Duryodhana’s mastery in contriving grave crimes, trifling with the lives and destinies of many while deftly shifting the burden of guilt upon others, astonished the elders and the grandsire in the Kuru assembly. The vast hall bore silent witness to a cruel game in which the meanings of crime, justice, duty, and consequence were artfully twisted. This manner of conduct darkened the atmosphere and emboldened the wicked to stand openly beside Duryodhana, lending strength to his arrogance and resolve.
Without the slightest hesitation he proclaimed that Dharmaraja alone was the cause of their misfortunes and the very root of the destruction that would soon strike the dynasties as a whole. His words shattered the serenity that had enveloped the assembly hall, sanctified as it was by the presence of great sages such as Kanva, Jamadagni, and Narada, and illumined by the majestic aura of Narayana, the sustainer of the universe. The posture, gestures, and veiled crookedness of Duryodhana foretold a great calamity. King Dhritarashtra sensed foul play, yet remained silent, his heart heavy with unspoken anxiety.
Raising his voice, Duryodhana declared that he would not grant even the smallest share to his cousins and that it was impossible for both sides to rule the kingdom. He denounced the sons of Kunti as unjust in their demands, accusing them of exploiting the king’s soft corner toward them. Their methods, he claimed, would never succeed, and he announced his resolve to reject everything outright. With Bhishma and Dronacharya, as he asserted, standing on his side, he proclaimed that he would not give land equal even to the point of a needle to the sons of Pandu. Whoever prevailed in battle, he concluded, alone would rule Hastinapura, and this, he insisted, was his final decision.
At these words, the white lotus eyes of Sri Krishna reddened, and his pleasing countenance took on an expression befitting the gravity of the moment. The slayer of the demon Mura resolved to respond despite the worst provocation and the shameless arguments endured by the assembly. Vasudeva spoke, addressing Suyodhana, saying that he had declared himself faultless, though the world was witness to the harm he had inflicted upon the Pandavas. He recalled how poison had been mixed into their food, how deadly serpents had been released upon them, how they had been bound and cast into deep waters, and how the house of wax had been set ablaze. Again and again attempts had been made upon their lives, yet their virtue had preserved them, allowing them to emerge from every peril. Still, Duryodhana’s eyes had fallen upon their wealth and kingdom, his heart overflowing with sinful thoughts, leading him to drag them into a deceitful gamble. By a preconceived design, they were made to lose and suffer grievously, though their constant adherence to righteousness shielded them from his wicked schemes.
Sri Krishna then asked plainly whether there existed anyone on earth who had cheated brothers in a deceitful gamble, seized their wife by the hair, and sought to outrage her modesty. He reminded Suyodhana that the humiliation of Panchali in the Kuru assembly stood on one side, while on the other lay the crude, mean, and brutal words uttered by him and Karna, words unfit to be spoken before the cultured, learned, and venerable. The insult to a chaste woman and the humiliation beyond measure had been witnessed by the very same assembly, yet in that same place and before those same people he now claimed to be without fault. Such a narrative, Krishna declared, was possible only for him. As for the accusation that the Pandavas were invaders, had it been true, his life would not have remained intact to this day, for it was their restraint and righteousness that had spared him so far. The counsel of his father, of Bhishma, and of Drona had failed to touch his heart. Once again Krishna urged that the path of peace was best for both sides, insisting upon it for Duryodhana’s own good, for the welfare of his lineage, and for the well-being of the masses who depended upon this decision.
Duryodhana grew increasingly uneasy under the weight of Krishna’s virtuous words. Noticing this, Dushasana intervened, declaring that their father, Dronacharya, and the grandsire, while professing goodwill and urging duty, were in truth speaking improperly and violating all decency. He claimed that if Duryodhana did not agree to an alliance, they would hand him over to Sri Krishna, who would harm him then and there. Influenced by these wicked words, and disregarding the cautions of Bahlika, Bhishma, Dhritarashtra, and Drona not to act rashly, Duryodhana brazenly left the assembly with violent gesture and gait. The Kauravas were disturbed by this unexpected turn, and Karna, Shakuni, their allies, and his brothers followed him. Standing apart from the assembly, they began to brood over some dark design.
Bhishma, the son of Ganga, gazing upon the crowd outside the hall, remarked that Duryodhana had grown arrogant and rough, forgetting the dignity of kingship. He had violated the decorum of the assembly through greed, wickedness, lack of manners, ignorance, folly, and jealousy. With misguided intent, certain kings had followed him, their minds swayed by restless vigor. The crooked Dushasana had thwarted the sincere efforts and meaningful counsel of all right-minded men, and the evil spark in Duryodhana had caught flame, drawing them into a faction outside. What course would follow now remained uncertain.
Turning to Sri Krishna, Bhishma observed that all these kings were approaching the brink of devastation. Krishna, looking upon what was worthy and just, spoke with clarity, saying that the haughtiness of Duryodhana, inflamed by Dushasana, had led him to believe that the kings of the assembly should not be humbled by Krishna’s counsel. He questioned whether there was any other means to restrain such improper conduct, and how the impact of such base behavior could be reduced in one born of a noble lineage. He likened Duryodhana to an incurable pain afflicting the Kauravas, recalling how, when Kamsa tormented his father and destroyed his kin, they had appealed to him. Then, like a skilled surgeon amputating a gangrenous limb to save the body, Krishna had slain Kamsa, installed Ugrasena upon the throne, and preserved the lineage and the people. He urged the elders to follow this path to save the kingdom and the Kuru dynasty, declaring that once the affliction named Duryodhana was removed, all troubles would cease, the glory of the Kuru line would shine perpetually, and the Kurus and Pandavas alike would live in peace and happiness.
Dhritarashtra was shaken by Krishna’s words, fearing danger for his son. Turning to Vidura, he said that Gandhari, wise and eloquent, should be brought to calm Duryodhana. Vidura hastened and escorted her to the assembly, where she took her rightful seat. Dhritarashtra then addressed her, lamenting that their son had left the assembly in disobedience, asking whether there was any greater fool, and urging her to persuade him to heed Krishna’s counsel and save the Kuru race, for her efforts alone might avert disaster.
Gandhari replied with calm firmness, asking why, knowing that his son refused obedience, the king continued to indulge him. She questioned what prevented him from granting whatever he wished to the sons of Pandu, thus delivering a clear rebuttal that reminded the king of his authority. With impartial condemnation she exposed the needless gentleness and the hidden weakness in his handling of affairs, striking at the heart of the matter in a single stroke. Her words rekindled hope in discerning minds, stirring expectations of what the future might yet hold.
At the command of both Dhritarashtra and Gandhari, Vidura went to summon Duryodhana. The king, meanwhile, seemed to draw aside the curtain for yet more dramatic scenes, once again displaying his unending capacity to align himself with his wicked son, Duryodhana, as the tragic course of events pressed onward.
