Sisupala, deaf to the earnest counsel of Bhishma and unmoved by the warning glance of Bhima, strode forward to confront Sri Krishna. In swelling pride, he cried, “O Kesava! Thou art unworthy of reverence. By the false spirit of friendship, this aged grandsire of the Kurus hath invoked thy worship. The Pandavas, blinded by folly, and this Bhishma, held in thy spell, have dared to set the field for strife with me.” His words, steeped in arrogance, rang through the royal court.
Then Krishna, his voice rising like a clarion for all to hear, answered: “When we laid siege to Pragjyotisha ruled by Bhagadatta, this Sisupala, wicked of heart, set Dwaraka aflame and filled our women and children with terror. While the valiant Bhoja kings rested with their families upon Mount Raivata, he struck them down in cruel slaughter. He desecrated the holy Aswamedha of Vasudeva by stealing the consecrated horse, and he dragged away Babru’s wife to force her into his house. He sowed discord by false and bitter words. For the sake of my aunt Satwatha I endured his hundred sins. Yet here, before you all, he heaps new insults and casts away restraint.”
Before Krishna could utter more, Sisupala, with clenched fists and eyes afire, hurled his final abuse: “O shelterer of the vile, I care not for thy favour or thy wrath. Dost thou not blush to have stolen the maiden who was destined to be my bride?” Maddened by his own venom, he raved against truth and reason, his tongue losing a torrent of invective.
Then the divine discus Sudarshana, whirling in blazing circles of unbearable brilliance, shot forth like a living flame. With a roar that struck terror into all hearts, it swept through the air and severed the blasphemer’s head. The foul mouth was silenced in an instant. Kings and warriors stood frozen, their eyes wide, as Sisupala’s mighty body crashed to the earth like a mountain smitten by the thunderbolt. From that lifeless frame a radiant light arose and, like a spark returning to the fire, merged into the person of Sri Krishna.
At that moment, the heavens themselves bore witness: without clouds the sky thundered and rain fell in sudden showers; the oceans heaved and the earth trembled in joy that a sinner was struck down. The Eternal, whose navel is the lotus-seat of the Creator, was praised by men, sages, and celestials; their hymns rolled like the murmur of the ocean and the cool evening breeze bore the music of their reverence.
Krishna then commanded that the rites of cremation be duly performed and set Dristaketu, the son of Sisupala, upon the throne of Chedi. Under the protection of Jagannatha, the great Rajasuya sacrifice proceeded without hindrance. Yudhishthira shone in spotless glory, honoured by Brahmins and kings alike, his name acclaimed throughout the earth. Monarchs from every realm extolled him, saying, “O son of the Kuru house, thou art as the sun among scholars; thy virtues are a treasure beyond compare, and thy lineage of Ajameedha shines undiminished.” They recalled the ancient sires—Ajameedha, Hasti, Vikantana—and blessed the fortune of beholding such a sacrifice. Then, with Yudhishthira’s leave, they returned each to his own domain.
By Yudhishthira’s bidding, Bhima escorted Bhishma and Dhritarashtra, while Arjuna, Drupada, Nakula, Karna, Salya, Subala, Sahadeva, Kripa, Aswatthama, Dhrishtadyumna, Virata, Bhagadatta, Abhimanyu and the young Pandavas took leave of the far-travelled kings. The Brahmins departed, their hearts gladdened, and poured forth their blessings upon the son of Dharma.
Sri Krishna, after bestowing his benediction on all, made ready to return to Dwaraka. He said to Yudhishthira, “As the world depends on the bounty of the rain-god, as birds live by the fruit of the trees, as the gods abide in the grace of Indra, so let thy people live in the shelter of thy care. Be ever watchful in the guardianship of thy realm and let no moment pass in negligence.”
Yudhishthira bowed and replied, “O Lord of the earth, by thy grace this sacrifice has reached a flawless end. The kings of every land have saluted me, and my house shines in honour. Though thy dwelling be in Dwaraka, thy heart is with us; our hearts cannot part from thee.” With reluctant reverence he consented to Krishna’s departure.
The scion of the Satwathas ascended his golden chariot, its mighty steeds flying like the wind beneath the guidance of Daruka. The Pandavas watched him go as though a fragment of their own soul were torn away.
Duryodhana and Sakuni lingered to marvel at the wondrous Mayasabha. Alone, he wandered through its magic halls, struck at every turn by the marvels of Maya’s art. Where he thought a door stood open, it was shut; where he believed a floor lay firm, a hidden chasm yawned. At a pond of sapphire he lifted his robe, thinking it filled with water, only to find dry crystal. At another of pure crystal, which seemed like solid ground, he stepped boldly and plunged in.
The Pandavas and Draupadi laughed at these deceptions, and their mirth stung Duryodhana’s heart. When Yudhishthira, in kindness, sent through Bhima dry garments and ornaments, the proud prince burned the more, for Bhima was his chosen rival. He departed from Indraprasth,a seething with humiliation.
The splendour of that city scorched his eyes; the praises showered on Yudhishthira gnawed at his soul. Like a pond in the heat of midsummer, his spirit shrank; like impure gold in the furnace his pride grew dark. Jealousy consumed him, and he resolved upon any sin that might bring ruin to the Pandavas. He shunned the duties of the state and gave his days to plotting. In that poisoned heart were sown the seeds of the calamities that would one day shake the earth and stain the history of kings.
