” In the end, it is our choices that define us. And I, Dharmaraj Yudhisthira made some grave choices. Though devoted to the path of righteousness, I have performed sins that ignited the greatest war. All my life, I was determined to follow truth and Dharma, establish it as the rule, as the guiding principle, but one choice of mine make me regret. One moment when I wasn’t Dharmaraja Yudhisthira. I was just a mortal gambling away all that belonged to him. For one moment, I forgot what Dharma was, I forgot what relations meant and I forgot what it takes to lose everything that matters to you. When Draupadi was ripped off her clothing in the Sabha of Hastinapur, I forgot to pull out my sword and behead Duhsasana. When Duryodhan challenged me to put Draupadi and my brothers on the stake, I forgot to firmly refuse. When I received the invitation for a game of dice, I forgot to think on the grounds of Dharma. All I thought was to accept a challenge as a Kshatriya. Sometimes these choices, that seem to be insignificant, turn into the choices that define our lives. Choices that change history.” Yudhisthira was breathing heavily, as he was ascending onto the Himalayas. His brothers and Draupadi had already died on the path. And now it was him, alone, climbing the mountain accompanied by a dog. His body was freezing and it seemed to be challenging to breathe. He realized his soul could leave behind his mortal body anytime now, but he was firm to reach the peak. As he climbed, he narrated his story to the dog, his only companion when all his family had left him behind on the land of humans as they ascended to the afterlife. In the last moments, he was reflecting on the choices he made, on the life he lived, and on the deeper meaning of it all.
“Krishna has died, paving the path for Kaliyuga. Mata Gandhari’s curse wiped out the Yadav vansh, sparing them from witnessing the evils of the last yuga. The dark age. And as Parikshit is crowned the king of Hastinapur, it was time for us to leave. We lived a life of sufferings, challenged at each step. We were aware that the path of Dharma would be difficult. We counted our life on the short moments of happiness and togetherness, away from the evils of the war. As the days passed, we learned to enjoy the bond that held us together. The bond of brotherhood. When as a child, Duryodhan tried killing Bheem, we learned to accept the ultimate truth. When spared from burning to death at the Lac house, we learned to be grateful to live. When all five of us were married to Draupadi, we learned to strengthen our bond of brotherhood. When we were denied our sole right to rule Hastinapur, we learned to be determined to build a magnificent city on a dry and barren land and establish Dharma. As years passed, we learned to learn from our mistakes as we spent 14 years in exile. After our years of exile, Duryodhan refused to stay aligned with the terms agreed upon. He refused to return our kingdom back, and after all the diplomatic efforts failed, war was inevitable. As Krishna said, it wasn’t a war about claiming what belonged to us, it was a war of Dharma. A war to wipe out the Adharmic, and establish the Dharma.
Though each one of us suffered all our life, the 18 days of the war were the most challenging. Every warrior reproached their actions as they fought the battle. It takes immense courage to kill your own people. To pierce arrows and swords through your loved ones. To witness the death of your children and brothers. It takes immense courage to fight for Dharma, to accept your sins and to live with regret and remorse all your life.
Those 18 days were the days of killing. Knowing oneself or forgetting oneself. It were the days of grief, pain and sorrow in victory. It were the days when the greatest warriors suffered and lost hope. When the end seemed devastating. When the world seemed to be engulfed by darkness, rivers turned red and the sand enveloped by bodies of soldiers and warriors pierced with arrows and swords, lifeless. The days when Karna, the undefeatable warrior died, killed by his own brother, unable to defend himself. Karna was our elder brother, and Mata Kunti burried the truth. The days when Legends died. Bhishma, on a deathbed of arrows, delivering his immortal knowledge to me. When Abhimanyu died, leaving behind a remarkable story of courage. When all our children were murdered on a quiet night. When Ashwathamma was bestowed with the curse of Immortality and Shakuni, Duryodhan and all the sons of Dhritarashtra died. When Dronacharya died. Though Drishtadyunma fired his arrows at him, it was me who killed him.
It was the 15th day of the war, Guru Drona was massively killing our army, causing havoc and destruction. It was a challenge to defeat him, the Guru who trained the greatest warriors. And when the sword fails, the mind must be a weapon. Bheem killed an elephant of the name Ashwathamma and falsely alarmed Guru Drona that his son died. In the midst of the sudden trauma and pain, he did not want to believe it. He approached me to confirm if the news was true, knowing that I won’t lie and would uphold my values of truth and righteousness. Another choice, either tell him the truth and let him continue to destroy my army or lie and let Dharma be established by killing the warrior who fought for the Adharma. The fight was of Dharma against Dharma. Either I let myself be aligned with Dharma or let the world be aligned with Dharma by defeating the Kauravas. I confirmed that Ashwathamma had died, omitting the other truth that not his son but an elephant. And as he was lost in grief and pain, Dhristadyumna killed him, fulfilling his prophecy. Another sin I committed. Just one other.
And as the war ended the Dharma was established. Established at the stake of deaths of millions. As millions suffered and died, the world is ushered into another Yuga. As Krishna left his mortal body, the last dark age is vested. ”
Yudhisthira took a deep breathe as he reached the peak of the Himalayas.