಾಣಿಸಿದೆ
ನುಡಿದು ಫಲವೇನಿನ್ನು ಕೇಳೆ
ನ್ನೊಡೆಯನಾದಂತಹೆನು. ಬಾರೆನು.
ಪೊಡವಿಯಲಿ ನೀ ಹರಹಿಕೊಳು ನಿನ್ನವರ ನಿಲಿಸೆಂದ 15
“oḍane huṭṭidevu eṃba kathanavanu
eḍe kuḍade baṇṇiside pānḍavaru
agaḍu bāṇake baliyanu ikkuva hadana māṇiside
nuḍidu phalavu ēnu innu kēḷu
enna oḍeyanu ādante ahenu. bārenu.
poḍaviyali nī harahikoḷu ninnavara nilisu” eṃda
“You told me the tale of how the Pāṇḍavas are my brothers with no hesitation,
And now my will to kill them with my wild arrows is lost.
What is the point of speaking more?
Whatever happens to my master (Duryodhana) will happen to me.
I will not come [with you].
Go, spread out your people in the forest (the Pāṇḍavas) and prop them up as you please.”
The first ‘Bhīṣma’ moment in the Mahābhārata occurred when Devavrata vowed lifelong celibacy, in order to ward off Satyavatī’s father’s concerns that Devavrata’s future children might usurp the throne. The gods themselves were shocked at this demonstration of self-control and disregard for worldly riches, and applauded shouting, ‘Bhīṣma! Bhīṣma!’ ‘We fear you!’.
This moment, when Karṇa simply says one word, ‘Bārenu’ ‘I will not come [with you]’ is perhaps an even stronger ‘Bhīṣma’ moment. Arguably, what Devavrata sacrificed was merely one future possibility among several, and one that would only impact potential future generations. What if he never turned out to have children anyway, a state all too common among our epic kings? His oath would have made no difference. In any case, oath or not, he still would be the most powerful man in the kingdom, and his personal stature and comforts only increased because of his actions. His father even granted him one of the greatest boons a mortal could ask for: death at the time of his choice, a boon that takes away all elements of the unknown from death, and hence, all elements of fear. What difference is there between a man who doesn’t fear death and an immortal?
In contrast, Karṇa had the opportunity to rise from a side character in Duroydhana’s retinue to becoming the uncontested emperor of the world. There was no uncertainty in this choice: Krishna himself would make it happen if only he said yes. The only loser would be Duryodhana.
To such impossibly tempting odds, Karṇa says no. That the gods did not notice this probably says all we need to know about their judgment.
The scene reminds us of an observation by Churchill: “The world looks with some awe upon a man who appears unconcernedly indifferent to home, money, comfort, rank, or even power and fame. The world feels not without a certain apprehension, that here is someone outside its jurisdiction; someone before whom its allurements may be spread in vain; someone strangely enfranchised, untamed, untrammelled by convention, moving independent of the ordinary currents of human action.”
His decision made, Karṇa lets loose the turmoil in his emotions. First, rage:
ವೀರ ಕೌರವರಾಯನೇ ದಾ-
-ತಾರನಾತನ ಹಗೆಯೆ ಹಗೆ ಕೈ-
-ವಾರವೇ ಕೈವಾರವಾದಂತಹೆನು ಕುರುನೃಪತಿ .
ಶೌರಿ ಕೇಳೈ ನಾಳೆ ಸಮರದ
ಸಾರದಲಿ ತೋರುವೆನು ನಿಜ-ಭುಜ-
-ಶೌರಿಯದ ಸಂಪನ್ನ-ತನವನು ಪಾಂಡು-ತನಯರಲಿ 16
vīra kaurava rāyanē
dātāranu ātana hageye hage
kaivāravē kaivāravu ādante ahenu kuru-nṛpati .
śauri kēḷai nāḷe samarada
sāradali tōruvenu nija-bhuja-
-śauriyada saṃpanna-tanavanu pāṃḍu-tanayarali
“The mighty Duryodhana is my provider.
His enemy is my enemy.
What he admires is what I admire. What happens to him happens to me.
Krishna, listen. In the battle tomorrow,
I will show the Pāṇḍavas the power of my arms”
Next, self-image and its close attendant, love:
“ಹಲವು ಮಾತೇನಖಿಳ ಜನಕೆ-
-ನ್ನುಳಿವು ಸೊಗಸದು. ಕೌರವೇಶ್ವರ
ನೊಲುಮೆ ತಪ್ಪಿಸಿ ಭುವನದೊಳಗೆನಗಾಪ್ತ ಜನವಿಲ್ಲ .
ಸಲಹಿದನು ಮನ್ನಣೆಯಲೆನಗ
ಗ್ಗಳಿಕೆಯಲ್ಲದೆ ಹೀನ ವೃತ್ತಿಯ
ಬಳಸಿ ನಡೆಸನು ಕೌರವೇಂದ್ರನನೆಂತು ಮರೆದಪೆನು” 17
“halavu mātu ēnu akhiḷa janake
enna uḷivu sogasadu kauravēśvarana
olume tappisi bhuvanada oḷage enage āpta jana illa .
salahidanu mannaṇeyali enage
aggaḷikeyu allade hīna vṛttiya
baḷasi naḍesanu kauravēṃdrananu entu maredapenu”
“What more is there to say?
My living doesn’t please anyone.
Except for Duryodhana’s friendship, there is nothing in his world that I can call mine.”
He always treated me with respect.
Never once did he consider me an inferior.
He trusted me always – how can I forget him [and agree with your plan]?”
This verse taps at the very root of Karṇa’s character. “My living doesn’t please anyone” – this has been Karṇa’s state since the beginning. His mother conceived him on a whim, and promptly abandoned him right afterward. The mighty son of Sūrya brought up as a charioteer’s son, his instincts rebelled against his circumstances every day. Some deep part of him recognized this, and accepted it as simply the nature of the world.
And then, the tournament with the Pāṇḍavas happened. Duryodhana single-handedly lifted him from obscurity, and made him the man that he is. It is a poignant observation that he has nobody in the world to call his own other than Duryodhana. Indeed, this view is so deeply rooted in his mind that Karṇa even projects it onto others. His acute sense of isolation is what makes him value the idea of brotherhood, family and friendship so much. If the character of Karṇa was swapped with that of Duryodhana or any of the Pāṇḍavas in this scene, we think they would immediately have accepted Krishna’s deal – the connection to another person would simply have not meant as much to them. The only possible exception would have been Arjuna, who intensely valued family for other reasons. Of course, Krishna would easily have convinced him. We wonder what that Gīta would be like then!
Coming back to the verse now, the second half is a reminiscence that contradicts all of Krishna’s unsavory predictions. Krishna had painted vivid pictures of Karṇa in servility to Duryodhana, but none of them seemed to have the slightest effect. Karṇa continues:
ನೋಡಿ ದಣಿಯನು ಬಿರುದ ಹೊಗಳಿಸಿ
ಹಾಡಿ ದಣಿಯನು ನಿಚ್ಚಲುಚಿತವ
ಮಾಡಿ ತಣಿಯನು ಮಾನನಿಧಿಯನದೆಂತು ಮರೆದಪೆನು .
ಕಾಡಲಾಗದು ಕೃಷ್ಣ ಖಾತಿಯ
ಮಾಡಲಾಗದು ಬಂದೆನಾದೊಡೆ
ರೂಢಿ ಮೆಚ್ಚದು ಕೌರವನ ಹಗೆ ಹರಿಬ ತನಗೆಂದ 18
“nōḍi daṇiyanu biruda hogaḷisi
hāḍi daṇiyanu niccalu ucitava
māḍi taṇiyanu māna-nidhiyanu adentu maredapenu .
kāḍalu āgadu kṛṣṇa khātiya
māḍalu āgadu bandenu ādoḍe
rūḍhi meccadu kauravana hage hariba tanage” enda
“He never tired of seeing me.
Never tired of having my laurels heralded.
Never stopped helping me – I can never turn my back to him.
Do not try to convince me otherwise, Krishna, and do not be angry at me;
[If I agree], the world would look down upon me, [and what is worse, I cannot imagine] Duryodhana’s enmity!”
ಮಾರಿಗೌತಣವಾಯ್ತು ನಾಳಿನ
ಭಾರತವು ಚತುರಂಗ ಬಲದಲಿ
ಕೌರವನ ಋಣ ಹಿಂಗೆ ರಣದಲಿ ಸುಭಟ ಕೋಟಿಯನು
ತೀರಿಸಿಯೆ ಪತಿಯವಸರಕ್ಕೆ ಶ-
-ರೀರವನು ನೂಕುವೆನು ನಿನ್ನಯ
ವೀರರೈವರ ನೋಯಿಸೆನು ರಾಜೀವ-ಸಖನಾಣೆ 20
mārige autaṇavu āytu nāḷina
bhāratavu caturanga baladali
kauravana ṛṇa hinge raṇadali subhaṭa kōṭiyanu
tīrisiye pati avasarakke
śarīravanu nūkuvenu ninnaya
vīrara aivara nōyisenu rājīva-sakhana āṇe
“The war tomorrow will be a feast for Death.
I will pay my debt to Duryodhana by fighting your hordes till my own death.
But I will spare your five mighty warriors: this is my promise.”
The poet can’t help inserting a snide remark about ‘your five mighty warriors’. ‘mitraraivara’, ‘neṇṭaraivara’, ‘makkaḷaivara’ – all of these would have worked, but he deliberately chose vīraraivara.
Krishna has been silently listening to all this, and finally responds:
ಎನಲು ಕರ್ಣನ ದೃಢವ ಕಂಡನು
ಮನದೊಳ್ ಉತ್ಸಾಹಿಸಿದನಾದೊಡೆ
“ತನಯರೈವರ ಹದನು ನಿನ್ನದು ಬಲುಹ ಮಾಡುವೊಡೆ .
ಮನಕೆ ಖತಿಯಹುದರುಹದಿರ್ದೊಡೆ
ತನಗೆ ಗುಣವಲ್ಲೆಂಬ ಕಾರಣ
ವಿನಿತನೊಡ್ಡೈಸಿದೆನು ನೀ ಸುಖಿಯಾಗು” ಹೋಗೆಂದ 21
enalu karṇana dṛḍhava kanḍanu
manadoḷu utsāhisidanu āda oḍe
“tanayara aivara hadanu ninnadu baluha māḍuva oḍe .
manake khati ahudu aruhade irda oḍe
tanage guṇavu alla eṃba kāraṇavu
initanu oḍḍaisidenu nī sukhi āgu hōgu" enda
“Krishna saw Karṇa’s strength of conviction,
and was pleased. He said aloud,
“The welfare of your brothers is in your hands.
If I force you to come with me, you will feel hurt.
If I didn’t tell you the truth, it would be remiss on my part.
Whatever you do, I wish you well””
Why was Krishna pleased? Was it because of Karṇa’s firmness? Or was it because his ploy worked as designed?
“ಬಂದರೊಳ್ಳಿತು ಬಾರದಿದ್ದೊಡೆ
ಕಂದ ಕೇಳೈ ಮಧುರ ವಚನದಿ
ಮಂದ-ಮತಿಯನು ತಿಳುಹಿ ತಮ್ಮಂದಿರಿಗೆ ರಾಜ್ಯವನು .
ಇಂದು ಕೊಡಿಸುವುದುಚಿತ ಸಂಪ್ರತಿ-
-ಗಿಂದು ಸೇರಿಸು ನಿನ್ನ ಮಾತನು
ಹಿಂದುಗಳೆಯನು ಕೌರವೇಶ್ವರ” ನೆಂದನಸುರಾರಿ 22
“bandare oḷḷitu bārade idda oḍe
kanda kēḷai madhura-vacanadi
manda-matiyanu tiḷuhi tammandirige rājyavanu .
indu koḍisuvudu ucita saṃpratige
indu sērisu ninna mātanu
hindu-gaḷeyanu kauravēśvaranu” endanu asurāri
“If you come with me, good. If not,
My son, please try to convince that fool (Duryodhana) with sweet words,
and offer something to your brothers. The elders have tried, and it would befit you to add your voice to the chorus.
Duryodhana will not disregard your suggestion.”
The best salesmen never push: they just set the scene and let the customer do himself in. Consider this ‘sale’: Krishna had set it up so that he would ‘win’ no matter what. If Karṇa acquiesced and agreed to come with him, he would forever have been a pawn. Duryodhana would no longer have been his friend, and Karṇa would have been forced to seek Krishna’s help at every turn. If on the other hand Karṇa was made of stronger stuff and refused, the same moral fiber that made him refuse would prevent any threat to the Pāṇḍavas. Before Krishna made this move, the only other person who could have done so would be Kuntī, and she was too afraid to do so. Krishna can rightly say that his hand was forced to find any means possible to avoid war. There is no outcome in which Krishna loses in this scenario, and no outcome in which Karṇa wins. Karṇa abided by some principles, and the fact that he was unwilling to compromise on them was used to ruthlessly engineer a situation where he could not win.
Later on, Krishna shares the dialogue with Kuntī, and asks her to talk to Karṇa as well. She sees an opportunity to make amends, and goes to him. She repeats Krishna’s suggestion, and Karṇa has the same reply:
“ಇಂದು ನೀವರುಹಿದ ಬಳಿಕ ರವಿ
ನಂದನನು ಎಂದರಿದೆನಲ್ಲದೆ
ಹಿಂದೆ ದುರಿಯೋಧನನದಾವುದ ನೋಡಿ ಸಲಹಿದನು?
ಬಂದು ಪಾಂಡವರೊಡನೆ ಕೂಡಿದ
ರಿಂದು ನಗದೇ ಲೋಕವಂತಿರ-
-ಲಿಂದು ನಿಮ್ಮಡಿ ಬಂದ ಕಾರ್ಯವ ಬೆಸಸಿ ನೀವೆಂದ” 34
“indu nīvu aruhida baḷika ravi-
-nandananu endu aridenu allade
hinde duriyōdhananu adu āvuda nōḍi salahidanu?
bandu pānḍavara oḍane kūḍidare
indu nagadē lōkavu antu iralu
indu nimma aḍi banda kāryava besasi nīvu” enda
“Because you told me today, I came to know that I am the son of Sūrya [and all the greatness that comes with it].
[And yet], what did Duryodhana see in me when he took me under his wing?
Will the world not laugh if I entertain this offer to join the Pāṇḍavas now?
Please: command me, why your highness came here today?”
There is a particular kind of idealism here that is arresting. From the perspective of practical utility, this looks foolish and backward. But from a different perspective of internal justice and self-image, which is probably more compelling ‘utility’ on its own, it is perceptive and valuable.
In his Theory of Justice, the philosopher John Rawls talks of using a ‘veil of ignorance’ when evaluating whether an action or rule is just. In a given situation, Rawls asks, what course of action would one choose if one did not know who one would be, and what qualities one would possess? For example, if one was told that one would be present in a courtroom, but not told whether as a plaintiff or defendant, wealthy or poor, educated or not, what kind of rules would one pick for the courtroom?
There is a similar ‘Rawlsian veil’ at play in Karṇa’s thinking here. Duryodhana accepted him knowing nothing at all about him except what he saw at face value. From a perspective of fairness and justice, that action is impossible to top. In contrast, Krishna and Kuntī did not even care to talk to him till the Pāṇḍavas came to be at risk. It seems that even motherhood is a negotiation.
Karṇa’s curt reply sums up a lifetime of anger: nimmaḍi banda kāryava besasi’ lit. ‘For what work did your feet come, please command me?’. Using ‘your feet’ is a kind of honorific, but here clearly used with biting sarcasm. ‘Banda kārya’ automatically (and correctly) assumes that there is some goal that is sought, and ‘besasi’ implies a command. That these were among the first words of a son to his mother – what a chilling thought!
Kuntī proceeds to ask for two wishes: that Karṇa spare ‘her five sons’ and to never re-use a weapon. The latter is a ploy taught by Krishna, who knew the kind of weapons Karṇa had received from his guru Paraśurāma and knew that there would be situations where they had to be re-used to be effective. The magnanimous Karṇa says yes to both: five of Kuntī’s sons would live, and the sixth, who would die, would either be himself or Arjuna.
Parting Thought
Karṇa’s effortless disregard for worldly riches reminded us of this subhāṣita:
आशा नाम मनुष्याणां काचिद् आश्चर्य-शृंखला ।
बद्धा यया प्रधावन्ति मुक्तास् तिष्ठन्ति पङ्गुवत् ॥
āśā nāma manuṣyāṇāṃ kācid āścarya-śṛṃkhalā |
baddhā yayā pradhāvanti muktāḥ tiṣṭhanti paṅguvat ||
“Desire is a strange chain: those bound by it run and run, while those free of it sit still like the lame”
(‘Āśā’ can also be translated as ‘hope’, though the latter has many modern connotations beyond the original Sanskrit)
The choice of comparisons is apt: even when chained, a certain drive and kind of happiness is present in those who run. When free, along with the joy of freedom comes a loss of drive, that is quite as debilitating as losing a limb. Karṇa’s travails – being of single-minded determination when he was but a sidekick, but reduced to indecision and resignation when revealed that he could be emperor – are yet another illustration of the complexities of the unknowable mind.
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