First Prahar, Margashirsha Krishna Ashtami, 3162 BCE:
“Madhav,” Dhananjay’s voice was devoid of energy. “War is not for children to be involved in. Are we doing the right thing by having Veer shoulder so much responsibility? He is a capable kid – I do not question that. But it makes me uneasy to leave him in the eye of a storm.”
“Destiny does not wait for children to grow into adults, before turning them into warriors, Parth.” Madhav did not turn to look back at Dhananjay. They were on the tail of the Samsaptakas, who were retreating southwards to lower ground. The higher ground Dhananjay had, gave him two advantages – visibility and tailwind for projectiles. “Even children become warriors when they encounter fate. Parents, of all people, must not prevent children from their destiny. As parents, we are taught to believe that our duty is to protect our children. Against harm, against evil. Against the world. And that is where we fail.”
“Is it wrong to protect our children, Madhav?” Dhananjay lit the fuse wrapped around an arrow laden with vials of yavakshaar and mounted it on his bow. An incendiary extracted from bat guano, it was an effective explosive, and produced poisonous fumes too, killing anyone that managed to survive the explosion.
“Parents must raise children, Parth; not shelter them.” Madhav pointed the direction to a catapult. Correcting for tailwind, Dhananjay took aim. Wooden targets made an incendiary-laden arrow that much more dangerous. As he took the shot, Madhav continued, “Your job is to teach your child how to identify right from wrong, not make that decision for them. You must raise them to be capable of protecting themselves. Protecting them every step of the way only leaves them vulnerable when you are not around to do it for them.”
“But Veer is only sixteen. And I was not even around to teach him all that.” Remorse washed over Dhananjay as he remembered the thirteen years he was never around to teach Veer all that he had dreamt of teaching – archery, warfare, dharma and the Rudraveena.
“But I was. Parth,” Madhav looked back at Dhananjay as an explosion resounded from ahead. “Do you know what is the hardest thing a parent has to do, when it comes to their children?” Dhananjay looked ahead to spot a ball of fire heading their way. Cannonballs wrapped in oil-soaked cloth, and then set on fire before being launched at the enemy. He had just the counter-weapon. Long ago, Gurudev had urged Dhananjay to spend more time studying chemical reactions, and properties of minerals. Wars were fought with as much brain as brawn. This particular mineral, locally called anatrun, mined from a depression in the northern region of Kemet, served as a wonderful extinguisher. When exposed to heat, it decomposed into water, and carbon-dioxide – which cut off the combustion, effectively extinguishing the fire. The arrow stored a parchment capsule that would expose the mineral to the ball of fire, and chemistry would do the rest. He shot three arrows at the three cannonballs headed their way. The extinguished cannonball shot past them in a longer trajectory since the mass remained constant and air resistance offered lesser deceleration to the projectile. As the Samsaptakas watched the fire extinguish mid-air by an unsuspecting frail arrow, and fall beyond their intended targets, Dhananjay took advantage of their pause to fire the incendiary arrows at their remaining catapults. A series of explosions followed, leading to damaged catapults on fire, their ammunition carts wreaking havoc.
“Yes, Madhav?” Dhananjay went back to their conversation. Madhav smiled, “Infants are fully dependent on parents – that is the law of nature. Parents often derive fulfillment, and purpose from this dependency, to the point that protecting their children becomes a part of their identity, if not the whole. We can teach them everything, but if we do not trust that they will make the right decision, take their decisions for them, and try to shield them from consequences, they will live a sheltered and entitled life forever. Your cousins are the most natural example of that.”
“Hmm,” Dhananjay went into a moment of introspection. “I understand, Madhav. We must trust ourselves to have taught our children to see right from wrong. And trust them to walk the path that leads them to their destiny. Let them fumble, fall. It is only natural. But we must teach them to get back up; not pull them up ourselves.”
Madhav only nodded slowly. “I trust you, Madhav. I might not have been there for Veer, but he was raised by you. And I could not have asked for more. I trust that my son will emerge victorious.” Dhananjay beamed with pride.
“Victory is merely a result, Parth,” Madhav stiffened. “It is never assured. It is ephemeral, circumstantial. Glory is eternal. It has nothing to do with victory. And I can only assure you, the world will never see another warrior as glorious as Veer.”
Second Prahar, Margashirsha Krishna Ashtami, 3162 BCE:
“What!?” Veer plunged his axe into the neck of a Kuru warrior who had been menacing Prativindhya for a while. He and a relieved Prativindhya rushed to Bheem’s side as Drishtadyumna and Yudhishthir rushed to regroup.
“Well, I’ll be damned. If Jayadrath is at the head of the Vyuha, good luck getting rid of him or breaking the formation.” Drishtadyumna sighed. Veer and Prativindhya’s aunt Dushala’s husband Jayadrath was the king of the powerful kingdom of Sindh and a Kuru loyalist – albeit for his own vendetta. He despised Dhananjay because his own archery skills were non-existent due to severe myopia, but he claimed he hated archery as it prevented him from savoring the gore of killing. So Jayadrath specialized in close combat – sword, mace, axe, and spear. With Baba away, Guru Drona brought in a great advantage.
Towards the end of the first prahar, Drishtadyumna received a report of the men assembling into formation. Jayadrath could ignite men with words, and Drishtadyumna knew that was their plan. Bring Yudhishthir or any of the other brothers close enough to the formation, and all Jayadrath needed to do was push them into the formation. Today’s battle would be over before it began.
“We can take him out,” Veer clenched his axe. If they lured Jayadrath to his advantage with close-combat, his hubris and poor vision would never see the arrow piercing his myopic eye from above. “If all four of you advance to Jayadrath,” Veer looked at the four Pandava brothers – Yudhishthir with his spear, Bheem with the mace, Nakul with his sword and Sahadev with the axe. “And engage with him continuously, separate him from the formation, take him away, his focus will spread thin, and I will get a window. Once he is done, we can mount a shielded formation and push the Chakravyuha back without getting sucked into it. Doing that is impossible with Jayadrath around.”
“Bad idea, Veer.” Bheem interjected. “If you or Yudhishthir get sucked into the formation, the war is over. We might as well surrender. I’d rather go in myself and beat Duryodhana to pulp in there. And destroy the formation from within. If not, I will take half of them down with me.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Kaka. The Chakravyuha is one of those rare formations that have to be broken by projectile arms. Close combat makes you lose energy. That is why the only people who know how to break the formation are primarily archers, and are on chariots.”
“Veer,” Drishtadyumna interjected. They were already losing men to the formation. Drupad, his father, who had some self-taught experience with the Chakravyuha, instructed all available regiments to flank each side of the formation, avoiding engagement and bypassing all the way to the thinned Kuru forces at their trenches. But when the soldiers marched away from the Vyuha or Jayadrath, Guru Drona countered it, having known Drupad’s tact since his childhood. Since the Kuru artillery was thinned from the formation, Guru Drona had an ingenious rectangular array of arrow launchers built – where about two hundred poison-laced arrows were launched at once by five soldiers manning the apparatus. Mechanical apparatus meant far more range, throughput and efficiency. And they had several copies of the apparatus along their camp. The infantry could not stray from the path of the Vyuha as long as Drona kept showering arrows. Death knocked their doors from all sides. Their option was either to die from arrows or at the hands of Jayadrath and the soldiers of the Vyuha. “This is the second time you are asking us to hand them their advantage to lure them into a bait. The risk is not worth the reward.”
“Yudhishthir Kaka”, Veer turned to his uncle. “The call is yours and the commander’s. The formation got mounted early. Baba should have been here. But he is not. We can’t buy more time. I say, we engage with Jayadrath, strong-arm and eliminate him and then push the Vyuha back into the no-man’s land. Guru Drona won’t fire arrows if we are in the same file as the formation. He will not risk collateral damage. The other option is to wait here to be engulfed by it, hoping we have enough men for them to slaughter till the sun drowns in their blood.”
Yudhishthir pondered at the dilemma, and then looked at Veer. “Don’t miss. And you are not entering the Chakravyuha alone. Clear?” Veer made a tight fist against his chest, and bowed down. Sumitra, his charioteer, reached the scene on cue, fetching Veer his bow and quiver. After relaying instructions to him, Veer sought approval from all the Pandava brothers. As Yudhishthir blew his conch, the soldiers cleared up, creating a passageway, and Jayadrath was right at the other end. All the four brothers rushed with their arms to engage with Jayadrath. Bloodshot eyes and a wicked smile, with his bare hands, Jayadrath crushed the windpipe of a soldier who got caught in his show. Metal clanked, sparks flew, the thuds of fists landing on face, metal and muscle became more and more audible as Veer and Prativindhya crept in closer from a side, amidst battling soldiers, making sure Jayadrath’s eyes never caught onto him. He even had Sumitra take the chariot towards the formation from the other side as a decoy.
“Vindhu, it’s time,” Veer tapped on Prativindhya’s shield. “Remember the mango tree?” Veer whispered. Prativindhya smiled and nodded. Prativindhya headed closer to the ensuing fist-fight among the brothers and Jayadrath, and knelt down with the shield against his shoulders. Veer was going to get one shot at this. Twenty paces away, he began the run up. Perfectly calculated, like they always did while jumping to grab those mangoes in the orchard, the moment Veer’s feet hit the shield, Prativindhya stood up and pushed the shield over his head towards the mob. Arrow mounted, Veer was in the air, with aim to Jayadrath’s head.
As the Pandava brothers and Veer-Vindhu pair had rushed towards Jayadrath, Drishtadyumna stood beside his father, Drupad, wondering why Duryodhana was in such a hurry to mount the formation, and put his brother-in-law on the front line. They had no reason to risk exposing Jayadrath to the enemies. Just then, an informant rushed with a report of losses from the enemy lines. These informants had free passage as per the war code, and shuttled between sides to report the lives lost and kills made after the end of every prahar. The informant walked in with a parchment, and the moment Drishtadyumna saw the list, his hands trembled, the fog in his mind clearing up to reveal waves of the tsunami heading towards them. With horror stricken eyes, he turned to Drupad, “Did you know Veer killed Duryodhana’s son Lakshman in the first prahar?” Just then, they both saw a figure make an arc in the air, with a bow and arrow. And a conch blew. Drona had baited them into this play. As Veer’s arrow headed towards Jayadrath, he deflected it like a well trained response. A reflex response to the sound of the conch.
The brothers duelling Jayadrath were taken aback when he deflected the arrow with ease. But they were more surprised at Jayadrath’s calm. Like he knew this was about to happen all along. Out of the corner of his eye, Sahadev caught Veer landing and rolling over to his chariot. Like a well rehearsed dance, Veer got into the chariot, and shot four arrows at the two unit cells of the Chakravyuha. Killing four men at once, he created the gap to enter the first layer from a side, bypassing almost a quarter of the first layer from the mouth of the formation.
The color drained from Drupad’s face, as everything became clear. “Duryodhana wanted revenge. His target was never Yudhishthir. Jayadrath was sent to prevent the Pandavas from protecting Veer.”
Veer took stock of his ammunition. Sumitra had loaded reinforcements. More arrows, spears, axe, mace and all the weapons he could scourge without raising suspicion. Forgive me, Baba. Veer prayed in silence. If they knew about Lakshman, they would never let me into the field again. Far too many of my soldiers are losing lives. He had hoped the arrow would kill Jayadrath, but was not counting on it. The trap was evident, and he was sure they had contingencies to protect Jayadrath. He would have to keep his uncles busy while he found a gap in the Vyuha. This is my fault. My men are dying mercilessly because I killed Lakshman. But I am going to correct it. I will push the Vyuha away from our camp. Push back from the epicenter. Once I enter, the switchback will lock the formation. They will not engulf anymore soldiers. Everyone stays out. Veer tried to picture what his Mama would tell him. Victory is never assured, Veer. But glory can be earned. Nabhah Sparsham Deeptam. Touch the sky with glory. Victor or not, he would make the two men he learnt everything from, proud. Whatever the cost he would have to pay. Sumitra dashed the chariot through the path, Veer ducking from arrows, and trying to find a weakling soldier to penetrate into the next layer.