Chapter
13
The Coronation of
Parîkchit
Kuntî
Devî took the road that Shyamasundar
had taken. What was left was the lifeless body.
Arjuna wept aloud, "Brother, what shall I say, we
have lost our mother". Dharmaraja who was standing
by was shaken hard by the shock; he stepped towards the
body and finding the face blanched, stood
petrified.
The maids outside the
door heard the words of Arjuna and they peeped
into the room. Kuntî Devî's body was
lying on the floor; Arjuna had the head on his lap; he
was intently looking at the face with tearful eyes. The
maids of the palace transmitted the news from one to
another, they entered and realised that the Dowager Queen
had left them, without possibility of return. They wept
aloud at the heart-breaking calamity.
Meanwhile, news reached
the Queens in the inner apartments. Within seconds, the
sad tidings spread all over Hastinâpura. The
Queens were overcome with grief; they tottered in,
beating their breasts in anguish. In an endless stream of
sorrow, the denizens of the palace flowed into the
apartment. Bhîma, Nakula, Sahadeva
and the Ministers were overpowered with grief.
The air was filled with
indescribable agony. Nobody could believe that
Kuntî Devî, who, a few minutes ago,
was so eagerly awaiting her son Arjuna, to hear the news
from Dvârakâ, could have passed away
so soon. Those who came and saw stood mute and
motionless. The wailing of the maids, the groans of the
Queens, and the grief of the sons melted the rockiest
heart.
Dharmaraja
consoled every one and instilled some courage. He told
them not to give way to grief. He did not shed tears; he
was moving about bravely, directing every one and
infusing strength of mind. This made every one wonder at
his self-control. The Ministers approached him and said,
"O King, your unruffled nature fills us with admiration.
You revered your mother and treated her as the very
breath of your life. How is it that your heart has taken
her death so callously?" Dharmaraja smiled at
their question and their anxiety. "Ministers, I am filled
with envy when I think of her death. She is indeed most
fortunate. The world dropped from her life as soon as she
heard the news of Krishna moving on to his
Heavenly Home. She left immediately to that Home, for,
she could not bear the pang of separation from
Him.
We are most
unfortunate. We were so near Him; we derived so much of
ânanda from Him; we heard of His departure;
but, yet, we are alive! Had we really the devotion that
we claimed, we should have dropped the body like her when
we heard of that loss. Fie on us! We are but burdens on
the earth. All our years are a waste".
When the citizens and
others came to know, that Kuntî Devî
had died as soon as she heard the news of
Krishna's departure from the world, they wept even
louder for, the grief at losing Krishna was far
greater than the grief at the loss of the Dowager Queen.
Many behaved as if they had grown suddenly insane; many
beat their heads on the walls of their houses; they felt
miserable and forlorn.
It was as if petrol was
poured on a fire. In the flock of unbearable anguish,
born out of the double loss, Dharmaraja was the
only calm soul. He consoled the queens; he spoke softly
and assuringly to each; he told them that there was no
meaning in lamenting the loss of the mother or the
departure of the Lord. Each of them had their course
according to a predetermined plan. "It only remains for
us now to fulfil our destiny through appropriate steps,"
he said.
Dharmaraja
called Arjuna near him and said, "Arjuna! Dear
brother! Let us not delay any further. The funeral rites
of mother must begin immediately; we must have
Parîkchit crowned Emperor; we must leave
Hastinâpura this night itself; every moment
appears an age to me". Dharmaraja was filled with extreme
detachment. But, Arjuna was filled with even more
renunciation. He lifted the mother's head from his lap
and placed it on the floor. He ordered Nakula and
Sahadeva to make preparation for the Coronation of
Parîkchit. He gave instructions to others,
Ministers, officers etc. on the arrangements that had to
be made, in view of the decision of the King and the
Princes. He was very busy, indeed. Bhîma busied
himself with the arrangements for the funeral of the
mother.
The Ministers,
citizens, priests, gurus, were full of wonder, admiration
and sadness at the strange developments and incidents in
the palace. They were sunk in grief and despair, but,
they had to keep it all to themselves. They were also
affected by a strong wave of detachment. Struck with
wonder, they exclaimed, "Ah, His paternal uncle and aunt
left the palace all of a sudden; the news of
Krishna's departure fell like a thunderbolt on the
head already distracted by this calamity; then quite
soon, the mother passed away; ere the corpse is removed
from where she fell, Dharmaraja is preparing for the
coronation! And, the Emperor is planning to give up
everything - power, riches, status, authority - and to
move into the forest with all his brothers! Only these
Pândavas can have such steady courage and
renunciation. No one else is capable of this
boldness."
Within minutes, the
funeral rites were gone through; the brahmins were
called in; Dharmaraja decided to have the Coronation
Ceremony in quite a simple style. The subordinate rulers
and tributary kings were not to be invited; nor could
invitation be given to citizens and kinsmen at
Indraprastha.
Of course, a Coronation
in the Bharatha Dynasty, seating a ruler on the
sacred Lion-throne of that line, was usually a grand
affair. The date will be fixed months ahead, the
auspicious moment chosen with meticulous care; and,
elaborate preparations on a magnificent scale will
follow. But, now, in a matter of minutes, everything was
got ready with whatever material was available and
whoever was near at hand. Parîkchit was
given a ceremonial bath, the crown jewels were put on
him, and he was brought to the throne by the
brahmins and the Ministers. He was placed on the
throne and, while Dharmaraja was placing the
diamond studded diadem on his head with his own hands,
every one in the Hall wept in distress. The Imperial
Authority that had to be assumed to the joyous
acclamation of the people was imposed on the boy to the
accompaniment of groans and sobs.
Parîkchit,
the newly crowned Emperor was weeping; why, even
Dharmaraja, the man who crowned him, could not
stop his tears, in spite of his best efforts. The hearts
of all the spectators were torn by agonising sorrow. Who
can stem the force of destiny? Fate executes every act,
at the time and place, and in the manner it has to be so
executed. Man is nothing before it, he is
helpless.
Parîkchit
was a well-bred virtuous boy; he watched the sadness that
pervaded every face; he noted the incidents and
happenings in the Palace; he had sat on the throne, since
he felt he should not transgress the command of his
elders; but, suddenly, he fell at Dharmaraja's feet and
pleaded pathetically, "My Lord! Whatever your wish, I
shall honor and obey, but, please do not desert me and
leave me alone". He did not give up his hold on the feet;
he continued weeping and praying. All who saw the tragic
scene wept; even the hardest could not but weep. It was
terrible, fraught with dire distress.
The boy fell at the
feet of his grandfather Arjuna and cried
piteously. "Grandpa! How can you move out of here with
peace in your hearts, after placing this heavy burden of
empire on my head? I am a child who knows nothing; I am
very foolish; I am ignorant; I have no qualifications; I
am incompetent. It is not just, it is not proper for you
to lay on my head this empire which has been in the care
of a long line of heroes, statesmen, warriors and wise
men and remove yourselves to the forest. Let some one
else bear this responsibility; take me also with you to
the forest", he pleaded.
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