THE MAHABHARATA: A Modern Rendering, Vol 2 by Ramesh Menon

Author:Ramesh Menon [Menon, Ramesh]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780595845651
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2006-07-19T20:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

TERRIBLE SATYAKI

Satyaki, the whirlwind, blasts through the remains of the shakata vyuha. The Kaurava soldiers attack him in fury, but he blows them away: blood flying everywhere and screams ringing, as the Yadava storms on. In a few moments, at the edge of the padma vyuha, a smiling Drona confronts Satyaki. Satyaki has no choice but to fight. Shaft for shaft he matches the canny brahmana and it seems that neither will prevail.

Drona knows what Satyaki has come for and is happy to frustrate his mission. He cries, “Your guru escaped me like a coward when we fought. He folded his hands, made a pradakshina round my chariot and fled. But you won’t escape with your life, unless you mean to be a coward as well.”

It is as if Arjuna has spoken to his pupil through his master’s lips. Satyaki laughs aloud, he roars back at Drona, “A sishya must follow his guru. If Arjuna was a coward before you, O Drona, I am happy to be one as well!”

Satyaki makes a pradakshina around the Acharya’s chariot and flashes away into the padma vyuha. As they skim along, the Yadava cries to his sarathy, “Ahead is Baahlika’s army. Beyond him is the lord of Dravida and beside him Karna’s legion from Anga. Ride at Karna and the Dravida king. Look how Drona races after us. Go like the wind. The sun drops quickly, we must reach Arjuna as soon as we can.

Satyaki, with Drona after him, roars through the Dravida king’s legions and Karna’s, in a furrow of blood. How much like the guru his sishya is: the same swiftness of hand, the same unruffled smile, as if he has all the time in the world to arrive where he is going. Kritavarman sets himself in Satyaki’s path. Satyaki does not acknowledge a Yadava before him; he fights his cousin like any enemy. Krita-varman is familiar with Satyaki’s style and draws blood. For a moment, Satyaki staggers in his chariot. Then he casts a javelin at Kritavarman’s sarathy, so he falls out of his seat. Kritavarman’s horses bolt and it is a while before he can seize the reins and bring them under control. By then Satyaki has gone, out of reach.

Kritavarman lets the advancing Pandava army feel his anger. He smashes their formation, scattering the likes of Bheema, Shikhandi and Dhrishtadyumna.

Satyaki ploughs on. He has crossed two great rivers on his way to his master: Drona, the first and Kritavarman, the second. On flares the Yadava like fire through a dry forest. Jalasandha’s legion of elephants appears in his path and, quick as wishing, Kurukshetra is strewn with grey hillocks tinted scarlet. The field looks as if Bheema is abroad. Roaring to see his beasts slain, Jalasandha himself charges Satyaki. He strikes the Yadava in the arm with a light lance and next moment, breaks his bow. Every encounter saps Satyaki’s waning strength. He has neither the time nor the stamina for a prolonged duel. The Vrishni seizes up another bow.

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