Udayan: The Forgotten Pandava

PREFACE

The Ramayan and Mahabharat, the two great epics of ancient Bharatvarsh, are both well known to the modern world. However, few people are aware that a third epic exists – the Bruhatkatha, composed by Gunadhya, a scholar-savant-poet as gifted as Maharshi Valmiki and Maharshi Vyas, the authors of the two established epics.

The chief protagonist of Gunadhya’s epic is the gallant King Udayan of the Vatsa kingdom, once located between Avanti and Magadh, straddling modern day Bihar and Madhya Pradesh. While history has not conferred on Udayan the godlike status of Lord Ram or Lord Krishna, or the heroic stature of his forbear, Arjun, he was nevertheless supremely gifted by the Gods. An eighth generation descendant of the Pandava warrior-prince Arjun, Udayan was both handsome to behold and a leader of surpassing courage. He was also a virtuoso on the veena. A thousand years ago, his life story was as popular in the retelling as the Ramayan and the Mahabharat are today. So much so, that Kalidas, in describing the town of Ujjayini in his Meghdoot, mentions the town elders enthusiastically narrating to visitors the legend of Udayan, especially his abduction of Vasavdatta, princess of Avanti.

In the 13th century AD, Govardhanacharya wrote in his Aryasaptashati: ‘My tributes to the great poets Vyas, Valmiki and Gunadhya, the creators of Ramayan, Mahabharat and Bruhatkatha. It is because of them that mellifluous oratory has started flowing in three streams.’

In those days Gunadhya was admired and celebrated in the same vein as Vyas and Valmiki. Unfortunately, unlike the Ramayan and the Mahabharat, Gunadhya’s Bruhatkatha is largely unavailable today. The manuscript, consisting of an astonishing 700,000 couplets, was burned by Gunadhya himself. However, about 100,000 shlokas survived, and this is what remains of the third great epic of Bharatvarsh.

There was a reason why the poet attempted to destroy his work. Gunadhya had actually penned seven epic tales or Bruhatkatha (bruhat = voluminous, katha = tale), totalling 700,000 couplets, in the Paishachi language. It took him seven years to complete. Living as he did in the forest, he found it difficult to procure ink to write with. Nor did he wish the spirits, the Vidyadhars, who travelled in the air and lived in the woods, to know of his work. So Gunadhya wrote all seven lakh shlokas in his own blood. Having completed the work, he began reading it to his disciples. The sessions inevitably attracted the Vidyadhars and the Siddhas, who listened to the epic with devout attention. As a result, some of them eventually gained salvation and release.

Goddess Parvati, impressed by the power of the story, wished it to gain a permanent place in the mortal world. Gunadhya himself was worried about the future of his work. Gunadeo and Nandideo, two of his disciples, suggested that he dedicate the epic to some King, so it could be read and heard by the people. King Saatvahan, a discerning lover of art and literature, was considered the best royal to approach in the matter.

Gunadhya agreed. Accompanied by his disciples, he went to Pratishthan Nagari, the capital of the Saatvahan dynasty. There he camped in a garden called Devi Udyan. His disciples went to meet the King with the manuscript of their guru’s epic. They explained the background of the story and the purpose of their visit.

King Saatvahan was erudite but he had become conceited about his knowledge. When he saw the epic work, he became envius of Gunadhya. The two disciples, barefoot and roughly dressed, having come straight from the forest, looked like savages to the noble King. Without reading the epic, he opined: ‘The couplets of this epic are written in the Paishachi language. Moreover, it is written in blood! I condemn it as the most unholy of works!’

The Paishachi language was considered unrefined, used only by the common people around Ujjayini. Condemning the use of blood as ink as an impious act, the King rejected the mighty work.

Disappointed, the two disciples returned to their guru and reported what the King had said. Gunadhya was deeply saddened. In his despair, he went to a nearby hill and prepared a yagna altar and generated a holy fire. Soon the animals and birds of the jungle gathered around and Gunadhya began reading his great work to them. As he finished each page of his manuscript, he placed it in the fire of the yagna. Gunadeo and Nandideo, witnessing the tragic event, couldn’t control their tears. Even the animals who heard the story wept.

Some days later, King Saatvahan fell suddenly ill. The vaidya (Ayurvedic doctor), summoned to treat him, declared the illness had been caused by consuming dry meat. The enraged King immediately summoned his cook and demanded an explanation.

‘Maharaj, it is not my fault,’ the quaking cook mumbled. ‘These days the hunters deliver only dehydrated meat. I am helpless!’

When questioned, the chief huntsman said: ‘Maharaj, a Brahmin has come to our jungle. Sitting atop the hill he is reading some manuscript and burning every page after reading it. All the animals and birds have gathered around him without consuming any food or water. There is no moisture left in their bodies.’

King Saatvahan was surprised to hear this and decided to go to the hill to see for himself. What he witnessed made him realise what a terrible mistake he had made. He humbly bowed before Gunadhya. Apologising to the guru, he requested him to narrate the entire story to him again.

‘O King,’ replied Gunadhya, ‘I sent my disciples to you because I heard you respect and honour talent. When you rejected my work without even reading it, I was filled with despair. I decided to destroy this treasure trove of knowledge as I saw no point in keeping it in a place where there was no respect for knowledge or for scholars. I have already destroyed six lakh couplets and there are only one lakh couplets left now. If you wish, my disciples will translate and read them to you in Sanskrit."

Gunadhya rose and took his leave of his disciples and the King. Travelling deep into the jungle, he took yog-samadhi, departing his earthly body.

The one lakh shlokas Gunadhya left behind have survived the intervening centuries to the present day. The story of King Udayan, part of these shlokas, occupies pride of place in the Sanskrit literature of ancient Bharatvarsh.

Kathasaritsagar by Somdev Sharma and Bruhatkathamanjiri by Kshemendra, are both based on the Bruhatkatha. Somdev, an employee of King Anant of Kashmir, in the 11th century, wrote Kathasaritsagar in Sanskrit, based on the Bruhatkatha, which was then available only in the Paishachi language, to entertain Queen Suryavati. He narrated to her the story of Udayan, the Pandava.

Udayan’s story also finds mention in Buddhist and Jain literature. The tale is so beautiful and gives such a vivid glimpse of Bharatvarshn culture of that era, that it is no wonder it has fascinated many great writers. Bhasa, another poet, wrote two plays – Pratidnyayaugandharayan and Svapnavasavadattam, based on the story. Other plays depicting the life of Udayan are Priyadarshika and Ratnavali by Sri Harsh, I know they cannot be wished away, but when they become the lot of just one individual, it does not bode well for the Empire.

Udayan was the fifth Pandava King after Parikshit. That puts Udayan’s period before Buddha. According to the historian, Vincent Smith, Udayan’s period falls between 550-490 BC. There is, however, a second school of thought which places Udayan as the 26th generation descendant of Pandu. Here, we have taken the first to be the more realistic estimate. The fascinating tales of this pleasure-loving musician-King were immensely popular up to the time of Harsha, around 650 AD. Udayan’s life became part of Indian folklore, told and retold in every household. The following centuries, however, saw foreign invasions of Bharatvarsh. During this turbulent period, Udayan faded from public memory. This book is therefore an effort to revive the classic epic, affording interesting insights into ancient Bharatvarshn culture, the social structure, politics and espionage systems of the time, as well as the thinking that prevailed. I hope you will enjoy this great story that has come down the years to us.

*****

I

THE AMATYA’S VOW

Huge columns of fire shot into the dark night sky like the intimidating waves of a rough sea. They rose up in angry peaks, paused in the heavens and then returned to earth in a shower of burning sparks.

Yaugandharayan, Amatya of Vatsa [Head of the Council of Ministers], stood watching the fire raging in the distance with a fixed gaze. The sky looked like it had been wrapped in a thick ebony quilt, the bolts of lightning streaking across it like bright silver threads, reaching down towards the golden flames soaring into the sky. This was no celebration or demonstration of fireworks; it was the signal that the Vatsa army was returning home.

In the flashes of lightning and the radiant glow of the fire, Yaugandharayan could see the tired faces of the men of the massive Vatsa army. The troops were gathering in a vast open space, relieved to have safely returned from their mission. From where he stood, the scene looked like a swarm of bees at a hive. Soon a battalion of soldiers separated from the mass and rode towards the Raj Path, leading to the royal palace.

Ah, our special force... muttered Amatya, standing at the window, arms folded across his chest.

The chariots speeding at the head of the battalion looked hazy in the dim yellow smoky light of the torches burning along the road on either side. Their occupants beat their drums lightly, announcing the return of the army. Whenever the army returned victorious, even from a minor battle, the same drumbeats were loud enough to rent the air of the capital city, Kaushambi. At those times the citizens would come out onto their balconies and crowd the windows of their two-storied houses to shower petals on the triumphant army. The more enthusiastic ones crowded the streets, dancing to the beat of the drums and the sound of blowing conches. The soldiers, who otherwise maintained their distance from the common citizenry, would forgot decorum and mingle freely with the crowds, dancing along with the people, the long curved bugles, the khanjiris, zanjs and panavs, adding to the cacophonous and euphoric din.

All that was missing today.

The band that announced victories was silent. Not surprising, of course. There was no need to drum up enthusiasm and initiate revelry in defeat. Like the music, the jubilant war cries of the soldiers remained unspoken.

Yaugandharayan stared at the advancing special force. Behind the chariots carrying the musicians was the chariot of the Chief of Army, Rumanwan, easily recognisable by the flag of the Sun Dynasty flying atop it. The General’s chariot was followed by those of the warrior chiefs. Behind them came the foot soldiers. The elephant division of the Royal Military formed the rearguard. The cavalry rode on both sides of the elephant division, to keep the pachyderms on course. The men and animals raised clouds of dust as they marched towards the palace.

Suddenly it began to rain, lashing down without mercy on human and animal alike. The Royal Path was thrown into chaos – horses neighed, elephants trumpeted and the foot soldiers shouted, caught in the stampede. Yaugandharayan stood unperturbed, calmly watching the chaotic scene below, his arms folded across his broad chest, his hard face expressionless.

Take the wounded to the infirmary. Treat the wounded animals...deposit the explosives in the armoury... the Amatya heard General Rumanwan order his men, his voice raised above the din.

The rain became more intense, the raindrops dancing wildly on the roof of the royal palace. Even in the heavy downpour lightning flashed brightly enough to make its fleeting presence felt. The fire raging on earth was finally doused. The horses and elephants were taken to their stables and the men dispersed.

After some time the rain abated, as suddenly as it had begun. Darkness and silence engulfed Kaushambi. The oil lamps in Yaugandharayan’s office had dimmed. The corridor lamps had not been lit yet. A dāsi [maidservant] walked in and lifted a ladle to pour some sesame oil into one of the decorative lamps.

Don’t light the lamps, Alka! Yaugandharayan ordered abruptly from his position by the window. Today I find the darkness comforting. Perhaps...perhaps I will see a path towards the light through the darkness, he murmured to himself under his breath.

The dāsi hesitated and then emptied the ladle of oil back into the jar she held and went out quietly.

Yaugandharayan gazed into the darkness outside. It was pitch black everywhere except for a few torches holding their own in the verandahs of some houses. Their red-yellow light only served to emphasise the deep darkness around them. Yaugandharayan could see the moving silhouettes of the night watchmen on patrol, holding palmleaf umbrellas above their heads. Occasionally, a mounted soldier or traveller passed, the sound of hoofs reverberating for a while before fading into the distance.

Yaugandharayan looked at the dark city one last time before returning to his seat. He remained lost in thought for some time. He knew it was his duty to give a detailed account of the war to King Udayan, but he was loth to disturb His Majesty at this hour of night. In any event the King had little interest in wars anymore. It was he, Yaugandharayan, who was concerned about the empire. Afterall, he was the Amatya. It was his lot to feel the pain of witnessing the great empire created over generations, quickly deteriorate and degenerate. Things had come to such a pass that instead of the King, it was now the Amatya’s job to maintain and run the empire.

Yaugandharayan’s mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. Overcome, he put his head in his hands. The darkness that pervaded the world outside had seeped into his mind as well. The future of the kingdom appeared bleak and he condemned to darkness. A good reputation made life worthwhile and motivated one towards purity of thought and action, but a bad name made life a living hell. His heart felt burdened by the ill repute the King and the kingdom of Vatsa were accumulating. He felt ashamed. He grieved that an empire that once covered the Bharatvarshn sub-continent, was being destroyed through neglect and lack of leadership.

The Amatya knew he was not to blame for what was happening, yet he felt shame sear his soul. He had never erred in doing his job as Chief of the King’s Council. He had used all his considerable diplomatic skills to keep the enemies of the empire and annexed kingdoms in check.

He had even been devious, going against the grain of his forthright character. However, in today’s battle with King Aaruni, all his efforts had failed to fetch the desired outcome.

The constant memory of failure deprives a man of hope of future success. But if he accepts defeat as a challenge and redoubles his efforts, he can find the path towards the light. A learned and intelligent man, Yaugandharayan understood this well and soon regained his composure, renewing his resolve to make efforts towards a better future. Even as he gazed at the darkness outside, a ray of hope was kindled in his mind. He saw clearly the bright dawn waiting to be born. Courage and confidence returned once more to his mind and heart.

I will remove this blot from Vatsa. I, Amatya Yaugandharayan, vow, the darkness being my witness, that I will reclaim our vast empire through King Udayan himself. I will not rest till this happens.

He sat back with eyes closed in the deep dark silence.

*****

2

EMPIRE IN PERIL

KAUSHAMBI, VATSA EMPIRE:549 BC

Sujay unrolled a heavy canvas on the table before the Amatya. It was a map of Bharatvarsh.

Yaugandharayan had risen well before dawn to bathe and sit in quiet meditation in his private chamber as the sun rose on a new day. Now he looked down intently at the cloth map, made by pounding out a thick pad of cotton, the best medium for cartography. On this specially made cloth, the map of the sub-continent was drawn, using colours obtained from ground minerals, flower and leaf juices, and powdered coal. The land of Bharat spread from the Gandhara kingdom in the north-west to Kamroop in the east, and from the Himalayas in the north to Tamravarni, the Red State, in the south. The two kingdoms of Magadh and Avanti in the mid-east, were painted a pale shade of red to make them stand out.

Yaugandharayan’s right hand reached towards the ink pot, made from a dried nut shell and set into a wooden base. A notch in the wooden stand contained an eagle feather quill. Sand and blotting paper lay close to hand to absorb an excess ink. Yaugandharayan dipped the quill into the ink pot and started marking spots on the map. First Sindh, followed by Kashi, Anga, Vanga, Kalinga, Paundra, Kamroop and Utkal kingdoms in the east; then Rashtrik, Aandhra, Chaul, Pandya, Mahishak and Karnot in the south; and finally Saurashtra, Aanart, Bhrugu-Kachha and Kukur in the west. The region populated by the strong Aabhir tribe was marked as well. Dipping the quill in the ink again, Yaugandharayan turned to northern Bharat and marked the kingdoms of Trigart, Kath, Dakshin Panchal, Madra, Shibi, Malav, Kashmir and Kulut.

Sujay stood in silence, awaiting instructions. Though Yaugandharayan had neither asked him to leave nor to wait, Sujay knew what was expected of him. He had been in the Amatya’s service for over two years now. Before that he had been an ordinary servant in the administrative office. Noticing his systematic way of working and commitment to the job, Yaugandharayan had promoted Sujay to be his personal attendant. In a short time, Sujay had learned all the habits and practices of his master. He had also learned not to move away until he was expressly instructed to.

The atmosphere in the chamber grew hot as the harsh Kartik sun spewed fire overhead. The earth, lying supine under the scorching heat all day, would suddenly change in the evening, when dark clouds would appear from nowhere, bringing storm and rain, just as it had the previous evening.

Yaugandharayan, however, paid scant heed to the fierce heat as he sat waving a small hand fan of woven cane. It helped keep his bald pate from sweating. Sujay, however, was sweating profusely. The white cotton pagdi on his head was soaked through and his bare body looked like it had been sculpted from glistening ebony. But his dark eyes remained fixed on his master. Silently, Sujay prayed for the evening; the heat was unbearable.

The creaking of the wooden staircase announced the approach of someone. Immediately, Sujay went to check who came. He returned to announce, General Rumanwan, Sir.

Send the General in, Yaugandharayan replied, adding quietly, and you may go now.

General Rumanwan entered and stood before the Amatya. Tall and burly, he looked every inch the fierce warrior he was. He had piercing brown eyes and his moustache was thick, pointed and well groomed. His equally well-groomed beard only added to his intimidating personality.

Welcome, General! Yaugandharayan said, his eyes going to the bright red feathers on the General’s helmet.

"Pranaam Arya." The General’s earrings swayed as he bowed before taking a chair.

The Amatya scanned the map before him once again. He marked two more kingdoms. In sudden frustration, he banged the quill on the Vatsa kingdom. A big blot of ink formed over it and the rest of the map became bespattered with ink. A smattering even landed on the hands of the two men. A heavy sigh came from the Amatya, breaking the humid silence of the room.

Rumanwan understood the frustration and anguish of the Amatya over the reverses faced in the recent war. He also knew that for Yaugandharayan, the kingdom’s prestige was far more important than his personal well-being. This brilliant man was not merely an employee appointed by the King to head the Council, but a fiercely loyal caretaker of the Vatsa kingdom. Even such small actions as banging the quill on the map came from his deep hurt and anger at losing the war. So steadfast was his loyalty that the kingdom and he were one entity in his mind.

***

Sahasranik, one of the kings of the Pandava dynasty, great-grandson of Parikshit, grandson of Janmejay and son of Shatanik, once ruled Vatsa. A valiant King, he was served by three loyal ministers: Yugandhar, Supratik and Narmsuhrud. Each sired a son, named Yaugandharayan, Rumanwan and Vasantak respectively. A few years later, King Sahasranik and his wife, Queen Mrugavati, had a son, whom they named Udayan.

Shatanik, Udayan’s grandfather, was a valiant King. Like his famous Pandava forbears, Shatanik began a mission to conquer all of Bharatvarsh. Starting in the east, he eventually established his rule in all of Bharat, except the powerful kingdoms of Magadh and Avanti. Hastinapur became the capital of the vast new empire.

However, some years later, the glittering capital was washed away in a devastating flood. Shatanik then chose Kaushambi, on the banks of the Yamuna, as his capital, saying, ‘An empire has not so much to do with geography as it does with valour.’ True to his word, he turned Kaushambi into a strong and prosperous capital, like Hastinapur had once been. Later, Kaushambi came to be known as Vatsa.

Any empire survives as much on the intellectual prowess of its ministers as it does on the might of its army. Shatanik and Sahasranik were both fortunate to be served by excellent ministers of great ability. That the empire grew and prospered over three generations was largely due to them. Udayan too, had a great general in Rumanwan, and an astute and loyal Amatya in Yaugandharayan. Content to leave the business of running his kingdom to them, he led la carefree existence. The concientous pair made great efforts to hold the kingdom together. While Rumanwan’s was tested on the battlefield, Yaugandharayan used his statesmanship to keep the kingdom’s boundaries intact.

In the past few months, however, there had been recurrent incidents of insurgency at many places across the kingdom. Many of the smaller Kings had defied the Vatsa Empire, refusing to remain as vassals. King Aaruni of a neighbouring state was one such. Last month he had finally defeated the Vatsa army in a decisive all-out battle and seceded from the Vatsa kingdom.

Now, as Rumanwan spoke, his eyes remained on the vista outside the window.

Amatya, it is true Aaruni vanquished us in a decisive battle, but let me tell you our soldiers fought bravely. In the end Aaruni sent cavalry reinforcements to attack us...

We will analyse the defeat at the formal meeting of ministers, General, Yaugandharayan interrupted, turning his sharp gaze on Rumanwan.

Amatya, I will present a detailed report at the meeting, but...but if I could just have a fresh army... Rumanwan appealed desperately.

The moment has passed, General! We must accept the fact that King Aaruni prepared for this war for a long time and finally succeeded in defeating us. He raised a quizzical eyebrow. There can be no doubt that brave efforts are necessary to accomplish anything. However, it also needs the support of helpful colleagues and the backing of superiors.

Rumanwan knew exactly what the Amatya meant by these trenchant words but he remained silent, not venturing an opinion.

Yaugandharayan’s bald pate glistened in the sunlight coming in from the slatted window set close to the ceiling. The shadow on the wall behind him was as steady as the man himself. The tuft of hair which fell from the back of his head to his neck was coal black. The horizontal lines on his forehead and the straight, flat nose were indicative of his thoughtful nature. He wore a white robe with a yellow stole draped over his left shoulder. Gold chains and strings of pearls gleamed around his neck. A white sacred thread ran from his left shoulder to the right side of his waist, proclaiming his Brahmin status.

Rumanwan, I speak to you now not as the Amatya, but as a friend.

Yaugandharayan rose from his seat and went over to a long window, left wide open to let in what little breeze there was. The view outside was like a landscape painting. The sun had risen high; citizens came and went towards the offices on the ground floor of the palace, on official work; mounted guards patrolled the streets and sentries stood at their posts. But Yaugandharayan did not see any of this, his eyes were fixed on the far horizon.

We failed to protect the Empire created so valiantly by previous generations. What shame we bring on Vatsa!

Rumanwan did not utter a word. He found no reason to counter Yaugandharayan. Instead, he looked at the map spread out on the table, recalling the many battles he had fought with the various States shown on the map. The Vatsa Empire had once been vast and invincible, but under Udayan, it was all but destroyed.

Yaugandharayan walked back to the table and put a finger on the large ink blot that was Vatsa. Our existence in now limited to our own kingdom, he said with a weary sigh. Rumanwan, a King should aim to be Emperor, not the other way round!

Rumanwan remained silent.

Yaugandharayan patted the General briskly on the shoulder. Don’t lose heart, my friend! There is no grain of doubt in my mind about your loyalty or valour. Last night I was perturbed; anyone in my position would have been. But morning has brought fresh counsel, even though this map bears the marks of my angst! Success and failure are merely an endless cyclic process. Like the spokes of the wheels of a chariot, what goes up must come down and what has goes down must come up again. No state is permanent, the wheel keeps moving. Without movement there can be no progress. Dawn is sure to be followed by dusk. A full-moon night is eventually followed by a new-moon night. Life is possible because of these two extremes. Just as we cannot go against the laws of nature, we cannot defy destiny either. We can only do what we can. But that we must do!

The baffled look on Rumanwan’s stern face drew a smile from Yaugandharayan. In success, have humility; in failure, effort and fortitude! If we can but achieve this we will remain balanced in both situations.

That’s true. Rumanwan broke his long silence, his taut face finally relaxing.

The Amatya gazed at his old friend and said, "If the mind is calm, thoughts move in the right direction. My mind has calmed now. You too, should refrain from thinking too much about past events. Relax and control your mind. Now is the time to redouble our efforts. I must seek an audience with King Udayan."

*****

3

ROYAL RIVAL

UJJAYINI, AVANTI NAGARI

Council of Ministers, tell me who is the greatest King in Bharatvarsh? Pradyot, King of Avanti, asked imperiously.

The previous night he had received the news of King Udayan’s complete rout against King Aaruni, from a secret agent. The information had elated him like nothing else. After a dinner to celebrate, he had gone to watch his court dancers perform, followed by a veena recital by Vishalak. Pradyot had finally retired to bed greatly content. But a question repeated itself his mind: Who is the greatest King in Bharatvarsh? He was impatient to ask Buddhadatta, his most trusted Minister, but it would have to wait till the morning.

But the next day the King had been so preoccupied with the administrative duties of the kingdom that he had simply not had the opportunity to put the question to Buddhadatta. As per the royal routine, the King first took stock of the security matters before examining the income and expenditure accounts of the previous day. In the second hour, he met citizens and the common folk, to understand and resolve any issues they presented to him. This was followed by an oil massage, a bath and the mid-day meal. In the afternoon, he spent time going over revenue matters relating to tax collections in the different regions of his kingdom. He also received visiting dignitaries.

But as the shades of evening fell and the first flares were lit, Pradyot sent for Buddhadatta. Hurrying in, the Minsiter saw the King reclining back on a carved wooden swing, chopping betel nut with his jewel-encrusted cutter. Pradyot gestured for Buddhadatta to sit down before offering him some betel nut before tossing pieces into his own mouth.

You are my most trusted Minister, Pradyot remarked. I check with you about any news I receive, however secret. But you know that.

Buddhadatta sat in silence, unable to judge what was in the King’s mind.

I have wished to talk privately with you since last evening, ever since the informer came with the news, but I’ve not had the time. Anyway, tell me...is it true?

What news, my Lord? Buddhadatta was by far too astute to show his cards so early in the game.

That King Aaruni has defeated the Vatsa King!

So I’ve heard. The Vatsa Empire has finally come to an end.

Sooo... I can believe it now.

Did you not believe it earlier, my Lord? Buddhadatta said in the calm tone that was natural to him.

I feel assured of its truth when I hear it from you. Now tell me, who is...

King Udayan did not take part in the battle. Buddhadatta spoke before his master had finished his question. If he had, perhaps things would have been...

Buddhadatta! Pradyot cut him short. What do you imagine he could have done? It would merely have accelerated his army’s defeat, if anything!

Buddhadatta did not react, aware