Kauravas for peace, because he balks at the thought of blood? Ah, Bheema, you are the raft on which your brothers will cross over the sea of misfortune. But if you turn coward, I dread to think what will become of the others.”
Krishna saw his words went home. He saw Bheema’s eyes become red as plums at the word coward. It was as Krishna intended; it would never do if Bheema became soft at this time.
The Dark One continued, “Think back, Bheema! Remember the shame of the game of dice; remember the long anguish of exile. Remember you are a kshatriya and the men you have sworn to kill are sinners. Put aside this womanliness; harden your heart against these affections.
Peace! You talk of peace, you whom peace does not suit at all. You are a kshatriya, Bheema, every fiber of you. What peace can be yours, until you kill them all? What has happened to you that you are afraid now?”
Bheema sprang up and cried, “You wrong me, Krishna! How can you accuse me of being a coward? When the war begins you will see if Bheema is afraid. Not Indra himself will save Duryodhana and his brothers, when these hands lay hold of them. Look at my hands, Krishna! Aren’t they made just for war? Look at this body!”
He was trembling. “Wild elephants shall not stand before Bheema when he takes the field with his mace! I only pitied those who would face me in battle, their families whom I will bereave. And you call me a coward?” He smote his chest and roared, so the sabha shook. “Bheema is no coward, Krishna! Never! Never!”
Krishna took his hand. “That is the Bheema we know! This is no time for softness. We are on the brink of war and you are the greatest force we have, our strongest warrior. More than on any of the others, we rely on you. If you turn to fine feelings now, what will become of the rest? Who doesn’t know that Bheema is no coward, but the bravest kshatriya on earth? I only said what I did because I want Bheema to be himself.”
He embraced his cousin. “Never fear, there will be a war. No one will stop it and you will have your revenge. I swear you will wash your shame and your anger in streams of blood. Don’t speak of peace any more. There will be no peace, but war!”
Bheema gave a growl of satisfaction and sat down. Now, Krishna turned to the third Pandava and Arjuna said, “I agree with you, Krishna. Duryodhana will never accept peace. He has gone too far down the way of sin. I feel we should not compromise Yudhishtira’s dignity while suing for peace.”
Then he smiled. “But, finally, only what you want will come to pass, my Lord. All this is just your maya! If you are determined there shall be peace between us cousins, then peace there will be; and even Duryodhana will do what you ask. But if you decide there should be war and the earth’s burden removed—as the rishis say you have—so it shall be. Whatever it is, we will walk the path you choose for us, happily.”
Krishna laughed. “Arjuna, I wish it were as simple as that. I will do my best to convince Duryodhana that we should have peace, not war; and I will not bargain with Yudhishtira’s dignity. But there is no other miracle I can work. Like you, I fear Duryodhana has gone too far down the way of evil to turn back willingly. He is hardly master of himself or his own fate, any more. He is an instrument of other sinister forces; they will not relent, even if Duryodhana wants to. But I will go to Hastinapura to clear Yudhishtira’s name with the people, because he is the noblest man alive.”
Krishna turned to Nakula, who said in his soft voice, “The thoughts of men are like the shapes of clouds in the sky, always changing. When we were in the jungle, or on our tirtha-yatra, we did not think much of a kingdom. When we first came to Virata for the ajnatavasa, we thought only of not being recognized and of our exile’s end. Now the thirteen years are over and we are thinking of nothing but the kingdom, how we can win it back.
Krishna, I
Krishna saw his words went home. He saw Bheema’s eyes become red as plums at the word coward. It was as Krishna intended; it would never do if Bheema became soft at this time.
The Dark One continued, “Think back, Bheema! Remember the shame of the game of dice; remember the long anguish of exile. Remember you are a kshatriya and the men you have sworn to kill are sinners. Put aside this womanliness; harden your heart against these affections.
Peace! You talk of peace, you whom peace does not suit at all. You are a kshatriya, Bheema, every fiber of you. What peace can be yours, until you kill them all? What has happened to you that you are afraid now?”
Bheema sprang up and cried, “You wrong me, Krishna! How can you accuse me of being a coward? When the war begins you will see if Bheema is afraid. Not Indra himself will save Duryodhana and his brothers, when these hands lay hold of them. Look at my hands, Krishna! Aren’t they made just for war? Look at this body!”
He was trembling. “Wild elephants shall not stand before Bheema when he takes the field with his mace! I only pitied those who would face me in battle, their families whom I will bereave. And you call me a coward?” He smote his chest and roared, so the sabha shook. “Bheema is no coward, Krishna! Never! Never!”
Krishna took his hand. “That is the Bheema we know! This is no time for softness. We are on the brink of war and you are the greatest force we have, our strongest warrior. More than on any of the others, we rely on you. If you turn to fine feelings now, what will become of the rest? Who doesn’t know that Bheema is no coward, but the bravest kshatriya on earth? I only said what I did because I want Bheema to be himself.”
He embraced his cousin. “Never fear, there will be a war. No one will stop it and you will have your revenge. I swear you will wash your shame and your anger in streams of blood. Don’t speak of peace any more. There will be no peace, but war!”
Bheema gave a growl of satisfaction and sat down. Now, Krishna turned to the third Pandava and Arjuna said, “I agree with you, Krishna. Duryodhana will never accept peace. He has gone too far down the way of sin. I feel we should not compromise Yudhishtira’s dignity while suing for peace.”
Then he smiled. “But, finally, only what you want will come to pass, my Lord. All this is just your maya! If you are determined there shall be peace between us cousins, then peace there will be; and even Duryodhana will do what you ask. But if you decide there should be war and the earth’s burden removed—as the rishis say you have—so it shall be. Whatever it is, we will walk the path you choose for us, happily.”
Krishna laughed. “Arjuna, I wish it were as simple as that. I will do my best to convince Duryodhana that we should have peace, not war; and I will not bargain with Yudhishtira’s dignity. But there is no other miracle I can work. Like you, I fear Duryodhana has gone too far down the way of evil to turn back willingly. He is hardly master of himself or his own fate, any more. He is an instrument of other sinister forces; they will not relent, even if Duryodhana wants to. But I will go to Hastinapura to clear Yudhishtira’s name with the people, because he is the noblest man alive.”
Krishna turned to Nakula, who said in his soft voice, “The thoughts of men are like the shapes of clouds in the sky, always changing. When we were in the jungle, or on our tirtha-yatra, we did not think much of a kingdom. When we first came to Virata for the ajnatavasa, we thought only of not being recognized and of our exile’s end. Now the thirteen years are over and we are thinking of nothing but the kingdom, how we can win it back.
Krishna, I
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